Dare To Love Series: Dreaming Up a Dare (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Catherine Gayle

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, Alex has been doing the same with me.” I took what I intended to be another sip, but I somehow finished off the drink. I probably shouldn’t have downed it so fast. I’d be regretting it in the morning, if not sooner.

  “I noticed,” Jackson said, winking. He took my empty glass and set it on a tray at a nearby table, and I wished I could have another. Because he was too close to me. And I was feeling a bit tipsy. And a lot horny, because of the way my cosmo-brain had me convinced he was looking at me. But he wasn’t looking at me like I was a sexy beast, no matter what my brain was telling me. He couldn’t be. Because that wasn’t how we were together, and there wasn’t a chance in hell he was that drunk. I might be, but not Jackson. “I notice everything about you,” he added, and my knees went weak because of the silky way the words fluttered over my skin and melted into my heart.

  “Whatever, Jackson. You notice super-model types. Long legs, pencil thin, big tits. That’s your type. Don’t try to pretend otherwise.”

  A waiter came around with glasses of wine and mimosas on his tray. I wasn’t a wine drinker, but mimosas were another matter entirely. I reached for a glass.

  “You don’t think you’ve had enough yet?” Jackson asked, raising his brows.

  “I’m not driving.”

  “Neither am I, but I know your limits.”

  “You calling me a lightweight?” Even as I traded barbs with him, I started downing my newest cocktail.

  “If the shoe fits.” He chuckled, glancing down at my feet.

  I’d put on my best pair of heels—strappy, open-toed red sandals that made my calves look dangerous, especially with the formfitting black dress that ended mid-thigh. On a woman of average height, it would be way too short, but I wasn’t anywhere close to being average height. At least the shoes made me two inches taller. Not that two inches was enough to make a difference in this room full of overgrown men.

  “How much longer do we have to stay?” I asked, trying not to sound like I was whining, even though I was absolutely whining.

  “We can go now if you want. I think I’ve had enough for tonight, and Alex can’t say I didn’t stick around and meet everyone he wanted me to meet. We just need to say good night to a few—”

  “Deal. Done. Let’s go.” I downed the rest of my mimosa and set the empty glass on the same tray. Jackson didn’t start moving immediately, so I grabbed hold of his hand and tugged him in the general direction of Alex Dare. There was only so much socializing with strangers I could take, regardless of how much booze was in my system. Whether I was nearing my limit for alcohol or not, I’d more than passed my limit for dealing with people.

  Jackson twined his fingers with mine—something he’d never done before, in all the years we’d known each other—but he came along behind me so we could get the hell out of Dodge.

  A swirl of warmth raised up through my body, but I did my best to ignore it. More than likely, it was just the alcohol catching up to me, anyway. No reason to give it any more thought than necessary.

  Three

  Jackson

  Our laughter started when Pepper apparently didn’t see the curb and fell against my side while I was busy trying to open the cab door for her.

  “Told you,” I said, trying not to laugh so hard that I snorted. I put my arm around her to give her some more stability. “You’ve had too much to drink. You’re a lightweight.” In more ways than one, but that was just one more thing I adored about her.

  “That’s not me being drunk,” she countered, giggling until she almost snorted. It wouldn’t take long before her laughter was out of control. “That’s just me being me.”

  “An enormous klutz, you mean?” I held open the door and eased her inside, waiting for her to scoot across the bench seat to make room for me.

  “The enormous part is debatable.”

  “It’s an outright lie. But not the klutz part.”

  She shook her head. “Never that part. Don’t ask me how I didn’t break my back sooner than I did.”

  She had a point. Out on the gymnastics floor, she’d been as graceful as anyone I’d ever seen, especially when she’d gotten onto the uneven bars to work her magic. Watching her fly through the air had always been a surreal experience. She’d been exceptionally good at every aspect of the gymnastics world, but what she could do on the balance beam or in the floor exercises couldn’t hold a candle to the way she could soar from the low bar to the high bar, performing complicated twists and turns like they were as simple and natural for her as breathing.

  But then there was the other side of Pepper. The side of her that bumped into every corner of every table known to man, garnering black-and-blue bruises on her hips and thighs. The side of her that broke a toe by getting out of bed. The part of her that could walk into a grocery store—or a school, house, or hospital—and come away with some new, random injury. Back in high school, when we’d spent so much time together, some of the guys thought I was beating her up because she was always coming around with some new and horrible injury. She’d had to put them in a headlock, too, to convince them it hadn’t been me. I couldn’t ever do anything to harm her, though. Doing something like that would hurt me worse than her, anyway.

  That said, I had never understood how she could be both a graceful gymnast and a walking disaster at the same time, but she’d proven it over and over again.

  “Please tell me we don’t need to make a stop at the hospital to get you stitched up or have a bone set,” I said once the driver had pulled out into the street and I’d stopped laughing long enough to catch my breath.

  Pepper scrunched up her nose and examined her arms and legs. “I think I’m still all in one piece. No need for a cast.”

  “For now.”

  “For now,” she agreed. “No telling what’ll happen once we get back to your place.”

  “I do have a pair of crutches in the closet, but I’m not sure if we can adjust them enough for you to use. If you hurt yourself, we might have to make a trip to the pharmacy.”

  “I’ll do my best to stay boo-boo free.” She gave me one of her trademarked teasing looks. “But you should probably hide all the knives in the kitchen.”

  “It’s not like I’m letting you cook tonight, anyway.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of cooking even if I’ve had a few drinks.”

  “And you’re also perfectly capable of burning down my house even if you’re thoroughly and completely sober.”

  She gave me a pouty look, but she ruined it by bursting out into laughter again. Damn, she was hot when she laughed like that.

  Pepper wasn’t like some women who tried to minimize themselves when they laughed or spoke or ate, or anything at all. She just did everything full tilt. It didn’t matter that she was usually the smallest person in any room, and she didn’t seem to care if it brought attention to her, even though attention was the last thing she wanted. She couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t be anything other than exactly who and what she was. Bubbly. Straightforward. Tenacious. Everything I had ever wanted.

  The cab ride home went by in a flash, mainly because the two of us spent the entire time poking and prodding at each other, not to mention cutting up so much that my abs were sore from laughing so hard and from her poking me in the ribs a few times with her daggers otherwise known as elbows.

  When the driver parked in front of my house, I peeled off a wad of bills from my wallet, handed them over to him, and helped Pepper out of the car, carefully guiding her so as to avoid the curbs and any uneven places in the sidewalk. Having her warmth right up against my side was too good for me to resist, and she’d given me the perfect excuse for wanting to help her along, whether she needed help or not. Her little stumble earlier was more than enough to warrant me anchoring her to my body and being able to breathe in the sweet scent she always wore. That was another thing that hadn’t changed since we were kids. One of these days, I needed to ask her what scent it was so I could buy her
a case of it.

  Once I had the front door unlocked, Pepper headed inside and went straight for the fridge.

  “You have any liquor and juice or something else I can mix it with?”

  I tossed my keys on the counter. “Pretty sure I’ve only got beer in there if you’re wanting another drink.”

  She scrunched up her nose at me. “I don’t like beer.”

  “I don’t like your fruity cocktails.” Although, I might not mind them so much if I could taste them on her.

  Shit, I was in trouble. I shouldn’t have let myself drink as much as I had, because now my brain was taking me off on all sorts of tangents that I needed to steer clear of.

  “You want a beer?” she asked, her head still buried in the fridge.

  “Yeah, why not?”

  I knew why not, though. Lots of reasons, actually. I’d already had more than I should. I didn’t need to do anything else that would cloud my mind when it came to how things should be between me and Pepper. I had to go to practice in the morning, and we had a game tomorrow night, so the last thing I needed to do was overindulge. But none of that seemed to matter.

  I took a seat on the couch, kicking off my shoes and peeling the tie free from my neck. When Pepper sat next to me, she had two beers and a bowl of pretzels, peanuts, and other salty, crunchy things in her hands.

  “I thought you didn’t like beer,” I said, raising a brow and taking the one she offered me.

  “I don’t. But like you said, I’m already tipsy. Maybe I’m tipsy enough that I won’t taste it so much.”

  This time, I was the one who snorted. “Good luck with that.” But I reached for the bottle opener on my keychain and opened both of our bottles while she set her bowl of snacks on the coffee table and toed off her shoes, tucking her feet up beside her until they sunk into the cushions.

  She took a sip and made a face before going back for more.

  “Dare you to chug it,” I said before I could think better of it.

  Pepper gave me a look that said she wouldn’t dream of doing anything but accept my challenge. The next thing I knew, she tossed her head back and swallowed every drop of her beer. “Done,” she said when she’d finished, giving me a shit-eating grin. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and let out a belch that would have had her mother spouting off all sorts of reprimands about manners and ladylike behavior. “Now it’s my turn.”

  “Your turn?” I shook my head, not following. “For what?”

  “Truth or dare?”

  “Oh, hell.” We’d played Truth or Dare more times than I could count back in the day. It was always trouble. For both of us. Being a few years older and wiser didn’t seem like it would be anywhere near enough incentive for either of us to ease up on the other.

  “So what’ll it be? Truth or dare?” Pepper repeated, setting her empty bottle on the coffee table and angling her body so she was sideways on the couch, facing me fully.

  “Dare. But before you get any crazy ideas, I’m not drinking toilet water again.” Somehow, I’d allowed her to talk me into that back when we were sixteen, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cleaned the bowl. Just because Arya and Tyrion thought toilet water was the best water ever, that didn’t mean I had any intention of gagging over that stuff. I knew all too well what else had touched that porcelain, and I didn’t want it anywhere near my mouth.

  As if on cue, Tyrion raced out from my bedroom and jumped onto the couch between us, shoving his squashed face into Pepper’s hand so she’d scratch him behind the ears. For some reason, I doubted I’d get the same enthusiastic response if I followed his example. Too bad.

  “Fine. No toilet water,” Pepper said. “But I dare you to sniff his butt.”

  “Not a chance. I’m not a cat.”

  “You have to. That’s how the game works.”

  I backed away, like that would change anything. “I’m not a butt sniffer.”

  “Whatever. Like you never sniffed Elle’s butt while you were going down on her. Or Jaclyn’s. Or—”

  “Sniffing pussy is not the same thing as sniffing ass,” I cut in, stopping her before she built up a head of steam and listed off every girl I’d ever dated over the years. And licking pussy was a hell of a lot better than just sniffing it. But now I was thinking about licking Pepper’s pussy, and that was absolutely the wrong direction to allow my thoughts to go.

  “Tyrion’s a pussy.” Pepper picked him up and shoved his ass-end toward my face. “Do it. Sniff his butt. You can go spray air freshener as soon as you’re done, but you’ve got to do it.”

  “Or else?”

  “Or else I’ll put you in a headlock.”

  “You’d have to climb me to be able to reach.”

  “Don’t think that would stop me.”

  Sounded a hell of a lot better at the moment, but I’d never been one to back down from anything Pepper tossed my direction. Damn it. Now seemed like a good time to consider it, though.

  She rolled her eyes. “Just do it, Jackson.” She grabbed hold of Tyrion’s tail and lifted it, shoving his back end up toward my face.

  I bit down on my tongue and took a whiff. Smelled like cat, not like ass. Thank God. “There. I sniffed. Put him down before he claws the shit out of you for holding him like that.”

  “He won’t claw me. Tyrion loves me.” As if to prove her point, as soon as she released him, he crawled onto her lap and turned in a circle before taking a seat, purring up a storm. “And now he knows you’re cool with him, too. That’s what the butt sniffing is about. It’s how they make sure other cats and people are okay.”

  “I’ve had him for six years, and he’s been fine with me that whole time, regardless of the fact that I’ve never sniffed his ass before.”

  “Yeah, but only because he sniffs yours all the time.”

  “Hope it smells good for him.”

  Pepper started laughing again, so hard that she dislodged Tyrion. He nipped her finger and let out a grumbling sound as he readjusted himself on her lap, but he never stopped purring. I’d be doing the same damn thing if I had Pepper on my lap, so I couldn’t exactly blame the cat.

  I took a swig of my beer and eyed her, trying—unsuccessfully—to stop myself from being jealous of the damn cat in her lap. “All right. My turn again. Truth or dare?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Since I don’t exactly trust you to behave like a gentleman after I made you sniff cat ass, I think I’d better go with truth.”

  I winked. “Smart cookie.”

  “Always have been.”

  “I was planning to have you trim his claws. He’d leave you bloody. I usually have to pay the vet to do it, and they have to have three techs hold him down. He’s as sweet as can be until you come at him with claw trimmers.” Actually, I hadn’t been planning anything of the sort. I was thinking more along the lines of daring her to hold ice cubes against her tits for two minutes, but that would be a bad idea. Because she was stubborn enough that she’d do it. And I’d watch. And it would turn me on like nobody’s business.

  “Good thing you warned me,” Pepper said. “Now I know to stick with truth.”

  “Can’t dare you to do that now, anyway, since I’ve given you a heads-up about it.”

  She chuckled and reached for a handful of the snacks. “So shoot. What do you want to know?” She popped a couple of nuts in her mouth.

  Damn if I didn’t start salivating from watching that. “Did you really teabag Brad Isaacs after prom junior year?”

  Her eyes bulged out of her head, and she choked on her nuts, covering her mouth with her hand.

  Yeah, that was what I asked her. Apparently, I was fixated on the idea of nuts being in her mouth. Only I wanted them to be my nuts.

  “He told you that?” she replied.

  “He told everyone that.”

  “So that’s why he had a black eye the next Monday, isn’t it? You punched him. He didn’t get into a fight in the game that weekend. I should have known he
was lying about that. He wasn’t a fighter.”

  I did a lot more than just punch him, actually. First time I’d ever hit a teammate. That was when I’d earned my nickname for real.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” I pointed out, hoping she was tipsy enough that she’d forget I hadn’t admitted to beating the son of a bitch bloody.

  She shifted again, drawing her legs together, and this time Tyrion hissed at her and took off down the hall. “Yes, all right?” she said, pressing her eyes closed. And she blushed. Fuck, she was hot when she was embarrassed. “I did. And I did a damn good job of it, too.”

  I couldn’t help but lick my lips, watching the way she was squirming. At least she had her eyes closed and couldn’t see how much her mild discomfort was turning me on. “How do you know you did a good job?”

  She surprised me by opening her eyes and staring straight at me, her expression so full of sass it left me hard enough to pound nails in no time. “Because he came before I could even start sucking him off.”

  “Holy fuck, Pepper.”

  She shrugged, the hint of a grin creeping to her lips. Which, of course, I couldn’t take my eyes off of. Especially not when she slipped her tongue out to lick. “You asked.”

  I had. I still couldn’t figure out why I’d asked, but I definitely had, and now there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be able to stop thinking about the feel of her lips wrapping around me, her tongue sliding along my length. Not any time in the next decade or so.

  She tossed a couple more nuts in her mouth and reached for my bottle of beer to chase them down. When she swallowed, my gaze locked onto the slight bob of muscles in her neck, and everything in me tensed.

  “My turn,” she said. She winked and passed the bottle back into my hands. “Truth or dare?”

  I finished off the beer and said, “Truth.”

  Then I hoped I’d be able to tell her whatever she wanted to know. Taking a dare might have been better. I doubted she could come up with anything to have me do that would be as bad as revealing some of my innermost thoughts. After what she’d just divulged, I definitely owed it to her…but depending on her question, it might be better for both of us if I kept the truth locked up tight.