Double Dog Dare You

by Lacey Black

  I decide to start at the beginning. “She sent me a text that wasn’t meant for me.”

  “No shit?” he asks, a grin that mirrors mine spreading across his face.

  “She thought she was sending a message to her best friend, but it turns out she had the number wrong.”

  Rueben grins. “The ol’ wrong number trick, huh?”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a trick, since neither of us knew each other beforehand. We’ve texted all week. It’s been fun and easy to talk to her. Anyway, while I was out for a run, I met this woman standing out on her front porch. She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Rueb. Like straight out of a magazine, yet not in that overdone way. Know what I mean?”

  He smiles across the table. “I know exactly what you mean,” he says, no doubt talking about his fiancée.

  “Turns out, they’re the same woman. The one who sent me a text accidentally is the same lady I saw on her front porch.”

  He blows out a low whistle. “No shit?”

  “I kid you not. I met her officially at Elevate today,” I answer as Wendy delivers two plates of burgers and fries, each with an extra side of their homemade barbecue sauce. We didn’t request it, but she knows us well enough to know our order.

  “Thanks, Wendy,” I reply, as she lifts up my bottle to find it nearly empty.

  “Another, Rueben?” she asks my brother as she reaches for his beer.

  “Yes, please.”

  She heads off to grab us another round, while we make up our burgers. I slather on barbecue sauce and add the two deep fried onion rings to my sandwich before pressing my bun down, loving the tangy sauce that oozes out the sides. I grab two fries—because they must be consumed in pairs—and slide them across the burger masterpiece, coating them in barbecue.

  “So what now?” he asks between bites of his own western burger.

  I shrug. “Not sure. I mean, I wouldn’t mind spending a little time with her,” I start, only to be interrupted by Rueben.

  “You mean in bed?”

  Opening my mouth, the words I thought would fly out aren’t what I actually say. “Maybe on a date.” I can feel his shocked eyes bore into me from across the table, so I keep my focus on my fries and barbecue sauce. When I glance back up, I find him grinning like the jackass he is. “What?”

  “You like this girl.”

  I finish chewing my bite before I add, “Yeah, I do.”

  “Good. Mom will be happy to see you in a relation—”

  “Stop right there. I didn’t say anything about a relationship, Rueb. I like talking to her. I like making her smile.”

  “The fact that you didn’t say you like fucking her first speaks volumes, Royce.”

  I stare over at my brother, really considering his words. I know he’s right, but I’m not letting him know it. Instead, I go with, “I didn’t say I didn’t want that,” throwing in a cocky smirk. Because, yeah, I do want that too…with Quinn. “Tell me about Cricket’s event.”

  Rueben starts right in on telling me about the Moonlight Mountain View event happening in the heart of Gatlinburg. Cricket’s job has something to do with publicity and tourism, and even though I may not understand it completely, she’s fucking killing it. Elevate partnered with the Chamber of Commerce with online promotion, and our business went up thirty-five percent over the last year. Our already full schedules were becoming packed, with reservations pushed out months in advance.

  “She’s helping man a kid’s activity booth near Hollywood Star Cars Museum. I guess they’re letting the kids go in for free tonight,” he says, finishing off his sandwich.

  “You ever been there?” I ask as I polish off my fries.

  “Twice. They have the Batmobile there, man.”

  I roll my eyes at my brother. When we were kids, he was the biggest Batman freak ever. He spent all of his time watching the old Adam West episodes and owned every Batman remake on DVD. “Of course they do,” I mumble.

  Twenty minutes later, Wendy stops by to take away our plates of food and bring us a third beer. The place is starting to fill up now, a band sets up on the open side of the large room. Within the hour, Pork’s will be filled to capacity with locals ready to have a good time.

  Rueben is on his phone, no doubt texting Cricket, if the grin on his face is any indication, so I lean back in my chair and take in my surroundings. All of the tables are full, including the booths in back. It’s darker back there, with low lighting hanging over each table, but even through the dimmer light, I’d recognize that blonde hair anywhere.

  Quinn is here.

  Sitting at a round booth in back is the very woman I’ve been fantasizing about since she left Elevate this afternoon. Fuck, probably since I saw her standing under her porch light. She’s sitting on the inside with another woman with long, dark hair. Each has a guy on the outsides of the booth. The one beside Quinn has his arm extended over the back of the booth, but I can already tell by her rigid posture, she’s avoiding his touch.

  Fuck that.

  Fuck him.

  “You okay?”

  I turn quickly to my brother. “What?”

  “You just growled like a dog. You all right?” he asks loudly, concerned eyes locked on mine behind his black-framed glasses.

  My eyes return to the woman across the room as if she were a piece of metal and my eyes the magnet. I’m drawn to her, desire swirling in my gut and landing squarely in my cock. “See that woman over there?” I ask my brother.

  “The dark-haired one?”

  “No, the blonde beside her.” When he mumbles his acknowledgement, I say, “That’s Quinn.”

  “The one on the date over there?”

  “It’s not a date,” I tell him, but it sounds weak, even to my own ears.

  “Then what is it?”

  “She said her friend set it up with two guys from a coffee shop,” I tell him without removing my eyes from Quinn. She smiles politely, but it’s not the natural, easy grin I’ve seen a handful of times this week.

  I take another drink of my beer, suddenly wishing it was something stronger. The urge to walk over there, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her from the building has never been as strong as it is right now. I toss back and finish off the rest of my brew, hating the weird bout of jealousy rolling through my body.

  Suddenly, I see her say something to the guy beside her. He slips out of the booth, her right behind him. When she stands, he’s close—too fucking close—and Quinn practically has her back pressed against the corner of the seat. She slips away, heading toward the back hallway where the restrooms are located.

  “Hey, I’m gonna hit the head,” I tell my brother without looking his way. His nose is practically pressed against his phone screen anyway and probably wouldn’t even have noticed if I hadn’t say a word.

  Quinn slips into the restroom, so I hang back in the dark hallway and wait. A few females head my way, bright smiles on their painted lips the moment they see me. The brunette is wearing a short skirt with a tight tank top, her heels too high to be comfortable. “Hey,” one sings with a seductive little wave as she walks into the restroom, her giggling friend hot on her heels. There’s an enthusiasm in that wave, an invitation to join her.

  A week ago, I may have taken her up on that unspoken offer, but not today.

  When the door closes behind them, I sigh in relief. The last thing I need is Quinn to walk out and find those two draped all over me like a cheap cloak. I take a deep breath and position myself directly across the wall from the restroom door. A small group of ladies exits, but Quinn isn’t one of them.

  After what feels like forever, the door finally opens and out she comes. She’s glancing down at her phone and not really paying attention to where she’s going. She turns to head back to the dining area, so I quickly ask, “Sending anyone in particular a text?”

  Her wide blue eyes slam into mine and a shiver slips down my spine. I get my first good look at Quinn Michaels since I notic
ed her at Pork’s. She’s wearing tight, dark jeans that hug her curves like a second skin. Her top is a deep purple and I can see the dark tank she wears underneath it. Her long, blonde hair is down with big, soft curls that make my fingers tingle to run through it. And the sexiest fucking pair of simple black heels adorn her tiny feet. She looks unbelievably gorgeous, and I know I’m not the only one to have noticed.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, a hint of a smile on those full, plump lips.

  The duo from earlier exits the bathroom and stops and stares at Quinn. I reach over and gently grab her arm, guiding her away from the doorway. I can feel eyes on me, but Quinn’s are the only set I care about. “Having dinner with my brother.”

  My eyes feast on her once more, taking in the hourglass shape of her abdomen and the delicate swell of her breasts. Blood is pumping to one concentrated area, my cock swollen and hard in my jeans. Glancing back up, I find her eyes sweeping across my chest. “How’s dinner with your friends?” I hate referring to the douche canoes in the booth as friends, but it’s better than calling them outright self-indulged assholes.

  Blue eyes swirl with desire. “Good. Sabrina…is here. There. Out there,” she says nervously, pointing toward the dining area.

  The moment I step forward, she takes one back, but not in a fearful way. She’s using the wall to help hold her upright. Placing my hand on the wall beside her head, I toy with a curl of hair that hangs over her shoulder, loving the softness at the tips of my fingers. When my eyes lock on hers, I hear the hitch in her breath and watch as her tongue slips out and wets her lower lip.

  “Are you having fun?” I ask, leaning in just ever so slightly and inhaling her subtle fruity perfume.

  “Yes.” The word comes out a squeak as she gazes up at me with lust-filled eyes.

  I let the outside of my finger graze against the side of her neck. “Even with that guy sitting beside you? The one who can’t take his eyes off you?”

  She swallows hard. “Not really. He’s not my type.”

  “That’s good, Bestie,” I reply, giving her a cocky little grin.

  “Why?” she asks with the slightest lift of her chin, blue eyes following my every movement.

  I lean in, filling my senses with her intoxicating floral shampoo, as I whisper, “Because you’re going home with me.”

  Chapter Ten

  Quinn

  Because you’re going home with me.

  As I make my way back to my table, Royce’s words keep repeating over and over again, an intoxicating melody of seduction and desire. I’m not even sure how I’m able to walk, to be honest. My legs are like cooked spaghetti noodles as I carefully make my way toward Sabrina.

  “You okay?” she asks the moment I slip back into the booth.

  Lance slides back in after me, but I pay him no attention. “What? Why do you ask?”

  “You’re all flushed,” she observes as I reach for my glass of water, a slight tremble to my hand.

  “I’m great,” I insist, the words coming out a bit higher pitched than normal.

  I can feel eyes on me, but not hers. Royce is near, his gaze like a caress. Sabrina looks up, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “Well, well, well,” she whispers as she watches Royce walk past our table. “Who is that yummy drink of water?” she whisper-yells so only I can hear.

  I suck down more water, suddenly wishing it were something a little harder, and begging for it to help cool my overheated body. I’ve been burning up since my eyes met his in that darkened hallway. Not to mention the instant wetness between my legs when he backed me up against the wall. My body is humming, alive, with a reckless desire I’ve not quite experienced before.

  “That’s Royce,” I whisper, grateful Lance and Decker are having their own conversation and not paying us any attention.

  “Royce? The Royce?” she asks, casually turning to glance behind her to where he’s now sitting with his brother.

  “Yep, that’s him,” I mumble, sucking air when I reach the bottom of my water glass. I set it back down and fumble with the straw, just to give my fingers something to do.

  My eyes seek him out again and meet his across the room. His brother looks a lot like him, just a slightly skinnier version with dark glasses. They have similar features and the same hair color. From where I sit, even if I didn’t know them, I can tell they’re related. His brother leans in and asks him a question, yet Royce never takes his eyes off me, even when he leans toward him and answers.

  “Holy shit, Q, I think you could get pregnant from the way he’s looking at you. Are you up on your birth control?”

  I roll my eyes and glance to my friend. “Stop it.”

  “I’m serious. He’s…smokin’ hot. You two would have beautiful babies,” she adds before sucking down a long swig of her fruity drink. “You should have another,” she tells me.

  “Can I get you another drink?” Lance asks, drawing my attention back to him.

  He’s not a bad looking guy, honestly. He’s not nearly as tall as Royce, nor as muscular. He’s wearing a pressed short-sleeved button-down shirt with a blue and gray plaid print, which is tucked into his stylish jeans. He looks nice.

  But Royce looks hot.

  He plays the bad boy.

  His black T-shirt is fitted and tight, yet not in that cocky, self-absorbed way. It stretches across his broad chest and arms perfectly, hitting right above a tight ass in a pair of worn, dark blue jeans. My mouth waters from all the way over here.

  Realizing Lance asked me a question, I turn toward him and reply, “Oh, no thank you. I’m driving Sabrina home tonight,” I tell him, ignoring her chuckle beside me.

  “If you’re sure,” he replies, glancing toward the hallway I had just exited. “I’m going to use the restroom.” Lance slides out of the booth and I swear I can breathe again.

  There’s no spark. From the moment they sat down at our booth this evening and Lance shook my hand, there was nothing there. No sizzle of attraction, no desire for something more. Dinner was nice, but the conversation was a little forced. He seemed attentive, asking questions about me, my family, and my job, but kept turning everything back on him and the coffee house. He’s tried to touch my shoulder casually, placing his arm across the backrest of the booth, but his touch just isn’t right. It’s not the one I crave.

  My eyes find those hazel ones again across the room, and desire touches down in my stomach like a tornado. He places the beer bottle to his lips, and I swear I can feel the caress all the way over here. I’ve never before found watching a man drink to be sexy, but here I am, ready to climb across the table, throw my panties on the floor, and ask him to have his wicked way with me.

  Patrons be damned.

  I have to look down, break the connection of our eyes before I spontaneously combust from the heat burning through my veins.

  “Oh my God, he’s coming over here,” Sabrina whispers, causing my eyes to fly back to Royce once more, confirming he’s moving this way. He moves with the gait of a jungle cat, watching, calculating, and focused with every move he makes, and right now, he’s fixated on me.

  “Evening,” he says, as he takes the seat vacated by Lance just a few moments ago.

  I can feel Decker’s curious eyes bounce between Royce and me, but I can’t bring myself to look his way. I’m trapped in Royce’s gaze, intoxicated by the scent of his cologne. Someone whimpers, and with a sharp elbow to my side from Sabrina, it hits me the noise came from me. The grin Royce gives me is potent. You can tell he’s used to flashing it when the proper time warrants it.

  Like now.

  “Dance with me.” His voice is low and gravelly, just barely heard over the country song coming from the band in the big room.

  My eyes widen, and I glance around. For what, I don’t know, but when they return to the man at my right, I feel every ounce of restraint I possess fly right out the window. My body sways toward him, completely on its own, as if he’s the piece I didn’t even realize I w
as missing.

  “She’d love to,” Sabrina says beside me, shoving her pointy-ass elbow into my side once more.

  “Ouch! Stop it,” I hiss, glaring at my friend. Her knowing, wide grin lets me know she’s not sorry at all for jabbing me.

  The song suddenly changes to a slow, seductive beat. Shock waves race through my body as his hand slides lightly down my arm, leaving a strip of goosebumps in its wake. “What do you say, Bestie. Care to let me lead you around the dance floor?”

  “I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” I tell him, catching Lance’s approach out of the corner of my eye.

  He leans in just a hint and inhales. “I think it’s the second best idea I’ve had all night.”

  “Second best?” Sabrina asks, totally absorbed in our conversation.

  His lips curl upward in a way that makes me think of sex. Hot, sweaty, dirty sex. I try to cross my legs, but the ache burns fierce with no alleviation in sight. With his eyes locked on mine, he answers, “I’m just really looking forward to going home tonight.”

  It’s so hot in here, I swear ice in my veins wouldn’t even extinguish this burn.

  “Uhh, can I help you?” Lance asks, standing right beside Royce.

  Royce doesn’t even give him a glance. “Well, Bestie?” He leans in and whispers, “Double dog dare you.”

  My hand is placed in his without any direction from my brain, encouraging him to slip out of the booth, me in tow. I glance up at Lance, who’s clearly confused about what’s going on. Sabrina saves me from having to answer his unspoken question by saying, “That’s her friend, Royce. She promised him a dance.”

  Guilt sweeps through me as I’m led to the dance floor. I know I’m not dating Lance or even here with him, but still, I don’t want to hurt him. I think he’d agree there’s nothing between us, but that doesn’t mean I want to rub it in his face how badly I’m attracted to another man. I’m not that kinda woman.

  Any worry I had about Lance is rushed from my head as Royce pulls my body flush with his own. He’s so much taller than I am, probably close to nine or ten inches, yet we seem to fit together like puzzle pieces. His hand pressing into my lower back, his thumb gently moving up and down, creating soothing friction with just the slightest touch. We start to sway in beat, and I realize instantly, he’s got moves. Even just through a basic slow dance, I can tell by the way his hips rock, and his body follows.