The Dare Collection May 2019

by JC Harroway

  Not wanting her to switch back—which always seemed to happen when she let herself think too hard—he tugged her closer and slipped his arm around her waist. “Okay, you convinced me. Strip poker is on the table.”

  She laughed. “It was never on the table, though that was an excellent try. Very nice line. You get a B minus.”

  “B minus!” He turned them around the corner down in the direction of a taco truck he knew of. “My delivery was spot-on.”

  “Mmm, yes.” She leaned into him as the wind kicked up. “But you should have saved it until after dinner, once you had me back at your place and were plying me with drinks.”

  “Sounds underhanded.”

  “Only if I wasn’t planning on getting naked with you already.” She tilted her head back to look at him, her lashes seeming impossibly long against the blue of her eyes. “If I let you ply me with drinks, it’s already a done deal.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He stomped down on his body’s reaction to her words and her nearness. It might be sexy as hell to press her against the nearest wall and go for a repeat of their first kiss, but that wasn’t the goal. It couldn’t be the goal. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

  “Travel agent.” She made a face. “Right up until I realized most travel agents don’t actually travel that much. There’s nothing quite as agonizing as planning someone else’s trip over and over again while stuck in a crappy office surrounded by four beige walls.”

  He was inclined to agree, though the travel bug had never bitten Aaron. “You were just down in the Caribbean not too long ago, right?”

  She missed a step and shot him a look. “Right. I forgot. You and Roman are friends.” If anything, her expression became more agonized. “Allie’s going to want a double date before too long—mark my words. And once she decides on something, no one in their right mind gets in her way.”

  A double date didn’t sound like the hell she seemed to consider it, but he chose to keep that opinion to himself. “She’s good for Roman. He’s been more relaxed since they started dating than I’ve ever seen him.”

  “Regular sex will do that to a man,” she muttered.

  “And to a woman.”

  She chose not to comment on that, which was just as well. They reached the taco truck and got in line behind a mother and her two kids. Because they were standing so close, Aaron could feel the tension bleeding back into Becka’s body until she stood rigid against him. He studied her, trying to figure out what the issue was. The mother? The woman was in her midtwenties, and though she looked tired, she was handling herself well and both her young children were relatively well behaved. They collected their tacos and disappeared down the street, leaving Becka staring after them.

  He bided his time, waiting until they’d ordered, collected their food and eaten it at one of the benches not too far from the truck. Only when she crumpled her paper napkin did he sit back and say, “What was it about her that bothered you so much?”

  She gave him the courtesy of not pretending she didn’t know what he meant. “I don’t know if you guessed it, but my family life was hardly idyllic growing up. Lucy was the bright spot, of course. She still is. But my parents were a hot mess from day one, and they only seemed to get worse over time. My mom never would have done something as simple as that.” She waved her hand in the direction the mother had gone. “That’s sad, right? I’d more or less made my peace with it, but the whole impending-motherhood thing has the ghosts of my past banging on my closet door again.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m a mess.”

  “No apologies necessary.” He took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “Were they...”

  “Abusive? No, nothing like that.” She stared at the people walking past, but she didn’t take her hand from his. “They were just selfish assholes who were more wrapped up in themselves and their petty dramas than they could ever be in their children. I don’t think they ever planned on staying together, but Lucy was an oops baby and the only thing to do at the time was get married. I don’t think my mom ever even wanted kids, but one thing led to another and then she had two.”

  Not too difficult to read between the lines. Benign neglect was one thing, but it sounded as if Becka had been reminded on a near constant basis that she wasn’t wanted, that perhaps her parents’ lives would be so much better if she wasn’t in them. He didn’t tell her he was sorry, didn’t offer her sympathy she might mistake for pity. “I’m glad you had Lucy.”

  “Me, too.” She finally looked at him. “She was always there. For nearly every game, for every important event. Even after she went to college, she was never too far or too busy to be there for me. I don’t deserve her.”

  “She loves you.” For most people, it was as simple as that. They loved someone, they showed up. At least Becka had that influence in her life, even if the people who should have been there for her above all others...weren’t. He hesitated, but finally asked, “Have you told her yet?”

  She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but seemed to change her mind and shook her head. “I’m getting kind of cold. Mind if we go back now?”

  The opportunity slipped through his fingers like water. He couldn’t force her to open up to him. The fact she’d told him even as much as she had was a small miracle. It was progress, which was a positive sign. Though it might not be enough, it was a start.

  Aaron could be a patient hunter when the situation called for it and the stakes were high enough.

  With Becka, they’d never been higher.

  CHAPTER NINE

  BECKA WAS ON edge the entire trip back to the penthouse. She kept waiting for Aaron’s tension to translate to more questions or pressing her for further information, but he just walked next to her with his arm around her. He respected her emotional retreat, if not a physical one.

  They walked through the front door and she had to smother her first instinct, which was to flee to her bedroom and barricade herself inside. Even if they’d danced on some of her buttons during their short walk, on the whole it’d been pleasant. More than pleasant. She liked walking down New York City’s streets with Aaron’s arm wrapped around her waist and the warmth of his body soaking through her sweater. She liked teasing him about his intentions. God, she even liked the reserved way he’d watched her when she spoke about her parents, as if he knew exactly how hard it was for her to confess even those small details and he didn’t want to do anything to spook her.

  Damn it, I like him.

  And because her emotions hamstrung her retreat, she said, “You promised to ply me with drinks.” When he opened his mouth, no doubt to quote some statistic about pregnant women and alcohol, she cut in, “I’ll take cranberry juice.”

  “Cranberry juice,” he repeated, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

  “Yep. I picked some up yesterday. It’s in the back of the fridge.”

  “I see.” He guided her to the bar stool with his hand on the small of her back. She could feel the tiny touch even through her sweater, and it was everything she could do not to arch into his hand like a cat begging for strokes. Aaron pulled out two wineglasses, retrieved the container of cranberry juice, and poured some into both. “You know I can provide whatever you need, minx. You only have to ask.”

  She pressed her lips together to keep from snapping back. As a result, she sounded only mildly irritated when she said, “It’s cranberry juice, not a college fund. It sounded good, so I got some on the way home. Simple as that.”

  “Home.”

  She opened her mouth, reconsidered and shut it.

  Aaron nodded as if she’d spoken. “I’ll try to relax. I just have more than enough money, and it’s silly for you to spend your limited funds when I can take care of it.” He held up a hand. “That came out wrong.”

  Do not yell at him. He’s trying to be helpful.


  High-handed.

  Overbearing.

  But helpful.

  She hissed out a breath. “Aaron, this isn’t going to work if you keep reminding me of our unequal roles financially. I’ve been living here a week. Believe me, I know you make a whole hell of a lot more money than I do. You don’t have to whip out your wallet for every little thing to prove it.” He narrowed his eyes, but she kept talking, determined not to ruin their evening. “And you know you don’t have to skip alcohol on my account. I’m the only one required to be depressingly sober for the next however long. No reason for both of us to suffer.”

  “It’s hardly suffering.” He nudged her glass across the counter to her.

  If she squinted just right, she might be able to pretend it was wine. Not that Becka wanted to drink. The thought of the scent of wine was enough to have her wrinkling her nose in distaste. Safe to say she wasn’t going to be one of those pregnant ladies who indulged in a glass or two from time to time. That said, it would have been nice to have the option. She took a drink of her cranberry juice instead. “So, about that strip poker.”

  Aaron choked. “I was joking.”

  “I know. But it sounds fun, and if we can’t drink together and make bad life choices, we might as well go ahead with the bad life choices anyway.”

  “You have a strange way of looking at things.”

  Didn’t she know it? “Strange, but compelling.” She pushed to her feet and padded over to the coffee table. “Come on. I know you have cards around here somewhere.” Becka sank cross-legged onto the floor next to the table and set her wineglass on a coaster. Knowing Aaron, the piece was probably painfully expensive, and she wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it.

  The baby won’t know better, though. Babies destroy shit. It’s in their genetic makeup, I’m pretty sure.

  She pushed the thought away. No use working so damn hard not to ruin tonight if she was going to let herself do it despite everything. She looked up just as Aaron came back into the room, cards in hand. He sat on the other side of the table and raised his brows. “You sure?”

  “You say that like I’m going to lose and you’re trying to give me a gracious exit.”

  He laughed, the deep sound doing funny things to her stomach...and lower. The twinkle in his blue eyes didn’t help her control any, either. “Aw, minx, you’re cute when you’re in denial.”

  “Denial?” She sank as much fake outrage into the word as she could.

  “Denial,” he repeated. “You’re going to be naked and coming on my mouth inside of five hands.”

  Her jaw dropped even as she shifted to her knees and pressed her thighs together. As if that would be enough to stop the need his words suddenly had pulsing through her body. “Pride goeth before the fall, mister.”

  “And sometimes the pride is just reality.” He was still smiling, the heat in his eyes barely banked as he dealt out two cards to each of them. “I’m assuming Texas Hold’em works for you.”

  “My favorite.” She studied her cards—a king and an ace—and laid them facedown on the table. “You know, if you’re trying to punish me for losing, saying I’m going to be coming on your mouth is hardly the way to go about it.”

  He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the coffee table. “It’s not about you losing.”

  “Actually—”

  “It’s about me winning.” He stared at her mouth and then lifted his gaze almost reluctantly. “You naked on my couch, your thighs spread wide, and feeling you come while I suck on that pretty little clit of yours? That’s winning for me, minx. No question about it.”

  She couldn’t quite draw a full breath. “Sounds like I’m still getting the better end of the bargain.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “But you still lose at cards.”

  And that was something she’d never willingly do. Becka forced herself to inhale and straighten. “In that case, when you lose—yes, I said when, not if—then you’re going to be naked and you’re going to be coming in my mouth.” The shocked look on his face was almost as good as actually winning would be. She pasted an innocent expression on her face. “Sorry, is there a problem?”

  Aaron cleared his throat. “No problem.” He nodded at her cards. “You ready?”

  “I was born ready, baby.” She laughed, her stress falling away for the first time in months. Right now, in this moment, nothing outside the two of them and this game of cards mattered. She could stress about the future and she and Aaron could go back to warily circling each other in the morning. Tonight, she was going to enjoy herself.

  And she was going to enjoy the fuck out of Aaron, too.

  * * *

  Aaron was losing. He didn’t know how Becka was pulling it off, but he was down to his boxer briefs and cursing himself for not throwing on an extra layer of clothing before their date. She wore her bra and her leggings and nothing else, but she had a look in her eye for this hand that he didn’t like.

  As if she knew she already had the win in the bag.

  He flipped over the final card and bit back a curse. His two pair was good, but he didn’t think it would be good enough. Sure as shit, Becka gave him the most wicked grin and set her cards down faceup. “Full house.”

  “Fuck,” he breathed.

  “I plan on it.” She pointed at his hips. “Off.” And then the little minx licked her lips like she could already taste his cock. She rose to her feet, her gaze never straying from him as Aaron slid his last item of clothing off. He sat back on the sofa and let her look her fill, forcing himself to hold perfectly still as she rounded the coffee table and knelt between his thighs. Becka gripped his cock and gave him a teasing stroke. “It’s not right that a gorgeous man like you is just as gorgeous here, too.” Her tongue darted out and flicked the underside of his cock. “Then again, I’m not about to complain.” She shot him a look. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to watch me.”

  No way in hell would he risk missing a moment of this. Aaron gripped the couch cushions as she slid his cock between her pretty red-painted lips and sucked him deep. She released him slowly as if savoring his taste and then smiled. “You’re right. This is what winning feels like.” Before he could digest that statement, she took him deep into her mouth and throat until her lips met his base. He kept perfectly still, letting her hold the reins, and she rewarded him for his restraint with the best fucking blow job of his life. She teased him, sucking hard and then backing off until it was everything he could do not to curse.

  Finally, Becka raised her head. “Aaron?”

  “Mm-hmm?”

  “I have a tiny, itty-bitty request.”

  Considering the way she put it, he didn’t know whether to be worried or so turned on he couldn’t think straight. “Yeah?”

  She ran a single finger the length of his cock. “I love teasing you, but what I really want right now is for you to stop holding back and fuck my mouth the way you’re obviously dying to.” Her smile had his heart skipping a beat. “I can take it. Promise.”

  He shouldn’t say yes. Their first time might have been rough and deliriously good as a result, but things were different now.

  Weren’t they?

  The answer was written across her face. Becka sat back on her heels and reached around to unsnap her bra. She slid it off and tossed it aside. “I won. Remember?” She wrapped her hand around his cock again. “This is mine until you come in my mouth. Unless you’re going back on the bet.”

  “Not on your life.” He pushed to his feet and shifted until he could stand in front of her. Seeing her on her knees, staring up at him with that expression in her eyes... He laced his fingers through her hair on either side of her face, pulling it back so he had a clear view and holding her tightly so he had control.

  Her eyes slid half-shut. “That’s it. That’s exactly it.” She licked the head of his cock, her gaze on his as s
he sucked him back into her mouth. It had been hot before. Now it was scorching. Heaven was the sight of Becka’s red lips around his cock, a challenge in her blue eyes, daring him to do exactly what she’d commanded. To fuck her mouth.

  He thrust lightly, testing her. But there was no panic on her face, just an eagerness as she took him deeper without effort. As if she loved this as much as he did.

  Keeping a tight leash on himself, Aaron started to move. He held her head in place as he picked up his pace until she could only relax and take it. The moment she gave herself over to him completely, his knees threatened to buckle. Becka’s surrender was temporary, and he wouldn’t have it any other way, but it was a gift all the same. It was more a gift because of its fleeting nature.

  Her eyes flicked open as if she heard his thoughts, and when they met his, it was too much. He orgasmed with her name on his tongue and, God help him, she drank down every drop of him.

  Aaron carefully stepped back and urged her to her feet. “Come to bed with me.”

  Becka blinked. “What?”

  He was rushing, and he didn’t give a fuck. They weren’t going to leave tonight half-finished, and he wanted her in his bed. Beneath him, over him and later...sleeping next to him.

  He wanted it all.

  He couldn’t tell her as much right now. Even with desire smoothing the stress and worry from her expression, she would panic if he pushed too hard. Damn it, think. Aaron kissed her hard, stroking her tongue with his until she swayed against him. “You won, minx. You got your reward. Now come to bed and let me take my consolation prize.”

  She smiled against his lips. “Sounds like sketchy reasoning.”

  “Skillful negotiation.” Before she could think of an argument around that, he scooped her into his arms and started for the bedroom.

  Becka relaxed against him with a soft laugh. “Okay, I’ll bite—what does your consolation prize entail?”