DARE: A Bad Boy Romance (15 page)

“Is it me?” he asked, still amused.

Biting her lip, she shook her head.

“You’ve had a few drinks?”

She shook her head. “I’m just happy is all.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Uh-huh.” On an impulse, she flung herself at him. Dare spilled backward and fell into the Jacuzzi. He went under. When he surfaced, looking all cute and bemused, she climbed in after him. Her tits were out, but her bra was still fastened; and she was still wearing her trousers. It felt bizarre to be getting into the water half-clothed. Bizarre but really freaking hot.

He dragged her into the warm water, tore off her bra. Then he delved underwater and removed her pants and panties. Spreading her legs, he licked her bud with his tongue until he ran out of air and had to resurface.

Her turn. She took a deep breath and went under, but Holly dove a little too sharply and wound up on the bottom with her legs sticking up vertically out of the water. Dare held them for her, then lifted her until her pussy was in kissing range, just above the surface. She was upside down, but he didn’t care. He licked her several times, then helped her right herself.

She didn’t remember a scene like
this
in
Splash
.

Dare took his pants and his boxers off, then he pinned her against the side of the Jacuzzi. The bubbles tickled her all over. The warmth of the water seemed to soak into her sex, turning his touch into a craving. One only he could satisfy. Holly wrapped her arms around him, smothered him with kisses, as though each one upped her passion’s investment for what she hoped would be a return to die for.

He didn’t disappoint. He never did. But it was not the rough and tumble wild-fuck their foreplay had promised. No, he took a different tack. One she realized came from the heart. A gift from his to hers.

What Dare did so well, his defining trait really, both as a lover and as a fighter, was to control the tempo. He seemed to know, instinctively, when to put his foot on the gas and when to slow down to a pace that let things unfold naturally…to see what happened, where things led. Always mindful of Holly’s wants, just as he was mindful of how his opponent was coping in the ring, he had a unique ability to read people—a supple but strong, almost fluid way about him that was irresistible to be around. It meant he could take a lover to the height of ecstasy or destroy an enemy with ruthless efficiency.

Holly relished his tender caresses, his choice to keep their lovemaking to a patient, slow burn. The deep, measured thrusts as he kept her pinned to the side made her heave in bliss. She coiled inside, again and again, only to have each anticipation sated. He laced his fingers in hers and held her arms out wide on the rim of the Jacuzzi while he slid his cock deep inside her, over and over. She didn’t know how long he could keep this up, but she hoped…forever. It wasn’t until her shoulders and back began to ache—damn that pesky hard surface she was resting against—that Holly knew it was time to change position.

Dare stood her up in front of him instead and took her from behind. She draped one arm over his shoulder. With her other hand she rubbed her sweet spot to heighten the still-patient but still-amazing rhythm he’d resumed. This time he was able to massage her tits as well. And when he started kissing her neck…the combination just overwhelmed her. He’d unlocked her three different ways at once.

It was the most intimate orgasm she’d ever had. The feel of his touch, the combination he’d found in her, burned in Holly’s memory. She wanted more. And he was an endlessly generous host.

Maybe parties weren’t so bad after all.

“Tell me something about you, something I don’t already know,” she said, snuggled against him in the warm, bubbling water. His huge arm was around her, and she felt completely safe. Tired, satisfied, and safe.

“Did you know I was married?”

“Um, I heard a rumor,” she replied, not really ready to hear about
that
. “Was it back when you were in the Marines?”

“Yeah. Her name was Stacey. We kinda rushed into it and…things didn’t work out.”

“Your fault or hers?”

“Mine.”

“What happened?”

“I wasn’t there enough.”

“Being overseas, you mean?”

“Partly,” he said. “But even when I was on leave, I couldn’t stand to be in one place for long. She just wanted to spend time with me, but I was always go, go, go. Day trips. Shooting. Fishing. Cycling. Running. She couldn’t keep up, I guess, but it just felt wrong to spend days at home doing nothing when I only had so much time left before I shipped out again. I crammed it all in, but in the process I guess I squeezed her out. It was shitty, really, when I look back. But I was not ready to settle down, and she didn’t know how to handle that.”

“So she took off?”

“Divorced me and took off for Miami. Last I heard she was starting a career in graphic art.”

“So why did you get married if you weren’t ready to settle down?”

“It was a heat of the moment thing—a leap before you look kind of deal. What can I say? Marines have more balls than brains. Most of the guys in my unit were in serious relationships. And Stacey was the prom queen. You can see where this is going. She had a similar thing, too, I reckon; something to brag about to her sisters and her friends. Having a Marine for a husband—not exactly something girls keep to themselves. I guess neither of us had thought it through. We both found that out the hard way.”

“Do you think it would have worked if she’d stuck around, if you’d both been together now?”

“I doubt it,” he answered. “We were too different. She was in love with the idea of me, couldn’t come to terms with the reality.”

“And you?”

“Me? Fuck if I know. I was a dumb little shit back then. Always competing. Always wanting my own way. If I met myself at that age, I’d want to kick my own ass all over L.A.”

“Aww. I bet you were cute. Cocky and cute as hell. I don’t blame Stacey; I’d have wanted to lasso you as well.”

“You’d have had a tough job getting the loop around my big-ass head. Trust me, I was a walking sack of ego.”

“I think all you guys are at that age. All you jocks. It’s what drives us wild.”

He kissed her on the cheek. “And what about you? I’m thinking…more of an artistic type. One of those vaguely hippy chicks who wears woolly cardigans and tight T-shirts and long, thin skirts. She reads poetry and only dabbles in sports. Not quite an emo, she can hang out with the nerds and the sports crowd, but steers clear of the IT girls. She secretly has the hots for a rich varsity guy, but would rather die than go talk to him. All the guys can see she has a cute face and a great rack, but the rich jocks know she’s working class, the nerds think she’s too hot to ever want to date one of them, which leaves the rebels lining up to cop a feel. Only she’s shy around boys. She’s made out with a few rebels, but she’s really been saving herself for Mr. Right.”

“Hmm. Go on,” she told him, ambivalent about hearing any more.

“Then along comes the toughest guy in the whole school. He fights for what he wants, and she loves that he’s singled her out when there are so many cheerleaders and sorority girls he could have made it with. It makes her feel special. And he’s hot. Angry hot. He knows what he wants, and he goes out to get it. Being around that kind of confidence makes her feel good. Like she’s on her way. He sweeps her off her feet, which leaves half the guys in the school kicking themselves for not getting in there first. She’s off the market now. Bit by bit, she forgets who she was in high school before he asked her out. She ties herself to
his
dreams and promises herself she’ll support him all the way. He’s really going places, he’s good at what he does, and there’s no telling how far he could take them.

“There’s just one snag. Somewhere along the way he forgets to hold up his end of the bargain. He forgets who
he
was in high school when he first asked her out, and he starts to take her for granted. He knows how special she is, but his career is on a relentless trajectory now, and he can’t stop to make sure she’s all right. Either she’s with him completely or she’s an impediment to his career, his lifestyle. The vaguely hippy chick doesn’t cut it anymore. He wants a fashion statement on his arm, and he wants her at his beck and call.

“Then one day, he goes too far and loses her for good. He doesn’t realize it at the time, but she’s remembered who she was before all this happened and she’s suddenly got a crush on another bad boy jock. The difference is: this new bad boy jock knows how special she is and he isn’t afraid to tell her every chance he gets. He wants to spend as much time with her as he can, to hell with what anyone else thinks. She starts to find herself again. She falls for him big time, worships him as a god of the arena, and becomes his sex slave, walking around naked for his personal enjoyment…”

Holly grabbed him by the jaw, then put him in a headlock. “You think you know me, huh?”

“Um, maybe not.”

“You might have got the gist of my story, but you’ve left out the most important part,” she said.

“Oh? Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Okay, here.” She cupped her breasts and held them teasingly in front of his face. “Ah, ah.” Holly pressed a palm to his forehead, stopping him from leaning forward. “Repeat after me:
she
finds
herself
a sex slave, who does
her
bidding whenever she calls on him.”

He licked his lips, gazing into her cleavage. “She finds herself a sex slave, who does her bidding whenever she calls on him.”

“And he worships her as a goddess of the Jacuzzi.”

“And she worships him as a god of the arena.”

“Hey, that’s not—”

Before she could finish, he pulled off a deft position switch and had her right where he wanted her, spread-eagled in front of him. “Enough talk,” he said.

“Okay, but it won’t be silent.”

“Promise, Vaguely Hippy Chick?”

“Cross my heart, Jock.”

***

Dare’s agent’s mom had surprisingly good taste in skirts. Not that Holly would have complained had that not been the case; her own pants and panties were dripping wet, so she’d have worn a granny skirt if necessary. Instead, this polka dot summer skirt, complete with a white belt, worked great. It wasn’t the vaguely hippy attire he’d imagined in his story; it was actually tasteful. Holly even promised she’d buy one for herself at some point—it went well with her blouse. Not so much with the waistcoat.

Dare, though, had scaled a freaking
castle
to protect her honor. Okay, maybe not quite so knightly. He’d climbed the drainpipe in his wet boxers, up to the second floor, where he’d raided his agent’s mom’s closet. After grabbing some fresh clothes from his own bedroom—and remembering to change (important)—he’d made his way back down through the party carrying a towel. The man he’d posted to guard the back door, Ossie, didn’t question Dare’s magical reappearance, but he did smile knowingly at Holly when she re-entered the house with wet hair and a flustered look on her face.

“Thanks, Ossie,” she said. “You’re a trouper.”

“Any time, miss. Can I get you anything?”

“An invisibility cloak, so I can get out of here without being seen.”

He chuckled then patted his pockets. “Damn, I misplaced that Hogwarts number. Would a magic ring work?”

“It might. Just for a minute, though, Ossie.”

“Okay, hold on while I pull that outta my ass.”

She laughed. “Classy.”

“Sorry, miss. Couldn’t resist.”

“The name’s Holly.”

“I know.”

“Too informal?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Most people at these things prefer ma’am or miss or sir. You know how it is.”

“Uh-huh. You can call me Holly.”

“Okay.”

“That’s not breaking protocol or anything is it?”

“Nah. Dare’s the same way. He has us keep up appearances on formal occasions like this, but he can’t stand it really. He can’t stand putting on airs.”

“I figured,” Holly replied. “So how long have you worked for him?”

“We met at the VA shortly after he got back from overseas. When I told him I used to teach kickboxing back in the day, he invited me along to one of his fights. Turned out he liked my advice, so he kept me around.”

“Did you ever do any fighting yourself?”

“Semi-pro when I was young, before I joined the Army.”

Holly looked for Dare but couldn’t see him. “So how good
is
he, Ossie?”

“Who? Dare?”

“Yes.”

“The best fighter out there, by a mile. He’ll be World Champion, no question. There’s only one thing stopping him that I can see.”

“What’s that?”

“He won’t play the game the way they like it to be played.”

“The IMMAF you mean?”

He nodded. “And the rest. There’s an army of promoters and media people out there who need to be fed. They want clicks on their websites and TV spots for their products and so on and so on. They want someone who’ll sell their crap. Our man, Dare, with all due respect, is
the
last
guy you’d ask to shill for you. He’d just spit it back in your face. That’s why his agent has to be the most creative guy in town. He has to come up with ways to make Dare Bowden a celebrity sports icon—while Dare will go out of his way to avoid the spotlight. It’s ironic, isn’t it? How popular he’s becoming in spite of himself.”

Holly wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Popular” was a relative term. Being famous didn’t necessarily make one popular. After all, nobody liked an asshole.

“Does he bring a lot of girls here?” she asked, immediately hating that she’d done so. Why was she trying to
make
him into an asshole? He’d done nothing to deserve it. On the contrary, he’d been exactly what she’d needed.

“That’s not my place to say.” Even Ossie sounded disappointed by her question. “It’s his affair.”

“Sorry, Ossie. I’m just…still trying to figure all this out.”

“’S okay, miss. Holly.”

“Do you know where Dare is?”

“No. He said something had come up.” He looked around. “I could get someone to find out.”

“Oh, you don’t have to… I can have a look around,” she said.

“Dare told me not to leave you alone.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Not sure,” he replied. “Maybe he doesn’t want you to disappear on him.” Ossie’s cheeky wink made her feel more welcome here than a hundred rich guests had done since her arrival.

“So I’ll just stay with you, Ossie.”

He rocked on his heels. “Man, if I’d heard that twenty years ago…”