Take Me if You Dare (Entangled Brazen) (2 page)

He took hold of her hand, and in silent agreement, they walked off the packed dance floor, headed for the bar. When they got there, she settled into the last empty seat fanning her face, warm from the humidity and the lingering effects of the kiss.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

She allowed herself an extra second to study him, taking in the slight bump on his nose, the masculine angles of his face, and the hint of her gloss still on his lips. His eyes, like the pull of gravity, brought her attention back up to his steady gaze.

“Chardonnay,” she said.

He signaled the bartender, placed the order for her wine, and added on a beer.

As she dabbed away the light sheen of moisture on her forehead with a napkin, he leaned down, and the light stubble on his face brushed against her cheek. “By the way,” he said, “my name is Ethan.”

Chapter Two

She looked at him, and once again, she got all tangled up in the pull of attraction still buzzing between them. His puzzled stare reminded her he was waiting for a response, and she gave herself a mental shake.

“I’m Jasmine.”

The bartender showed up with their drinks, and while Ethan paid for them, she took a sip from her glass. The cold, crisp, fruity taste of the wine brought her temperature down and washed away some of the dryness from her throat.

“So tell me, Jasmine.” He placed his hand on the back of her chair, a proprietary gesture, claiming her and their space at the bar. “You had to have known every knuckleheaded guy in this place was going to hit on you, so why are you here alone?”

She debated among the coy, the cute, and the utterly clueless, and opted for a slice of the truth.

“I was attending a conference this week, and I didn’t get a chance to relax. It’s my last night in Miami, and a friend suggested this place so…” She shrugged out the last part of her answer behind another sip of wine.

He chuckled, and the deep timbre of his laugh stroked over her in all the right places.

“Relax?” He eyed her over the beer bottle as he took a drink. “Your friend doesn’t know Miami very well. This bar is one of the hottest spots in the city on a Saturday night.”

Jasmine sputtered, nearly choking on her wine. “Ah—no, she must have missed that part.”

Tab had actually said the lounge was boring, more of a place for business than pleasure, and had suggested she go to a trendier club downtown.

Sneaky witch…

She’d agreed to Tab’s dare to get over her dry spell, like a batter finally taking a swing to get out of a slump, that’s all. No flirting, no partying, no long-term expectations. She wasn’t doing this for fun. No doubt Tab was betting on her choosing the hotel lounge as the safest place to find a guy, get the deed done, and still get in a good night’s sleep, alone, before her flight out in the morning.

Ethan regarded her quizzically for a moment, and then he gave her a sexy smile so lethal it obliterated every trace of embarrassment.

Turning the tables, she asked, “So tell me, Ethan, do you normally come here on a Saturday night to rescue women from knuckleheaded men?”

His widening smile deepened the dimple in his left cheek.

“Honestly, I’m here because it’s convenient. My buddy and I are on vacation. We’re staying at his condo farther up the beach.” He leaned down near her ear. “And as far as rescuing a woman in this place goes, you’re my first.”

The way he said the words was like an intimate caress, and her fingers tightened around the stem of the wineglass. She’d never felt this attracted to a man, not even Greg. Another image of her and Ethan settling Tab’s challenge vividly came to mind.

She peered up at him through her lashes, and his gaze met hers.

Oh, who was she kidding? As if she needed Tab’s birthday dare as a reason to twist her arm into any kind of temptation with him.

He moved back and propped his booted foot on the rung of her barstool. His knee brushed her thigh and tingles radiated over her skin.

“I’m also playing chaperone tonight.” He gestured with his beer bottle toward an equally impressive man standing at a table with a blonde and a brunette. Both of the women’s perfectly proportioned bodies were poured into skintight dresses, and they balanced on six-inch fuck-me heels.

His buddy spotted him, and the two men exchanged a “bro nod” while the brunette licked her lips and sent Ethan a blatant look of invitation.

What the…?

A group of women let out collective a yell of encouragement, and Jasmine looked over at a woman with a tissue bridal veil partying with her friends on the dance floor.

Memories of her own failed engagement came to mind, and a chill washed over her skin. Greg had wanted her to fight for him when she’d found out what happened.
News flash.
He’d
cheated on
her
, not the other way around!

She took a sip of chardonnay and swallowed the wine along with the bitterness rising in her throat. Tab was wrong. She wasn’t ready for this. If this guy thought she was going to get into some kind of a silly catfight to stop another woman from claiming him, his ego was about to take a serious hit.

“Well, thank you for the drink and the save,” she said, setting the half-empty wineglass down on the bar. “I have to go.”

“What? You’re leaving?” He frowned. “It’s not even eight o’clock yet.”

“Yes, I’m leaving.” She gestured lightly over to the trio. “You should probably get back to your chaperoning duties.”

“Mitch has things under control.”

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t think the brunette got that message.” The words slipped out before she could rein in the hint of angry wasp in her tone.

Ethan leaned down and looked directly in her eyes. “I don’t care what the brunette did or didn’t get, as long as you get the message that I’m here with you for as long as you want me to be.”

He slanted his lips to hers and coaxed her into a slow, unhurried exploration of her mouth that made her greedy for more, but once the kiss ended, doubt crept back into her thoughts. She shoved it aside.

What she wanted was simple. No promises, no investments, just a man willing to make a dare a reality.

She eased off the barstool, braced her hands on the side of his waist for balance, and found herself in the perfect position—up close and personal with his chest. As she formulated a plan, her hand wandered, almost of its own accord, past his waistband and pressed against the zipper of his jeans.

Rising up on her toes near his ear she whispered, “And what if I want you next to me all night?”

He lightly closed his fingers around her wrist, and she leaned back to look at him.

Uh-oh—too bold?

Ethan lifted his other hand to tip up her chin, looking into her eyes in a way that almost made her believe he could see straight into her thoughts.

He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip, and then brushed an unhurried kiss over the same spot. “Stick close to me. Romeo’s still on the prowl. He’s had enough drinks to make stupid feel courageous, and I’m not in the mood to educate him on the difference.”

She followed his gaze to a nearby table where the poor guy sat with three women, still not taking the hint as they ignored his presence.

Tugging her gently by the wrist, he urged her in front of him, and they walked toward the connecting restaurant. Once they were inside, they moved through the crowd and the maze of tables. Every time she stopped, his front bumped into her rear, a nice, hard reminder of what they were about to carry out.

What type of lover was he? Greedy, generous, unhurried…demanding?

The thrill of something new, something different, made her heart pound faster in anticipation.

And worry.

Greg hadn’t been her first lover, but like most long-term couples, they’d slid into a comfortable routine.

A near collision with one of the servers carrying a tray caused Jasmine to lose her balance, but Ethan wrapped his arm securely around her waist. He held her upright and his arousal nudged against her hip. Warmth pooled low in her middle and quickly replaced her worries of looking like a klutz.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Absolutely.
All she wanted to do was lie back in the firm cradle of his chest. Pulling herself together, she nodded and willed her legs to move toward the exit. They walked out of the restaurant into the far less populated hallway of the hotel, and a rush of cold air reoriented her senses. She slipped her hand into the hidden pocket in the folds of her skirt, and her fingers brushed against the small leather holder with the key card to her room. Her heartbeat kicked up another notch, and words of invitation hovered on the tip of her tongue.

“When do you leave town?” Ethan slowed down, and she had to match his stride or risk coming off as desperate. They stopped just short of the elevator, and she wondered about the sudden hesitation.

She cleared her throat. “Tomorrow afternoon. What about you?”

“Me too.” He moved in front of her, inches away, leaving her no choice but to look up.

A waterfall…

That’s what his eyes reminded her of—a cool, sparkling waterfall she wanted to step under and let rain down all over her body.

“What happened?” he asked.

Geared up for any other question but that one, her mind went blank. “Wh-what?”

He skimmed his hands up and down her arms, warming away the chill from her skin. “A woman like you doesn’t make the choice to get under a man this way unless she’s trying to get over someone.”

Her cheeks scalded with heat. Was she that obvious?

“Don’t get me wrong.” Another one of his wickedly handsome smiles formed on his mouth. “I don’t mind being used, but I just have one small requirement.”

Wariness slithered through her mind. “Like what?” she asked, cautiously.

“Dinner.”

Chapter Three

The doorbell rang, and Ethan took one last glance around the condo. He and Mitch were good about keeping up the place, but a quick check through the couch cushions had unearthed a high heel from a woman’s shoe, a tube of lipstick, and a condom wrapper. Hopefully, there weren’t any more hidden surprises that could potentially kill the mood.

Just sex…

He knew the drill. Some asshole betrays a woman, and she hooks up with another guy to get over the past. Honestly, he
didn’t
mind being used. What guy would with a woman who looked like Jasmine? But after keeping up with Mitch on the partying end of things this week, he needed a break. Slowing things down with dinner instead of just a hit-and-run would actually give him a chance to relax and enjoy the moment for once.

Ethan opened the door, and his gaze wandered over Jasmine and the short strapless burgundy sheath she’d changed into that fit her like a second skin.

“Hey,” she said.

She smiled but he picked up on the slight quiver in her voice.

Stepping back, he welcomed her into the condo, and as she passed by, a light, fresh powdery perfume wafted through the air. He filled his lungs with it, the simple function of breathing rating second to holding on to her scent. He shut the door and clicked the lock into place.

“I didn’t want to come empty-handed so I brought dessert.” She turned around and held out a white boutique bag with a gold emblem stamped on it. “I think I’ve developed an addiction to the hotel’s chocolate mousse pie.”

Pulling his gaze away from her legs, he walked over to her, took the bag with one hand, and slid the other around her waist. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Well, you did leave your phone number and a copy of your driver’s license with the concierge. The women at the front desk were impressed.” She laughed, but the casualness she was striving for wasn’t quite there.

“Well, since your adopted guardians trusted me enough to let you come out tonight, do me a favor?”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“Relax. Whatever happens tonight is at your speed, your pace.”

Her lips curved into an honest smile, and she rested her hand lightly on his chest. “Okay. I think I can handle that.”

“Good,” he said, and then he gave in to his own new addiction—her lips, drowning in the flavor of mint, something that tasted like berries, and her low moan humming into his chest.

She pressed her warm, supple body against him, and he was tempted to take things further, but he dragged himself away. At this rate, they wouldn’t make it to dinner, but he was on a mission—a relaxing meal, maybe dessert, and then sampling every delicious part of Jasmine.

He let her go with a final lingering kiss and tamped down the urge to trail his lips to the pulse he saw beating wildly in her throat.

Releasing a shaky breath, she turned away from him and put her purse down on the arm of the couch.

“Wow, this is a great view.” She walked toward the wall of glass that ran the entire length of the first-floor vacation condo facing the beach and sighed. “If I was staying here, I wouldn’t have made it to the conference.”

Ethan’s gaze traveled down her body and rested on the firm curves of her ass. “I agree.”

She looked over her shoulder, and her gaze moved down past his waist. “You should do something with that.” Her tongue darted quickly over her lower lip, and his cock took notice. Her eyes widened a bit, but she didn’t turn away. Long seconds later, she looked back up. “You don’t want that to get too hot.” A flustered look passed over her face. “I mean the dessert… It needs to stay cold. You should put it in the refrigerator.”

He suppressed a smile. She was the real deal. Honest, open, sexy, no games to play, no hoops to jump through. How often had he come across that in a woman? Try almost never. Most of them were like the brunette Mitch had tried to hook him up with.

Following her advice about dessert, he retrieved a chilled bottle of white wine. After he poured two glasses, he joined her by the kitchen window. Satisfaction spread over him knowing he was spending the night with the right woman. He handed her the glass and smiled. “I hope you like steak.”

…

Jasmine ate the last bite of tender rib eye and released a contented sigh.

Ethan lifted up the bottle of wine. “More?”

“No, I’m good.”

She was already swayed way too much by the soft breeze, the low candlelight, and how he gave her his full attention. Just like on the dance floor, he’d put her at ease, and the conversation had flowed through a variety of topics from her week at the conference, her home back in Dallas compared to where he lived in Greenville, South Carolina, to what type of music she listened to during her morning workouts. She’d even shared some of her crazy escapades with Tab.

And what about the birthday dare?

Even though he’d guessed part of the reason for her proposition, how could she tell him about that, especially after all of this?

You know Tab, my best friend I just told you about? Well, today’s my birthday, and she dared me to have a one-night stand to officially get back into the swing of things.

Right
—there was no way on earth that tawdry little confession was coming out of her mouth. She’d already hogged up most of the conversation. Slightly embarrassed she hadn’t taken any interest in him, beyond the physical, she asked a question.

“So what type of work do you do?”

“I work for a contracting firm as a security specialist.”

She waited, but he didn’t elaborate any further. “Is it security as in technology, risk management, guarding a bank?”

He took a sip of wine and placed his glass back on the table. “I protect corporate VIPs and government officials. At times I work downrange with the military.”

“Downrange?”

“Sorry,” he released a low chuckle. “Sometimes I forget that not everyone has a military background. I guess the easiest way to put it is that at times we assist the military.”

She read between the lines. The word “easiest” meant how to say it without giving away too much. In his line of work, it was probably considered an important skill.

“So, I guess you travel a lot?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but sometimes I’m stateside for extended periods of time. It depends on the job.”

A small pang of disappointment tugged in the middle of her chest. She breathed it away. It didn’t matter. He was off her good-man prospect list anyway because he didn’t live in Texas.

“What about you?” He leaned in and rested his forearms on the table. “You mentioned that the company you work for sets up wellness programs. Does your job require you to travel?”

She forced a smile. “It used to…when I was a program coordinator for the company. I loved it, but I resigned last year when I thought I was moving to Virginia.” She fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “That plan didn’t work out.”

He reached across the table for her hand. “That must have been tough.”

The soft stroke of his thumb against the center of her palm took away most of the sting from the memory of how she’d ended up jobless, homeless, and heartbroken. To add insult to injury, Myra, a coworker who’d consistently gone out of her way to undermine her projects, was promoted into her position.

“Yeah, it was, but Ted, my old boss, helped me get a job as a member representative in the call center. In the end, it all worked out.”

“And in time, you’ll be able to work your way back up?” He intertwined their fingers, and the slightly rough texture of the calluses on his hand sent tingles zipping across her skin.

She nodded, but her mind had already wandered from climbing the corporate ladder to advancing things along with Ethan.

Was his chest smooth? Were his long legs as muscular as they looked? Was that a six- or eight-pack of abs she’d felt earlier?

Imagination kicked in, and she was lost in the fantasy of slowly pushing up his shirt and letting her fingers skim over every dip and rise of muscle on his stomach all the way up to his chest. He’d have to take over then because she’d be too busy unfastening his jeans. In her mind, she saw a light sprinkling of hair way low on his abdomen. It would tickle her fingers as she slipped her hand into the vee of his zipper. The slow reveal kept unfolding in Jasmine’s mind, and her breathing grew shallow. Her dress started to feel uncomfortably tight as she imagined him as the type who went commando, making it easier for her to wrap her fingers around—

“Are you finished?” he asked.

Not even close
.

Reluctantly, she ended the fantasy and brought her attention back to the present. “Yes. That was great.”

After they cleared the table, they went inside, and she helped him tidy the kitchen…well, at least she tried. Who knew watching a man rinse a few dishes could turn into a near orgasm-inducing experience? Every time he squeezed out the sponge, her nipples ached more and more with the image of her sitting on the counter and him stroking and kneading her breasts with his hands. After almost maiming her fingers with a steak knife, she excused herself and went into the bathroom. On her way back, her knees shook with anticipation.

When she walked into the kitchen, Ethan was cutting generous slices of chocolate mousse pie, and she released a groan, partly out of sexual frustration. “I don’t think I can handle another bite.”

“But you said you were addicted to this stuff.”

“I am—and that’s why I’m breaking the habit, starting now.” Knowing that was a hard promise to keep, especially as her mind ventured into thoughts of licking chocolate right off his chest, she stayed on the other side of the kitchen.

“No deal, woman.” His brow lifted with a chuckle. “If it’s as good as you claim there’s no way you’re leaving me with all of it.” He spooned up a healthy bite and moved toward her.

Seeing the mischievous sense of purpose glittering in his eyes, she tried to sidestep him but found herself effectively backed up against the counter. “But it’s a thank-you gift for dinner,” she pleaded.

He shook his head. “But nothing—open up.”

Despite her objections, she opened her mouth and took in the rich bite of goodness. Once she recovered from complete food ecstasy, she narrowed her eyes on him. “That wasn’t fair.”

He chuckled and handed her a napkin. “Maybe not, but I know you enjoyed it.”

Laughing, she dabbed at her mouth, trying not to disturb her freshly applied tinted gloss. “Wait a minute.” He took the napkin out of her hand. “You missed a spot.”

As he started to lift the napkin toward her mouth, he stopped. Leaning in, he lazily flicked his tongue against the corner of her mouth.

“You’re right,” he said. “It’s very addictive.”

Ethan slanted his lips over hers, and the firm strokes of his tongue whipped up a decadent mix of chocolate and desire. She’d never had anything so delicious in her life, and the more she took in, the more she wanted. The need for oxygen finally forced her away, and she rested her forehead on his chest.

He swore softly. “Yeah, that
is
one hell of a dessert.” As he moved his hands up and down her back, he lowered his head and brushed his lips along the sensitive skin of her throat. “All I’ve thought about since you walked in the door is touching you, tasting you, and being inside of you.” He punctuated his words with more soft kisses before capturing her mouth with his and delivering a message so blatantly sexual it made her slightly dizzy. Ethan moved his lips a hairbreadth away. “Are you sure?”

Jasmine closed her eyes, hardly able to breathe, let alone explain her state of mind. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe one night could magically erase or fix anything, but it could give what she’d denied herself for a very long time. Simple pleasure.

Gripping the front of his shirt, she pulled him down and let the slow drag and curl of her tongue in his mouth convey what she craved for just one night. Ethan’s deep groan hummed into her mouth, and he grabbed hold of her butt, anchoring her against him. The solid ridge pressing through his jeans short-circuited her mind in place with one single repeating thought.

She wanted him.