He opened his mouth to respond, but she continued.
“What you did was worse. I’ll admit that you might have felt a little tense after we, almost, you know, but I’m sure you and your girlfriend, Palmela Handerson, had quite a romantic evening together after you left me in bed.”
She could go no further. In her haste to get away, they landed in the laundry room, and she had effectively trapped herself in. The room was spacious with two massive washers and dryers lining the back wall, along with a sink and several large cabinets. The whole room was done in white including the appliances. The only splash of color came from an Oak, rectangular table located in the middle of the room and the sunny yellow rug under it.
She tried to put the table between herself and Dare. It didn’t work. As he stepped closer, he asked, “Who the hell is Palmela Handerson?”
Caelen rolled her eyes.
Really?
“She’s your four digits and a thumb.”
Dare lifted his large hand, made a fist, and gritted out, “I didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” she asked as she spun around, placing her laptop on the table.
He looked up, his shoulders bunched in frustration. “I didn’t have a romantic evening—or morning—by myself.”
He hadn’t?
“Why not?” She held her breath and couldn’t help letting her gaze drift downward. Yup. Hard as a rock.
He paused with his hands on his hips and bowed his head slightly as if he were looking at his shoes. His head snapped up. “Because I wanted
you
. Still want you so damn bad my balls are sitting in my throat.”
“O-oh.”
He had such a way with words. God, they made her hot. He had none of the suave poetry Victor used to feed her. Dare was just pure need, and she
loved
it.
“You—You didn’t t-touch yourself?” she cleared her throat, trying desperately to keep her eyes above his waist.
He took a deep breath. He looked so masculine and demanding as he stared at her with his head cocked to the side, all of his delicious male heat centered on her. She didn’t think Victor had ever looked at her so intensely, not once in the two years they were together. He was always distracted, always had a million other people monopolizing his time.
“No, I didn’t.” He took two steps toward her and crowded her against the washing machine. “Even though I ached so bad, I thought my dick would fall off.”
“But it would have been so easy for you to just reach down and…” Her right hand reached out toward him, landing on the firm muscles of his stomach, feeling his warmth through his shirt. But instead of pushing him away, she found herself rubbing along every ribbed muscle her fingers could find.
“It just wouldn’t have been the same. I’d had your soft, wet,” he groaned long and low, “mouth, right there, so close. I wanted to feel your lips, your wet tongue. How could this,” he held up his large palm, “compare to all that beauty? I told myself I wouldn’t come until it was by your mouth.”
Damn his devil tongue!
She was a puddle of silken heat and it was a miracle her legs didn’t go out from under her. When they were thirteen years old, he’d used that nimble tongue to tease, pick on, and
torture
her. Who knew that when he had the right stimulation, he could use that diabolical tongue for good?
His words were so damn sexy.
Her hand started to dip down and rested right above the waistline of his jeans. He breathed in deep and ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he teetered on the edge of control, but so far he was following the rules: no touching.
Stupid rules.
Three days. She only had three days left. And even though she had to be strong and not give in to the bone-deep desire sitting just under her skin, she could take charge for once. The possibility of making this gorgeous man as pliant as Silly Putty was a serious turn-on.
It made her feel strong. She liked it.
Dare leaned in and brushed his cheek against her, his masculine scent tickling her senses. His size engulfed her, his wide shoulders blocking out everything in the room except the feel of him. The warm,
sexy
feel of him. “I’m not kissing you. I’m following the rules. Cheeks don’t count, right?”
He was babbling now and she wanted to laugh maniacally. She had him right where she wanted him. P-U to the T-T-Y. Just as she was about to start unbuttoning his belt, he whispered. “Oh, and by the way, as per our agreement. I pick the time and the place.”
“Just once.”
“Well, I’m playing my ace. So do me a favor and get that tiny hand of yours moving just a little lower.”
She laughed, but didn’t move.
His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. “No playing games. You know if it weren’t for your stupid rules, I could make you beg for it.”
The familiar words penetrated her body and coalesced in a cold lump, right in her stomach. All of her power evaporated in seconds. So much for the putty. Her confidence wagged and she tried to take a step back.
The reminder was too fresh, too raw, taking her back to the last two years of her life. Back to her time with Victor. Back to the text she’d read minutes before. It seemed the oily residue of the biggest mistake of her life was a dark stain she couldn’t wash away.
It always came back to Victor.
That son of a bitch had wielded control like a finely sharpened blade, cutting and slicing, constantly manipulating every situation. It was such an integral part of his job that Caelen had assumed he couldn’t turn it off.
If she were honest with herself, she could admit it had been exhilarating, at first. She never knew when he’d appear, never knew what he’d want from her. They’d parried back and forth until one day she realized just how mean he could become when things didn’t go his way.
Now, with only a few words, the exchange with Dare felt all too familiar. Were all men manipulative assholes or was she just one of the lucky few that attracted them like Kardashians to a reality show casting call?
Some part of her acknowledged she was probably being unfair to Dare, but that didn’t stop her from plastering her hands against his chest and pushing hard. Her adrenaline kicked in, because to her surprise, he actually stumbled backwards, ending up halfway in the hallway.
His smirk vanished. “What the hell?”
Before she could storm off in a huff, he crowded back in. The steps looked synchronized. One step forward for him, two quick steps back for her until she felt the cold metal of the washing machine behind her.
In the next second, he scooped her up and planted her on top of the machine. “Hey, what just happened?” His frown was still in place, but his low voice was much softer.
She shrugged. What could she say? My married ex-boyfriend did a number on my head?
“What. Happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Caelen, I swear to God, this better not become a pattern with you. I don’t like being shut out.” He paused and took a long deep breath. Maybe to calm down? “Did I make you feel uncomfortable? You know I wasn’t really mad, don’t you?” His hands rested on the top of the washing machine, effectively caging her in his arms.
Why did she like his arms around her so much?
“I would kill to have your mouth on me, right now, but I don’t like secrets. That doesn’t work for me. What were you thinking about that upset you so much?”
Oh, I was just thinking about how I finally felt in control, but you had to go and ruin it with your big mouth
. “None-ya. I’m fine.”
“
What
?”
“None-ya business.”
“Caelen.”
She knew he would continue down a road she didn’t want to travel, not now. Not ever. Especially not with him. “It was nothing. I’m just still mad at you for leaving me naked on the bed.” She couldn’t very well explain that she planned on reneging on the stipulation she’d agreed to. Technically, he was supposed to be able to pick one time and one place in their little agreement. If only she’d realized her relationship PTSD might kick in.
He frowned again, took a long pause, and frowned some more. “I’m going to let it go, for now. By the way, I didn’t leave you naked. What kind of douche do you take me for?
“Do you really want me to answer that question? Okay, okay,” she responded with a laugh when he made to lunge in closer. “I won’t answer your question. But then, why did you say that I looked uncomfortable?”
“I did take
some
of your clothes off, but I didn’t leave you naked.” With one hand he traced to outer edge of her ear.
Goosebumps erupted down her spine, and she swatted his hand away. Suddenly, Victor and his manipulations were pushed to the backburner. “So what exactly did I look like when you left me last night?”
“You had your bra and panties on. I swear.”
“Then why did I wake up naked?”
“Sounds like you were the one who had the romantic interlude… with yourself. Better have been with yourself,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.
She snorted.
“Puh-lease!
I—” She paused when a sneaking suspicion hit. Could she have drunk-stripped? She’d been known to do it a time or two in her life, but usually it was just everything above the waist. Maybe because she only had her bra and panties on, it’d been easy to go the Full Monty.
She took a deep breath and finally met his eyes. God, she could just sink into them. She loved the swirls of color, light brown rimmed in black. So pretty. Yet somehow not girly. Nothing about this man was feminine.
She shook herself. The laundry room, the cold washing machine and the frowning male in front of her all came back in focus. Truly, his eyes were a lethal weapon. Perched this high, it made it easy to forget that she wore little else than a very short baby-doll dress that was bunched so high on her thighs, she almost looked pantless.
Time to talk about the real issue. Sort of. Too bad he had no idea what was really going on. She held her breath and blurted out. “What if—What if I don’t want to let you pick the time and place? What if I say no?”
One dark brow rose slowly, but he took his time in answering. Caelen could feel his eyes devouring her face, taking in every expression, every faint blush. Not that she could see him. She was too busy examining, as if her life depended on it, a piece of lint on her dress.
“Well, if I were a good guy I would tell you I was so damn grateful to be with you that it wouldn’t matter when and where.” He paused and let his words sink in. Slowly, he leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. “And that I have no problem letting you set the when and where. Just as long as there
is
a when and where.”
She let out a long, drawn out breath.
“But,” he said with a wink, “we both know I’m a son of a bitch, so I wouldn’t let it go without some negotiation.” He leaned back and studied her face. He smiled but the grin didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze still burned, probably from trying to figure out why she’d pulled away. But he’d offered her humor, putting himself down to make her feel better.
But she wasn’t stupid enough to give him a total pass, even though she was starting to get a sneaking suspicion he was one of the good guys. Her instincts left a lot to be desired. Instead, she rolled her eyes, feigning outrage. “Figures you’d would want to negotiate. Typical man. What would you want, you son of a bitch?”
He laughed, and this time the humor was real.
“What? Your words, not mine. So if I say no, how am I going to have to pay up?”
He rocked back on his heels, giving her some space. “That’s easy. I want another kiss.” The grin plastered on Dare’s face was very, very wicked. Too wicked.
With those four words it all came flooding back. Her desire, the warmth, and the tsunami of heat pooling between her legs. What she’d needed from him was a little reassurance that he wouldn’t repeat Victor’s manipulative games. And while Dare was the King of Verbal Volley, he obviously wasn’t interested in putting her down.
Interesting.
Bzzz. Bzzz
.
Her damn phone.
Again
. If it was Victor, she refused to give him another second of her time.
“You need to get that?”
“Nope.” Unwilling to dwell, she focused on what was real. Dare, in front of her, with a wicked smile and a raging hard on. It was time to enjoy the few days she had with him.
“Dare, do you remember, growing up, that I was a good girl?” she asked as she traced a hand around the top ridge of his belt.
His eyes dilated. He took a deep breath in before he nodded.
“So you must remember that I’m a girl who always follows the rules.”
“Always.” He gulped.
His intensely dazed look returned along with Caelen’s sense of power. Screw talking.
“Always.
So if you tell me that you want to call in your—What did you call it, your ace? Then I am honor bound by my own personal code to follow the rules. I take rules very seriously,” she said with a laugh, unable to hold onto the “pouty girl” character for too long.
He stared for a minute and frowned, and she actually felt sorry for the poor man. He probably thought it was another trick. Dare didn’t know she was to blow his little head right off.
Right here. Right now.
Chapter 16
‡
O
NCE AGAIN,
D
ARE’S
mind tried to quickly organize the chaos of the situation
and
the woman he was currently dealing with.
One. He’d been pissed, she’d been mad, he’d fucked up, he’d pushed things too fast, she’d balked, he’d groveled, she’d started lecturing about rules… and now had maybe changed her mind?
Two. He was on fire, and his blue balls had removed any hope of rational thought.
Confusing woman.
And strong! She’d had him halfway across the room with one shove. That hadn’t mattered as much as the flash of hurt he’d glimpsed in her eyes. Who the hell had made her feel that way? Something he’d said set her off, but his gut told him he wasn’t responsible for the pain. The whole thing made him want to punch something.