“Truth or dare?”
Ha!
I’m not falling for that again.
“Dare.”
“A dare, huh?” he drawls before pursing his lips. A thoughtful look enters his eyes. “All right, I got one.” There’s a pause as my anxiety ratchets up a few hundred notches. “Your dare is to kiss me.”
My arms and legs freeze, and my body sinks to the bottom of the pool. Right before my head can slip beneath the surface, I kick my feet and propel myself upward.
“What?” My voice comes out sounding high-pitched and shrill.
“And you have to wrap your legs around my waist while doing it.”
No way!
“But—but…your naked.” My voice escalates until it’s barely a squeak.
“So?” He raises a brow. “It’s nothing you haven’t felt or seen before.”
“We’re not going to talk about that,” I bite out harshly.
“Why not?”
“Because…” My voice trails off as I search for a way to escape the situation, but there isn’t one. I’m stuck. Goddamn it. Why did I agree to play this stupid game in the first place? It might have sounded innocent in the beginning, but it’s turned out to be anything but.
When I remain stoically silent, he says in a challenging voice, “You’re not going to puss out on me, are you, Stanbury?”
I blink back to the present.
To the naked guy treading water in front of me.
“No.”
Surprise flickers across his face. Trust me, he’s not the only one shocked by my capitulation. I’m feeling a little stunned myself.
Beck might be the only guy I’ve had sex with, but he’s not the only one I’ve fooled around with. The sad truth is that every time I get close to sealing the deal, all of my Beck-filled memories rush to the surface and ruin everything. Even though I don’t want to, I end up comparing the guy I’m with to my hot, next-door neighbor. And they always come up lacking.
It’s frustrating. I’ve tried to convince myself that what I experienced with Beck wasn’t nearly as good as what I’ve built it up to be.
But not even I believe that.
Maybe this is my chance to prove that Beck isn’t as amazing as I remember. One mediocre kiss with too much saliva is all it would take to move on and stop dwelling on him.
Beck grins before he raises his hand and curls one finger in a come here gesture.
Am I really going to do this?
I suck in a shaky breath before carefully exhaling it from my lungs and forcing myself to close the distance between us. When I’m only a foot away, I pause, unsure how to proceed. Tension and excitement spiral through me. My hands flutter tentatively to his shoulders before my nails bite into his flesh.
His eyes darken with desire.
What am I supposed to do now?
My movements falter and I stare pleadingly, willing him to take control of the situation. This is more difficult than I imagined it would be.
“Come on, Stanbury,” he murmurs, “you’ve come this far. Don’t stop now.”
I press closer until our bodies can brush against one another beneath the water.
Inside, I’m freaking out.
This isn’t a big deal.
You’re wearing bikini bottoms.
Any other girl would be wrapped around him like a python, devouring him whole.
All you have to do is pretend you’re one of those girls.
Averting my gaze, I widen my thighs before wrapping them around his waist.
“Eyes on me,” he says gruffly.
My attention snaps to him as I swallow down my nervousness. There’s a fire burning in his bright green eyes. It kindles an answering flame deep in my core.
My ankles hook around his waist, bringing me flush against his taut abdominals. Like the rest of him, they’re rock hard. I’m tempted to explore the grooved musculature with my fingers, but don’t dare. He stares at my mouth as his tongue darts out to lick at his lower lip.
A punch of arousal slams me in the gut.
All right, maybe it hits a little lower.
With a pent-up breath, I wait for Beck to make the next move. Instead, he remains still, eyes focused patiently on me. Seconds tick by and it becomes obvious that he isn’t going to take control of the situation. A fresh wave of anxiety crashes over me. This is my dare, and Beck is going to force me to follow through with it.
Okay. I can do this.
Unsure how to proceed, I tilt my head, bringing my face closer until his breath can drift across my lips before mingling with my own. The intimacy is dizzying. It’s like I’ve been drugged. We stay frozen, breathing each other in and out, before I finally work up the courage to press my lips against his.
Everything about Beck is hard and chiseled. Except his lips. I forgot how soft—almost plush in their plumpness—they are.
A strange sense of boldness surges through me and I angle my head, stroking over his top lip before repeating the caress to the bottom. Beck doesn’t move a muscle. He gives me the freedom to explore him at my own pace.