“I know that you like to play it safe, but you also like to flirt with danger sometimes. That underneath that good-girl, always-by-the-book, drive-the-speed-limit exterior, there beats the heart of someone who likes to take a risk now and again. You don’t need to prove that to me. I know you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because that’s what made you fall into my bed in the first place. You liked the danger.”
“No, I didn’t.” But the minute she denied it, she knew it was true. Hadn’t she gone into Beck’s bed knowing full well he’d do exactly what he did: make her come so often she almost forgot her own name and then disappear afterward? It was what he did to everyone else, so she couldn’t expect anything different. She’d been beating herself up for being foolish, but maybe he was right. Maybe it was the danger that drew her to him in the first place. Maybe this had been what she wanted all along.
“Look, maybe I’m turning over a new leaf. Maybe this doesn’t have anything to do with you.” She wanted to say anything to keep him watching her, attentive. Why did she care about making herself sound interesting to the man who’d shown her how little he cared? She shouldn’t, and yet keeping his focus felt like a perverse accomplishment. “I’m a new Allie, one you don’t know so well.”
Beck’s lips quirked up in a patient, though patronizing, smile. “So, this new Allie Connor. Tell me about her.”
“She takes risks. She’s spontaneous,” Allie began. “She doesn’t need Liam Beck.” She didn’t need to know everything about him. She no longer felt the need to pry open all those secret boxes inside his heart and see what was inside.
He chuckled, a sound she felt low in her belly. God, she loved making this man laugh. She wanted to do it again, make him throw back his head and belly laugh.
“Or any man. And she’s not boring.”
“I never thought you were boring.”
“Is that why you spread those rumors about me, then? Called me Greenie?” She looked at him sharply.
“What are you talking about?” Now Beck looked thoroughly confused.
“I heard that you’d been spreading rumors about me, about how dull I was. Like a green ski run.”
“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” Beck shook his head. “I never spread rumors about you. I swear to you, I’ve never said anything bad about you. Because there’s nothing bad to say. You’re damn near perfect, Allie Connor.”
This shut her up completely. She felt stunned, down to her toes. The connection she felt between them thrummed, and she vibrated, like he’d pulled a guitar string that ran straight to the center of her.
“But you ran. You didn’t even want to be friends afterward. I just thought... I was dumb, I guess, but I thought we’d at least be friends.” Tears glistened on her lashes. She batted them away, frustrated. Why did she care so much? She knew she shouldn’t care.
“I’m sorry, Al. I really am.” She could almost feel him pulling away from her. She needed to stop all this heaviness. Beck didn’t do heavy emotions. He liked to play in the shallow end of the pool. The more she lingered here, the more he’d want to run away again. “What were we supposed to do? We’d had some wine, and we were snowed in for thirty hours alone in a lodge.”
Beck had offered to show her his ski lodge that he was thinking about selling. He wanted to ask her opinion about updating the bathrooms in the place, which slept twelve, and as his friend, she was happy to oblige. Hell, to be honest, anywhere Beck asked her to go, she would’ve gone. She knew that. She’d been secretly thrilled when she learned the lodge was accessible only by snowcat or helicopter. How she’d wished the snowstorm would move in earlier, and then it had. As if she’d willed it there.
He had plenty of provisions, and tons of wood to keep his stove and fireplace stoked and the lodge warm. They’d also dipped into his serious wine collection. It was a recipe for sex. It was what the place was made for. The sauna for two, the shower with the many, many hot jets of water pouring from the ceiling and the tiled walls, and, of course, Beck. She remembered how she’d wondered how many other women he’d taken there, how many other women had lain on his bearskin rug by the fireplace, how many others he’d taken into his massive bed made of pine and shown them what it was like to melt their bones. She hated that she’d so badly jumped into that queue, eager to take her turn.
“The weather forecasters were wrong. We were supposed to be long gone before that snow hit. And...” He sighed. “I knew I shouldn’t cross that line with you, Al.”
Line? What line? He hadn’t crossed it at all. She’d pulled him over it with both hands. The thought that he seduced her was absolutely ridiculous. Beck glanced at her.
“You think you seduced me?” Allie couldn’t believe her ears. “You thought you lured me into bed with you? That I didn’t want to go?”
Beck glanced at her, momentarily puzzled. “Well, yeah. That’s what happened.”
“I was hoping for that snowstorm,” Allie said. “I was hoping we’d get trapped there. Why do you think I asked to go later in the day? Why do you think I wore red lace lingerie?”
Beck blinked twice. “You were planning to sleep with me.”
“Yes.” She stared at him.
“You took advantage of me, then.”
“Absolutely, yes.” Allie stared at Beck, daring him to contradict her.
“You were going to risk our friendship?” Beck still seemed in disbelief.
Allie nodded.
“Even if I wasn’t going to be your boyfriend or whatever normal people do when they date.”
“I didn’t care. I just wanted you.”
“But you can’t do casual, Allie. You’re not built that way.”
“I just want you, Beck. Any way I can have you.”
Beck stared, and for a split second, Allie thought he might lean over and kiss her. Or maybe she just wished it, hoped for it. She’d laid herself bare, because she couldn’t help it. Not around Beck.
“But I know you want something more.”
That was the truth. She knew he refused to be serious in his relationships, yet part of her had hoped she was wrong. Believed that he might care for her more than he let on. But then, she chastised herself for believing that. Why did she think she’d be any different than any of the other women he took to his bed? Why did she think she could change him? It was the worst cliché of all time.
“I can handle it.”
“You’re not handling it.” How could he do that? Beck just had a way of making her feel seen. She could never have any real secrets from him. It wasn’t fair. She had no choice now but to lie.
“I’m the new and improved Allie. I am not who you think I am.” And why did she care so much about what he thought of her anyway? Why did she care to prove to him that he hadn’t hurt her?
“So, the new Allie will do what? Climb mountains?”
“Maybe. Ski more at least.”
“Even backcountry trails?”
“Maybe.”
Beck raised a blond eyebrow in surprise. Of course, he would be surprised. How often had she cautioned him about the dangers of skiing unmarked trails high in avalanche country? Every time there’d been an accident with a skier she’d pointed it out to him. Tried to convince him how dangerous his hobbies were.
“What else? Bungee jump?”
“Yes.” She didn’t flinch.
“And...?”
“And take anyone to bed I want.” There, she’d said it.
“Anyone?” He quirked an eyebrow and Allie realized her mistake at once. She’d meant to tell him she planned to sleep with someone else, but the fact was, there wasn’t anyone else she wanted to sleep with, and she felt like they both knew it.
“Dare me,” she murmured, voice low. Dare me to do anything. To strip naked. To get on her knees and take all of
him in her mouth. The worst part was that she wanted him to. Even after he’d run away, she still wanted him. She pressed her thighs together and felt a tingle there, the spark of want. She could almost imagine his hands on her, how they’d feel running up the softest skin of her thigh, his fingers exploring her. She realized that if he asked any of those things, she might just do it. She wanted to do it. Even after all that Beck had done, and all this time trying to recover, she still felt that magnetic pull to him, a force that seemed far out of her control.
“Okay.” Beck was going to take his time asking for what he wanted. Allie’s heart thudded in her chest and her breathing grew shallow. She could tell him she’d made a mistake, that she’d never take a dare from him. But deep in the pit of her stomach she knew she hadn’t made any mistake at all. This was what she wanted. Ball in his court, see what he’d do with it. His face was so close to hers that she could almost feel him breathing. She was all too aware of her bare knees and his bare chest, and how little clothing they both wore, how quickly it could be shed.
“Yes?” She tried to keep her voice neutral, but it came out more as a hoarse whisper, something like a prayer.
“I dare you to tell me what you want.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE FELT SUDDENLY on the spot, as if he could sense the changes in her body, the white-hot heat that flooded her. Beck was asking her what she wanted. And it felt like the doorway to so much more.
“What do you mean?” But the mood in the kitchen had already shifted, grown more serious, more sensual.
“Tell me what you want.” His blue eyes fixed her to the spot, dazzling her with a menu of daring options. But the fact was she wanted them all. Wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him to explore her with his fingers, wanted him inside her, the deepest parts of her. She wanted to lose herself in him, now and always.
“I—I...”
“I’m right here, Allie. You have my full attention now. I’ll give you whatever you want.” He glanced at her lips. “Just tell me.”
Now, at last, there it was. The single shift of power. He’d given her the reins now, and she clutched at them. The heady, delirious power. What would she ask of him? There were so many options, and she wanted them all.
“I want you to touch me.”
“Where?”
“Here.” She spread her legs a little. He touched her inner thigh and she shivered. He took his time working upward, and then he met the soft lace of her underwear. He stroked the fabric.
“There?”
She nodded, and his fingers slipped beyond the fabric, finding her warm, wet center.
“Do you want anyone else to touch you here, Allie?” he asked, moving ever so slowly, building the heat within her. For the first time, she could see the real jealousy, the real hurt in him. He didn’t want to share her, and that thrilled her.
She shook her head.
“No one else,” she said. That was the truth.
“Good,” he murmured and pressed his mouth against hers, as he slipped his fingers inside, finding the delicate ridges of her G-spot. She gasped in his mouth. Allie couldn’t think with his hands in her, on her, his mouth devouring her. She wanted...everything. She wanted Beck to love her; she wanted Beck never to leave her; she wanted him...forever.
“Tell me, Al. Tell me,” he pleaded, as if he, too, were swept up in the game, unable to stop himself. There was no dousing the flame she’d lit in her own belly. He was staring at her, blue eyes intent, and she was very much aware that they were both half-naked—her without pants, and him without a shirt.
“I want you to kiss me.”
And then he reached up and gently took her glasses off. She blinked as he set them deliberately on the counter. Then his lips were on hers. And he tasted so damn good. She kissed him back, fervently, desperately, the last two months disappearing entirely. She might as well be back at the lodge, lying on that bearskin rug, Beck’s delicious tongue in her mouth. Her brain switched off and her body took over. She wanted him, wanted him as much as she had then, as she had for the last seven years. She burned with need for him.
And yet was she ready for him to walk out of her life again? Was she ready for that to happen?
She broke the kiss, panting, and she saw the want in his eyes, a need that mirrored her own. He craved her, too.
“I thought you...didn’t want...me.” Her voice came out so low she herself barely heard it.
“I’ll always want you, Allison Connor.” He was so sincere, so serious, that something in her broke then. She’d thought she’d built up a wall of defense against Liam Beck, but now, with him so close, the wall she’d built crumbled, and she realized that it had only been made of paper this whole time. She almost laughed to herself to think that she’d thought she could keep him out of her heart.
They both knew it was wrong. They both knew they shouldn’t go here. Not again. But she couldn’t help it. And she had a growing feeling that neither could he. She kissed him then, softly at first. He didn’t push her away. He wanted the kiss as much as she did. Her lips had a mind of their own as they returned his kiss, deepening it, as the hunger inside her for him grew. Her want was like a pilot light flicking on, igniting a flame that burned hot. Before she knew it, her hands slipped up his bare, muscled back, crawling up his amazingly smooth skin. She knew she should break away from him. She should stop this before it went further, before she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from what came next. But her body screamed for this, for his hands on her, for every pleasure he could give her. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone in her life. No matter what she told herself, she’d always wanted Liam Beck.
He lifted her easily up off the stool and placed her gently on the breakfast bar. For once she was taller as he arched up to reach her lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her hot center against his belly, nothing separating them but the thin, sheer fabric of her underwear. She needed to wake up from this dream. This would not change a thing between her and Beck—neither one of them had changed and hasty sex wasn’t going to take away the last two months—but her body craved him, like an addict that needed a fix. And their bodies spoke a language that flowed so much better than words. Their bodies had an understanding their minds didn’t. His hands were all over her, under her shirt, and the tee came off and she was there in nothing more than her sheer pink lace, bright against her pale skin. She didn’t care as he cupped her breast gingerly over her bra.
Need exploded in her chest, white-hot and demanding, and her legs tightened their grip around his waist, her thighs burning with effort.
“God, Al,” he murmured into her mouth. Their tongues lashed together in the most primal of dances, tasting each other, devouring each other. He pushed into her, and she knocked over his salt and pepper shakers, not that either of them took notice. All she could think about was the man’s mouth and his expert hands and the way his muscled bare back felt against her calves. She wanted to squeeze him and never let him go. She wanted this forever.
She wasn’t drunk now, had no excuse for the fever burning for him in her brain. This was just...Beck. All Beck. The way he was so strong, so built, yet touched her so gently, almost with reverence. He trailed a line of kisses down the delicate skin of her neck and she gasped, the heat building in her, pooling in slickness between her legs. She wanted him. She was ready for him. She needed him more than she’d needed anyone in her life. He pushed against her and an empty coffee cup rattled dangerously next to them.
Beck picked her up then as if she weighed nothing and carried her away from the crowded breakfast bar and over to the bare wall. He held her against it, her back pressed to the cool, flat surface. He held her there, pinned, his muscles working as he pushed against her warm center, his mouth on hers. She felt his need, hard and ready, straining against the thin mesh of his gym shorts. That was all that separated them now, bits of tiny fabric,
all that stopped them from the reunion Allie had dreamed of so often, late at night in her bed, or in the hot stream of her shower. She’d be embarrassed by how often she’d thought of Beck, of him having her, just like this, again.
Her legs tightened around his waist as she held to his neck, and he moaned a little as he pressed himself, bulging and stiff, against her. Then he’d whirled her again, away from the wall and to the plush couch nearby. He laid her down easily, his blue eyes searching hers. He took one hand and pulled at the edge of her lacy underwear, tugging it down to her knees and then past her ankles.
Now was the time she should find the resolve to resist him. She should tell him no; she should tell him this was a mistake. What would sex do for them now? Show her all she’d been missing and break her heart all over again? But the distant thoughts felt far away, drowned out by the humming want in her body, all the nerve endings in her eagerly responding to Beck’s touch. The cool air of his condo hit her bareness and she shivered, even as she watched Beck tug down his shorts. He was freed then, heavy and hard, and she remembered how often she’d enjoyed him in that lodge, how often she’d wrapped her hands around him and made him moan. She did that now, an instinct, her hands flying to him, finding him heavy and thick and ready. He bit his lower lip as she worked him just the way he liked, from the base of his shaft to the tip. She loved that feeling of power. Yes, she thought, I know you. I know what you like. I know how to make you moan.
She thought of how he must’ve had other women since her, perhaps just this way, on this couch. She knew that he’d have other women after her, too. She couldn’t fool herself now. Beck was Beck. He wasn’t going to change for her. But she didn’t care. Not in this moment. Still, she hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” Beck asked, and she wanted to say “everything” and “nothing” all at the same time. Everything was wrong because everything felt right. It didn’t make sense, but then, nothing about them ever did.
Double Dare You Page 9
