Double Dare You

by Cara Lockwood

  Sitting in front of her blazing wood fireplace, with Beck lounging casually on her leather armchair, and Allie’s stomach full of thin-crust spinach-and-sausage pizza, she felt strangely content. Maybe she could just be fine with this, whatever this was. Beck glanced at her small Christmas tree, the one she’d set near her window overlooking the street. It was lit with white lights and she’d filled it with all-silver ornaments. Allie knew how Beck felt about Christmas, and suddenly wished the tree wasn’t there.

  “It’s pretty,” Beck said, nodding at the tree. “Where did you find that star?”

  “My father made it,” Allie said. “He likes to repurpose odd pieces of metal. It’s a hobby. He makes them for the church fair, and he sent me one. Of course, now he and Mom have a tradition of traveling on a church trip every Christmas. I think they’re building homes in Puerto Rico right now.”

  “Your father is much different than mine,” Beck said, shaking his head. “My dad didn’t even know when or where he was half the time.”

  “Are you up for talking about him?”

  Beck glanced at her, wary. “Maybe.”

  “How did he become an addict?” Allie asked.

  “Does it really matter?” Beck shrugged, and for a second she thought he’d do what he usually did when questions turned to his personal life and deflect. But then he met her gaze and seemed to reconsider. “My dad was a trick skier, before that was even a thing,” Beck said, staring at the flames in the fireplace as he seemed to sink into those distant memories. “He never medaled, since back in his prime they didn’t have medals for the things he did. Twists and flips down the mountain. He was my hero. I idolized that fool. It was no accident that I’m good at going fast.” Beck laughed at this a little. Shook his head. Allie heard real love in his voice. “But one day, he was just doing his normal thing. Jumping. Spinning. But he landed a trick wrong, that was all. A freak accident. He broke two vertebrae in his back. Several back surgeries and many prescriptions later, and he was suddenly selling off everything we owned to get his fix.”

  “That’s awful.” Allie tried to imagine Beck as a little boy, struggling to understand what was happening.

  “He cheated, too, on my mother. Slept around. Ran with women who had a supply of oxy, or who knew someone who did. He used his good looks and his charm there, too. He didn’t care much about my mother and me at home.” Beck frowned at the fire. “Mom eventually had enough of that and had an affair with someone she met at the grocery store, of all places. She divorced Dad, married this other guy and moved to Florida.”

  “Why didn’t she take you with her?”

  Beck glanced sharply at her, and Allie suddenly wished she hadn’t asked that question. She feared he’d clam up now, just when she was starting to truly understand him. Or at least have some understanding of what made him tick. “I was fourteen then and didn’t get along so well with the stepdad. I thought they were abandoning Dad, and I wasn’t going to do that to him.”

  “You were loyal. That’s admirable, Beck.”

  “Loyalty didn’t get me anything but a lot of headaches.” Beck shook his head. “I thought I could take care of Dad, but he was a mess.”

  “And you were basically just a kid yourself,” Allie pointed out. “It shouldn’t have fallen to you.”

  “There was no one else.” Beck made it sound like the thing he had to do. “I went out to visit Mom once in Tampa on Christmas.” He stared at the tree a beat, and Allie wondered if he were reliving the time. “It wasn’t a great visit. I hadn’t seen her in months, and I had a lot of anger.”

  “I don’t blame you. You were taking care of your dad and trying to be a kid all at the same time, and your mom left, so, I get it. You felt abandoned.”

  “Maybe I did. I didn’t think about it much.” Beck glanced at her. She wanted to lean over and hug away all the sadness in his life. “Still, I said some pretty rotten things to her. She didn’t deserve them.” Beck ran a hand over the blond stubble coating his chin. “When she told me I was too much like my dad, I couldn’t argue. And after that, I didn’t get Christmas invites to Tampa anymore.”

  Allie felt the heavy weight of that sadness, of a kid stuck between two parents who weren’t really parents at all.

  “No wonder you hate Christmas,” Allie said.

  Beck chuckled a little.

  “It just reminds me of the family I didn’t have. Won’t have.”

  “What makes you so sure you’re going to be like your father?”

  “My mother was right about me and him. There’s something unpredictable in him...and me. That’s what makes us able to do dangerous stunts on the mountain. You can’t put that away and settle down, really. It always burns there. My way of dealing with it is...not dealing with it.” Beck shrugged. “Plus, I know that with how fast I live, it’s really only a matter of time before I have a serious injury.”

  “You could quit all the extreme stuff.”

  Beck laughed. “I can’t quit. It’s in my blood.”

  Allie considered this. “Or you could see someone. A counselor.”

  “Nah.” Beck shook his head. “I don’t like to talk to you. Why would I be more comfortable with a stranger?”

  “We all have issues.”

  “Even you, raised by perfect accountants?” Firelight danced on his face.

  “Even me,” Allie said and laughed. “Hey, I had the opposite problem. I had helicopter parents who would wrap me in bubble wrap if they could.”

  “Probably explains why you can’t get enough of me,” Beck said. “I’m the bad boy you could never have.” Beck pushed himself away from his chair and joined her on the floor by the fireplace. His knee touched hers as he sat down beside her. He reached over and tickled her a little.

  She shrieked. “Hey! Stop it!”

  “I’m bad! I can’t stop it...”

  Allie fought his fingers as she dissolved in giggles. He tickled her mercilessly until she begged him to stop.

  “Fine, I’ll let you go,” Beck said, his strong fingers finally relenting. Her side hurt from laughing as she gulped in air. Being with Beck felt like the ground was always shifting—serious, white-hot sex, laughter, all in a flash. She liked it, the unpredictability. She was beginning to think she truly wasn’t the conservative, by-the-book woman she’d always thought she was.

  “Wait... I’m not done.” Beck lunged once more and Allie squealed as he tickled her again. She tried valiantly to fight him off, but he was too big and too strong, and soon he was right on top of her, chest to chest.

  “Beck! Stop!” She moved to defend herself, but he grabbed her wrist.

  “I will. I’m sorry.”

  “You should be.” Now they were eye to eye. Breathing heavy, their bodies pressed together. She fought the urge to kiss him. She glanced at his lips.

  “I’m sorry, Allie.” She realized that he wasn’t talking about the tickling anymore. He’d grown serious. Too serious. “I’m so sorry for being a jerk this last month. I...I owe you so many apologies. This time of year, starting with Thanksgiving on...just messes with my head. I make bad decisions, and... I’m sorry.”

  “Do you think sleeping with me was a bad decision? Be honest.” Allie steeled herself for his answer, fearing the worst.

  “No.” He rolled off her then. The cool air hit her chest, and she sat up, blinking. “No, I don’t regret that.”

  “Good. I don’t regret it, either.” The truth floating between them felt stark, but real. Steady. Grounded.

  “Look, I don’t know what’s happening here. Between us.” He looked at her, a long, steady gaze. “But I know it’s turned my world upside down.”

  Allie almost wanted to hold her breath. She put her hand on his shoulder. He grabbed that hand and held it.

  “I want to be with you. I want to laugh with you. I want to take care of you.” B
eck’s blue eyes clouded. “Even though you make that really hard sometimes.”

  Allie laughed. She did, she knew she did.

  “I don’t know what any of this means, but I think about you all the time. I think about you when I wake up, and when I’m skiing or giving tours to clients, or when I’m in the shower or when I go to sleep. You’re in my brain all the time like a fever, Allie, and no matter what I do, I can’t shake it. I don’t even want to shake it.”

  Allie could feel her pulse in her wrist and wondered if Beck could feel it, too.

  “I’ve been running scared since the lodge, Allie. I know that. I thought I was saving you somehow from me, but if I’m honest with you, I was just scared.”

  “Scared of what?” Allie felt confusion whirl in her brain as she tried to process everything Beck was saying.

  “Scared of losing you. Scared of hurting you. Scared of what I was going to become.” Beck ran a hand through his blond hair and sighed.

  “I was scared I’d already lost you,” she said. “When you didn’t call.”

  She saw pain cross his face and knew then that he’d known how much he hurt her. And that he regretted it.

  “I know. I’ve been a fool. Can you forgive me?” He searched her face for the answer she already felt in her heart.

  She nodded, suddenly unsure of her voice. Allie leaned in then and kissed Beck. Kissed him as if her life depended on it, because in some ways she thought it did. It felt terrifying to tell him the truth. Terrifying to lay herself bare like that. And then he kissed her back, kissed her hard, his tongue in her mouth, his lips on hers. His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, and she forgot about anything she might want to say next, or anything she might want to hear him say. In that moment, they didn’t need words. Their bodies spoke for them, as her lips parted and welcomed his tongue. The mere taste of him made her want more, it always did, but today, she felt a fearsome desire for him, a black hole of need that she finally acknowledged to herself.

  Beck leaned her down and the next thing she felt was the softness of her plush shag rug against her back and Beck’s delicious weight on top of her. His mouth was on hers, devouring her, and she consumed him right back. Her leg kicked out, and she hit the table with the small Christmas tree. An ornament flew off, hitting the ground with a plink. Beck pulled away to inspect the damage, but Allie put her hands on his face and pulled him back down to her mouth. She didn’t care about any ornament, didn’t care about the whole tree. All she wanted was Beck. Only Beck. All of him. He managed to pull away once more, his breath coming fast, his pupils so big his eyes looked dark with desire.

  “Al...” It was a question, so much uncertainty conveyed in a single word. But Allie didn’t want to think about what would come after. All she wanted was to climb into his skin, lose herself entirely in his body. She wanted him to fill her in every way possible, and she didn’t want to think about what it might mean later. She wanted to taste him again. Close her eyes and pretend everything was as it should be. She wanted to heal his scars, reach back into his past and show him that boy was loved. She wanted to make it all better. It was that simple, and the only way she knew how to do that was with her mouth and her hands and the rest of her body. He eased backward, and she sat up, whipping off her shirt. His eyes widened as they took in the black lace beneath. If she’d known Beck would be here tonight, she would’ve worn the garters he always loved so much. But the quirk of an appreciative smile on his face told her he liked the black lace she was wearing just fine. He dipped down and laid a trail of kisses down the round slope of her breast. She groaned, as he flicked the thin lacy fabric down and freed her nipple. He licked it, softly, playfully as she arched her back, wanting more of his mouth, and she could feel the heat of the fire on her bare skin. Her body felt as if it had turned into a molten river of lava, and the heat pooled between her legs. Beck expertly worked the clasp behind her bra, and then both breasts came free. He licked one pink nipple and then the other, as they rose to meet his command, his eyes never leaving her face.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured into her chest, and she groaned in response. “I want you. All of you.” She wanted him, too, more than she’d ever dare admit to him or herself. His mouth on her body felt so right, as if it was meant for her, had been all along. He dipped downward, tickling her belly with his nose as he moved ever south. He clasped the delicate lace of her waistband with his teeth and tugged downward, driving her near wild with anticipation. He moved slowly, deliberately, as if he meant to take his time, savor her, inch by inch. His hands pushed the soft fabric away, sliding it down her bottom and her legs, and then she was bare, completely vulnerable beneath him. He expertly spread her legs, and they quivered beneath his touch, his strong fingers pressed into her thighs. “I’m going to make you come,” he promised.

  It was a vow that she knew he’d keep, as he put his mouth on her, his warm, wet mouth finding all the nerve endings at her most delicate center. She came alive then, every pleasure circuit in her brain lighting up, like holiday lights on a tree. She squirmed, her legs spreading wider for him, her pelvis rising up to meet him, lick for lick, moving to his rhythm. He’d remembered everything she liked, the tempo, the pressure, the perfect places. He played her with his mouth, as if she were an instrument that responded instantly to his touch. She clutched the thick carpet beneath her hands and held on for dear life. The desire built in her, a flame he tended with his tongue that grew hotter with each stroke.

  “Beck,” she murmured, running her hands through his thick shock of blond hair, not quite believing he was between her knees, worshipping her. She wanted it to last forever, but her body had a different idea. “God, Beck.” She wouldn’t be able to stop what happened next if she tried. She was tumbling toward the cliff, unable to stop. And then she climaxed, everything falling away but Beck and his expert tongue. Her body went rigid, every muscle taut as the white-hot molten lava of pleasure ran through her whole body. She let out a shout, something guttural and primal that she couldn’t contain if she tried. Her muscles relaxed once more as she sank backward, her body feeling like it had lost all its bones. Her breath came hard, and her heart thumped in her chest.

  Beck kissed the inside of her thigh.

  “I love it when you come. You’re so beautiful,” he said. She had needed that. In fact, the last time she’d come like that...she’d been on Beck’s couch. She wondered if any man could make her come like Beck did: hard and fast, with the sudden, earth-shattering shock she felt through her whole body, the after tremors coming in waves. Beck was on the move, slinking up beside her on the floor as she lay, spent, wondering how she could ever want sex again after a climax like that. She rolled over to face him and then they were kissing as she snaked a hand behind his head and threw a leg over his side. She could taste herself on his tongue, and soon the desire began to rise again in her belly. She forgot how easily Beck could make her want more, how she seemed never to get enough of the man. He was all muscle and talented hands.

  She tugged at the waistband of his jeans, blinded with the need for more, and as he fell heavy and hard against her stomach, her white-hot want grew. He tossed his jeans aside, along with his wallet and his phone, not that he seemed to care.

  “Condom?” she asked, but he was already reaching for his wallet. He pulled a single condom out and in seconds had rolled it down his shaft, the firelight behind him as the wood cracked and popped in the hearth. Then she pushed him back down, his back on the rug now, and took control. She straddled him and slowly, ever so slowly, began to move, each millimeter a delight of new sensation, as he filled her in the way she’d longed to be filled these last two months. Firelight danced on his bare skin as he grabbed her hips and moved her himself, a little faster, a little deeper. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, the heat of the fire warm, as she lifted her hair to cool herself, both hands in her hair, her eyes on Beck. His gaze never left hers. He mov
ed his hands up her torso and then cupped her breasts, and she arched into his hands, eyes fluttering shut. Pleasure, building, beautiful pleasure, rolled through her body as she picked up the pace. He groaned and she opened her eyes once more, eager to see his need grow on his face. She missed that, the want in his eyes for her.

  “God, Al,” he groaned, his thrusts deeper now, more urgent.

  “Do you want me?” she asked, as she took him harder, her hips moving faster, grinding against his. She wanted to hear him beg, she realized. She wanted him to need her as much as she needed him.

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “How bad do you want me?” She suddenly broke contact, lifting her hips away from him, and he slipped free. He groaned, clutching at her, seemingly desperate to be inside her once more.

  “Bad, Al. I want you so bad.” She could see the need in his eyes, see the want. It fueled her, drove her. This was what she needed, his want. His need for her. She took her hand and wrapped it around him, working him with furious, long strokes. He threw his head back on the rug. “I want to be in you.”

  “Do you?” She teased him more with her hand, working him from root to tip.

  “Al...” His voice was a warning, as he suddenly flipped her over on the floor, and she lost her grip on him. He was inside her then, making her gasp with surprise, the shock of him, fully taking her, delicious. He wouldn’t be denied as he raked his chest against hers.

  “God, I love this body. You’re amazing.”