Double Dare

by Jeanne St. James

  Before that very moment, she had never felt so alone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Quinn nervously smoothed a hand over her hip. She'd had to suffer through dealing with the highbrow saleswomen in four boutiques before finally settling on the dress she now wore. It was midcalf length, sleeveless, and white, decorated beautifully with sparkly sequins. And it fit very, very snugly, hugging all her curves and framing her cleavage perfectly. Her back was completely exposed, all the way down to just above her buttocks, where the silky fabric draped softly, barely hiding the top of her crease. A silver and rhinestone chain hung midway across her back. It bridged both sides of the dress, keeping it from separating and gaping enough to show her bare breasts.

  Just enough fabric covered her breasts; she went without any form of bra or support. The neckline—if it could be called that—went so low, she was surprised her navel wasn't exposed. Her breasts bounced firmly with every step she took in her four-inch heels. Even though she was in her thirties now, her breasts hadn't gone south yet, and she was proud of that. Her shoes were also white, with matching satin ribbon. They laced around her ankles and up her calves. The dress had a slit up the left side to midthigh, making her feel extraordinarily sexy.

  She decided to forgo the panties also, since any panty line would be noticeable with the tight fit. Going commando had never been her style, but she felt daring tonight. If not a little reckless.

  And very determined to make a point.

  A huge square-cut sapphire solitaire, handed down to her from her late grandmother, hung heavily between her breasts on a platinum chain. Two more sapphires dripped from her ears. A twenty-thousand-dollar tennis bracelet sparkled on her right wrist—a present from her father when she graduated college summa cum laude.

  She was dressed to kill.

  And she didn't look anything like she had in that ugly bridesmaid dress the night she had met Logan. It had only been a few weeks ago, but it felt like months.

  She wasn't going to dwell on the fact that she was just as alone tonight as she had been on that night. Even though a lot had happened since then, everything seemed to be back to where it was. No one was going to change that but herself. It was time to take control of her own life. To do what she wanted, not what everyone else wanted just because it was expected of her.

  Maybe the boys thought that was selfish. Maybe it was.

  She pushed the what-ifs and possible future regrets out of her mind. She couldn't worry about them right now…

  She pasted on a sexy smile and put an extra oomph into the swing in her hips as she came around her Infiniti. She plucked the ticket out of the valet's fingers and shoved it into her clutch. The poor young valet continued to stand there and stare at her, his mouth gaping. Well, he wasn't staring at her. He was staring at her breasts. She was beginning to think he could see the pink of her nipples through the dress, when he finally snapped into motion, wiping a bit of spit from the corner of his mouth.

  Quinn laughed as he scrambled around her car. This was the exact effect she was striving for.

  The dress was worth the week's salary she had paid for it.

  She snapped her clutch closed and walked through the double doors of the country club.

  Her ears were immediately assaulted by the din of the banquet room, which was directly across from the country club's main entrance. Monte Carlo nights seemed to be loud and boisterous as participants got caught up with the games.

  She paused at the double doors to the room where the charity event was being held, and surveyed the crowd. She relaxed a little when she didn't spot Peter. It gave her a little time to deal with her parents first. She was sure her mother wouldn't be pleased with what she was wearing.

  And that had been another selling point for this particular dress.

  She startled when a hand grasped her elbow firmly from behind. Quinn was dragged backward, farther away from the event, and she struggled to keep upright. She dug her heels in and turned to meet her mother's displeased expression.

  “You look like a whore.”

  Quinn sharply pulled her sore elbow out of her mother's grasp. A bruise would not make a nice accessory. “An expensive one, I hope. I was going for the Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman type of look. Did I succeed?”

  “Do you think this is funny?” her mother asked, her eyebrows pinned and lips tightly pressed together in displeasure.

  “Look, Mother. You want to sell me off to the highest bidder. I might as well dress the part.”

  Her mother hissed at her. “This is a charity event. Not a sex-slave auction.”

  Quinn lifted a bare shoulder lazily in a half shrug, trying to appear much calmer than she was. She gave her best attempt to drum up the newfound confidence the boys had given her. At least until she noticed her father quickly striding toward them. His face didn't hold the displeasure her mother's did, but more of a shock and disappointment.

  Quinn suddenly had the urge to run and hide. She loved her father and did not want to hurt him. But hell, she hadn't asked for any of this. She couldn't forget that. And she had come this far, did she really want to back out now?

  As he approached, her father stripped off his tuxedo jacket and extended it to her. “Put this on.”

  Quinn shook her head and backed up a step, careful not to catch her narrow heel on the rug. “No.”

  “You can't go in there looking like that. You look like a…a…”

  “Yes, I know. Mother's already said.”

  “You need to go home and change.” Her father looked annoyed, ready to ground her for a week and take away her phone privileges.

  She was an adult, damn it!

  “No, Dad. I've spent a fortune on this dress, and I will wear it.”

  Her mother stepped a hairbreadth away from her and pointed a red-lacquered fingertip into her face. “We'll remove you from the list of auctionees.”

  As if that would punish Quinn.

  “No, you won't. You will reap what you have sowed. This money is going toward a good charity. You can't let the charity suffer due to your uptight attitude.”

  “This is not about being uptight. This is about how it looks—” Her mother stopped abruptly.

  “How it looks to your friends and peers,” Quinn finished for her. Anything to keep up appearances.

  “Do you think Peter is going to be happy when he sees you dressed like that?”

  If he were normal, he'd be hard when he saw her. But then, Peter wasn't normal.

  Did she say that out loud?

  No. Phew. She needed to get away from them before she said something she shouldn't. As if she hadn't already.

  Her father's disappointed and almost-hurt expression sent a sharp pain through her chest. Maybe she should leave and forget the whole thing… Maybe the boys were right.

  She moved away from her parents as fast as her high heels would take her. She answered over her shoulder, “I don't care if Peter is happy.” She'd make her decision whether to leave or to stay once she returned to the lobby.

  “Well, you should!”

  Her mother's comment brought Quinn up short. She spun to face her parents. “Why? When was Peter ever concerned if I was happy?”

  If it had been funny, she would have laughed at her parents' stunned expressions. Her mother was actually speechless for a split second… Imagine that!

  “That's what I thought,” Quinn said before continuing her escape.

  “Peter loves you,” her mother yelled to Quinn's back as she strode away.

  Quinn just shook her head in disgust. Peter was a cheating bastard, but her mother still thought he was perfect. Hell, she didn't have to wait until the lobby to make up her mind. After tonight, there would be no doubt in her mother's mind—in Peter's mind—that Quinn wanted nothing more to do with him. She deserved better.

  When she got to the banquet room, she took a deep, bolstering breath and sauntered into the crowded room and right up to the bar.

  * * *

&n
bsp; It was déjà vu for Logan. When he had first spotted Quinn weeks ago at the reception, she had been tying one on at the bar. Tonight she was doing the same thing, only this time she wasn't wearing that ugly pink monstrosity. She was wearing some sleek number that made him as hard as hell.

  And he was sure it made every other man in the room as hard as hell too. Well, except maybe her father, who he supposed was somewhere in the crowd.

  While that bridesmaid's dress had done nothing to show off her attributes, this one did everything to show them off. It actually showed off too much.

  But he wasn't complaining. No, sir. All he could think about was stripping the little covering she was wearing off later tonight. If she forgave them. He hoped them showing up tonight was enough. If not, he might be tempted to beg.

  His lips twitched with amusement at that thought.

  At least until he heard, “Mr. Reed! Mr. Reed!”

  Every muscle tensed in his body as he heard footsteps rushing toward him.

  He turned to face the squat little man who was the general manager of the Mandolin Bay Country Club.

  He lifted one eyebrow. “Mr. Lawson?”

  “Yes, yes. I saw your helper dropping you off at the front door. The head groundskeeper is not here right now, but he needs to speak to you regarding an issue with the sod.”

  “My helper was just parking the car. He should be in here momentarily.”

  “Then I'm glad I caught you. Again, the head groundskeeper has been meaning to meet with you. He is down at the maintenance shed.”

  Logan crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the man. Was he kidding?

  “Do I look like I'm dressed to work on the greens?”

  The man's mouth opened and closed like a gasping fish as he finally noticed Logan's attire. Which just happened to be a tuxedo, not coveralls.

  After a moment, Lawson sputtered, “Why, no.”

  “I'm here for the House to Home Charity.”

  Lawson had the gall to step in front of Logan, blocking his way. He put out a chubby hand, as if that could stop Logan from entering. “Sir, it's by invitation only.”

  “I've been invited,” Logan growled. His patience was wearing thin.

  “By whom?”

  “Quinn Preston.”

  “But Ms. Preston…” Lawson stopped.

  “Yes? Ms. Preston?”

  His gaze shot back and forth as if he was trying to avoid making eye contact with Logan. “Uh. Ms. Preston has a date.”

  “Yeah? Who?”

  “I…I… Peter Harrington.”

  “Oh. Well, I brought my own date.” Logan glanced behind him to see Ty approaching. His “date” looked very handsome in his tux. “Here he is now.” Logan slipped an arm through Ty's and gave him a quick kiss.

  Lawson turned a sickly shade of pale, and his eyes widened to large circles as he stumbled away from the two of them.

  Jeez. You would have thought he and Ty were lepers the way the manager acted.

  “Was that smart?” Ty asked as Logan led him into the event.

  “Probably not.”

  Logan felt a twinge of regret at shocking the man. He didn't want his actions to jeopardize his contract with the club. He'd had it for years, and it brought in a nice chunk of change.

  Well, if needed, he'd do damage control later.

  Right now he had something more important to deal with.

  A group of men gathered around Quinn. Three untouched drinks sat on the bar in front of her as she sipped the one already in her fingers.

  “Alabama slammers?”

  A quick outtake of breath escaped her gaping mouth before she quickly schooled her expression. Logan was impressed how rapidly she recovered from her shock at seeing the both of them there. But he could still see the question in her eyes.

  Her lips turned up at the corners. “No. Tonight's a perfect night for Long Island iced teas. Not quite as potent as slammers, but they will do the trick.”

  He handed one of the extra drinks to Ty and picked one up for himself. He took a long swig. A little too sweet for his taste, but not bad.

  “Hey,” yelled one of the men crowding against Quinn. “The drink was bought for the lady.”

  Logan looked Quinn up and down and bit back a snort of laughter. Lady. Quinn hardly looked like a lady tonight. She looked like a vixen. A sex kitten who knew how to bring a man to his knees.

  She had effectively brought both him and Ty to their knees. Their showing up tonight proved it. Not that either were complaining.

  Her hair was pulled up, exposing the long line of her neck. A few stray tendrils framed her face delicately. The sapphires at her ears brought out a tinge of blue in her gray eyes. Those eyes that currently held a glint of evil.

  She gave him a wicked smile and slipped her left leg out of the slit in her dress, showing off a very shapely thigh. “You like?”

  “Very much.” He glanced at Ty, whose gaze was glued to Quinn's leg.

  She shifted her leg out of the slit a little more, and Logan saw she wore no panties. He stepped a little closer to her to block the view from the other men.

  Not pleased at her display, he leaned in close, murmuring into her ear, “What are you doing?”

  “I thought you guys weren't coming,” she murmured back.

  “I'll explain later,” he grumbled. He didn't mind her dressing sexy, but she was wearing the dress for the wrong reasons.

  One of the wrong reasons just happened to saunter up at that moment.

  Quinn quickly pulled her leg back, once again hiding herself before turning to her ex. “Peter! How are you?”

  Logan winced at Quinn's overly sweet, obviously exaggerated speech.

  When Peter stepped up, the rest of the men melted away. It was as if Peter had come to claim his prize, and they were gracious enough to recognize it.

  Bullshit. Logan wasn't leaving her alone with him.

  Quinn put a newly manicured hand on Peter's upper arm and pulled him closer. “Peter, I want you to meet some friends of mine. Peter Harrington, this is Logan Reed and Tyson White.”

  The shit extended his hand, and Logan was polite enough to accept it. When Peter shook Ty's hand, a look of recognition crossed Peter's face. “Tyson White? As in Tyson 'T-Bone' White of the Boston Bulldogs?”

  Don't tell me the little geek bastard knows football, Logan thought. He probably takes part in office football pools. And loses his ass.

  “That's me,” Ty answered, twirling the tiny straw in his drink. He was acting as if being recognized as a famous athlete was nothing.

  Logan's cock twitched. Quinn in her outfit wasn't the only thing flipping his switch. His dark lover, whose ebony skin shone under the club's recessed lighting, made his gut do a little flip.

  “Amazing. I didn't realize Quinn's mother had arranged for two Bulldog stars to be here tonight.”

  Both Logan and Ty opened their mouths simultaneously to question Peter, but Quinn held up a hand, stopping them both.

  “Two?”

  “Yes, Long Arm Landis is here.”

  “Long Arm?” Quinn asked, her delicate eyebrows pinching together.

  Both she and Logan looked at Ty questioningly.

  “Quarterback,” he answered them and sipped his drink.

  Logan shook his head. “I know who Long Arm is. Why would he be here?”

  And why wasn't Ty concerned about his former teammate finding out Ty was in a relationship with a man? Not that Logan believed Ty wanted to keep it a secret. At least, if he did, he wouldn't have agreed to come here.

  Logan figured tonight was a night for discoveries. When they had decided to come show Quinn their support, to prove to her how much they cared, they knew this was the risk.

  But shit—

  Like it or not, Ty most likely would end up being outed, and if Quinn had her way, so would she. But Ty's outing would be to a former teammate, something he'd managed to avoid all these years. They had both decided being with Quinn
tonight was worth the risk to themselves. Even so, Ty still had a chance to back out from this possible debacle; Logan would respect any decision he made.

  Seemingly unconcerned, Ty looked at Quinn expectantly. “I don't know. Why would he be here?”

  Quinn gave a slight shrug and sipped her own drink.

  “The Society Ladies' Charity Club did want to bring in some celebs to sell off some signed memorabilia. Maybe it's that, or he's part of the bachelor/bachelorette auction,” the dweeb answered.

  Unexpectedly, Quinn's ex turned his attention to her. Her dress seemed to suddenly draw Peter's attention more than the prospect of having two NFL stars in the room.

  “Is that dress new?”

  Quinn smiled into her drink. “You don't remember it?”

  “I think I would remember a dress like that. Doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it?”

  She tossed her head back, her breasts jiggling enough with the movement that they almost escaped the narrow strips of white fabric that barely contained them. “It's not meant to. It's supposed to show off my attributes.”

  Peter cupped the large sapphire nestled between her breasts. “Is this your grandmother's stone?”

  Logan felt Ty tense beside him. He gave Ty a look that said Quinn could handle herself.

  Though he wasn't sure he liked the way she was doing it. Especially when she trapped Peter's hand with hers and pressed his knuckles against the bare curves of her breasts. Her voice got low and smoky. “Familiar, is it?”

  “Uh.” Peter yanked his hand away as if he had been burned. “Yes, I thought it looked familiar.”

  Logan couldn't believe it. Her ex actually looked uncomfortable, embarrassed that his hand had brushed against Quinn's breasts.

  Logan barked out laughter, making the blood rush to Peter's face.

  Peter stepped back and stared at Logan for a moment before appearing to gather some confidence.

  Logan'd had enough. He slid an arm around Quinn until his hand splayed on the warm skin of her lower back. He picked up the square vibrant blue stone and pretended to study it. “It's a beautiful gem.” He met her gaze as he laid it gently against the delicate skin between her breasts, his fingers lingering against her soft cleavage. “Just like the woman wearing it.”