Tease Me

by Kaye Blue

  Dallas knew that too, which was why her words were so effective.

  “Kristian, you’re cutting out the middleman and giving me tools, so to speak,” she said, her smile bright in her eyes. “Once I’ve done the dirty deed, maybe picked up a thing or two from you about seduction, I’ll be ready to go out there and pursue what I want. And not feel like a total ass doing it.”

  Her reasoning was sound, but Dallas always had a gift for making the insane seem acceptable.

  “All persuasive arguments,” I said.

  “But?” she responded slowly.

  “What makes you think there’s a but? Suspicious for some reason, Dallas?” I asked, my lips twisting into a smile that was hard to avoid, especially when she gave me her most incredulous look.

  “Come on, Kristian. I know you. You’re doing that thing,” she said, a slight whine in her voice.

  “That thing?” I asked as I took another swig of water.

  “You know, that thing where you pretend to compliment me as you mentally prepare to decimate my argument,” she replied.

  “I didn’t realize that was a thing,” I said.

  “Well it is. It’s definitely a thing, and you’re doing it right now. Or planning to.”

  She was right, and I was surprised she had picked up on it.

  I shouldn’t have been.

  Back at the beginning when I’d first met her, I had made the mistake of assuming that Dallas’s outward flakiness meant she wasn’t focused, wasn’t sharp, but the years had proved me wrong.

  The woman didn’t miss anything.

  “You’re right,” I said.

  She looked at me, waiting, though she didn’t interrupt me, and didn’t even try to change my mind, at least not yet.

  “Go ahead,” she responded, her voice sounding resigned, though I knew not to assume that meant this was over.

  “I can’t,” I said, not sounding even remotely regretful.

  Dallas could hear that lack of regret in my voice, but she didn’t respond to it. Instead, she asked, “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  It was a simple question, delivered without any excess inflection or judgment. My gut told me she wasn’t simply seeking clarification, but the fact that I was uncertain only proved that I was making the right decision.

  “In this case, it’s the same thing,” I said quietly. But while I had been definitive in my words, inside I was anything but.

  Sleeping with Dallas was a horrible idea, and if she thought about it, I knew she would see that. But knowing that didn’t take away the sting that came from disappointing her.

  I reached across the wide countertop and tucked one of the strands of stray hair behind her ear. I’d done the same thing countless times before, but it felt different this time, yet another piece of evidence that backing away from this crazy idea was the right thing.

  “Well,” she said, “I’m not going to pressure you. But this isn’t going to change things between us, right?”

  She looked at me with those amber eyes, the brown that was several shades lighter than her skin giving them a look that was simultaneously predatory and angelic.

  “Of course not. You know the only reason I’m even hesitating is because you’re my best friend,” I said.

  She chuckled. “You can stop now. Pretty soon you’re going to get into it’s-not-you, it’s-me territory, and I think I’ve had enough rejection for one day,” she said, smiling good-naturedly.

  “You haven’t had any rejection. Just a little… ” I trailed off as I tried to come up with the right word.

  “Yeah,” Dallas said before I could continue.

  She looked herself, but I could see the shadow in her eyes and the hurt. I fucking hated that I had been the one to put it there, but I’d had no other choice.

  “Look, Dallas,” I said, desperate to do anything I could to take that hurt away.

  “Yes?” she responded, her tone not quite icy, but not warm either. We’d just reassured each other this conversation wouldn’t change anything, but something definitely had, and I needed to fix it, and fast.

  “I…” I started, stopped, then started again. “I…we…”

  “You’ve developed a stutter in the last two minutes?” she asked.

  At the very least, her teasing me was something familiar, and I silently thanked her for the lifeline. Dallas was letting me off way too easily, and I was grateful.

  She looked at me a moment, her expression unreadable, and then she smiled.

  “So tell me about the restaurant before I die of embarrassment.”

  “Gladly,” I replied.

  Two

  Dallas

  “This really isn’t necessary,” I said two hours later as I prepared to leave Kristian’s penthouse.

  “What’s not necessary is you and me having this conversation every single time you come over,” he responded as he began to put on his jacket.

  He pulled the heavy leather over his broad shoulders, the material hugging his biceps and chest like it had been made just for him. Of course, it probably had been. One of the many perks of being royalty, I guessed.

  As I looked at him, I also saw the weariness stamped all over his body, felt my heart soften in concern. Kristian might be a prince, but he was also a workaholic, and I could see the effect of his nonstop efforts.

  “Kristian, you’re dead on your feet, and you have to be at the market at the crack of dawn. Go to bed,” I said, my voice a mix of sternness and concern.

  He shook his head, his shoulder-length dark hair brushing his collar. Then he scraped a hand down his rough jaw, his day-old beard darkening his cheeks.

  “No. And besides, you think I could sleep while you walk almost twenty blocks alone in the dead of night?”

  “Believe it or not, I’ve walked almost twenty blocks, even further, alone in the dead of night before,” I said, lifting one brow.

  This was an old conversation, and I wasn’t convinced that Kristian actually believed I was capable of taking care of myself. Still, his worry over me, although completely unnecessary, felt nice, made me feel safe, cared for, not that I would ever admit that to him.

  “Whoever let you do that was shitty,” he said. Then he zipped up his jacket. “And I’m not shitty.”

  No, he wasn’t shitty, which was exactly why he was the perfect person to rid me of my virginity so I could get on with my life.

  What he was, though, was stubborn, and as I so often had, I searched for a way around that stubbornness.

  “You’re not going to concede this point, are you?” I asked.

  “What do you think?” he responded.

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head, then gave him a good-natured shove in the shoulder. His massive frame barely moved. And for a moment, I was stuck on that, thinking about how his pure physicality was a thing to behold.

  I remembered all those years ago when I had first glimpsed him.

  His back had been to me, but even in his youth, his broad shoulders had filled the space, the burly frame still waiting to fill out. He’d lost some of his youthful chubbiness and was larger now, cut out of pure muscle. Overwhelming and intimidating to some, but a place that reminded me far too much of home.

  “I think you’re ridiculous, but as much as I hate giving in to you, I don’t think it’s a good use of either of our time to argue. So how about a compromise,” I said.

  Even though he was tired, a bright smile broke across his face. “You know that word?” he asked.

  “Ha-ha,” I responded.

  It was the only answer that was appropriate, especially considering that stubbornness was a trait Kristian and I shared. Usually it was okay because very rarely were we at cross-purposes. But sometimes…

  “Anyway,” I said, choosing not to linger on that point, “you need to go to bed, and I need to get home, so just this once, why don’t you ask if one of your men is free to take me?”

  I paused then, waiting for his reaction.

  This was a touchy
subject, more so for me than him, at least in this context. I refused to take advantage of Kristian or his status, and hated to do anything that seemed like I was attempting to do so. At the same time, he hated to use that status too. He viewed it as something he hadn’t earned, and thus something he shouldn’t take advantage of.

  Except when it came to me.

  “Do you know that’s the smartest thing you’ve said to me in a very long time?” he said, flashing a little smile of triumph, though he covered it quickly.

  As second in line to the throne of the Mediterranean kingdom of Medina, Kristian had a full security detail that accompanied him everywhere.

  He’d resented it when we were younger and had often tried to rid himself of it. But doing so had been impossible. Between his father, and more importantly, his eldest brother, Leo’s prodding, he had given in and accepted the security detail, though he never liked it.

  “So you like that idea?” I asked.

  “No. If you would have just let me take you home, we’d be halfway there by now, but since you’re being insolent, this is an acceptable alternative,” he said.

  He unzipped his jacket, rehung it in the closet, his biceps and shoulders flexing as he moved, and then he grabbed his phone.

  “Dalton, can you prepare an escort for Dallas?” he said. He nodded. “We’ll be down in a moment.”

  After he hung up the phone, he turned to look at me, his expression suspicious. “Why are you letting them take you home?”

  I knew exactly why he was asking the question. He’d offered the same thing many times, had told me that he didn’t like the hours I kept at my studio and would be more comfortable if, on those late nights, I had protection.

  I’d always turned him down, sometimes forcefully, others playfully, but very seldom had I so completely acquiesced, so it was no surprise Kristian wondered why today was different.

  “Because you have a big couple of weeks coming up, and if making them successful means that I have to get carted around by the royal security detail, then it’s the least I can do,” I said.

  I hoped he heard the sincerity in my voice, and when he smiled softly, I knew that he had.

  “Thanks, Dallas,” he whispered, his own voice sincere. “Shall we go downstairs?”

  I nodded and punched in the code for the elevator. After the doors opened, we stepped inside and rode down the thirty floors in silence.

  What I had told him had been true, but, as with most things, not the entire truth.

  I didn’t like to take from Kristian, but even more, I’d felt compelled to do something to show him that things between us were still good.

  Though I had approached Kristian with bravado, I’d agonized over whether to ask that question, and when I’d finally gathered the nerve, I’d told myself that no matter what he said, nothing between us would change. Kristian was one of the only constants in my life, and I couldn’t risk losing him to try to gain something that might not happen anyway.

  Of course, I could have thought of that before I opened my big mouth, but with hindsight being twenty-twenty and all that, I was left with damage control.

  It was a small thing, me accepting this ride from him, but I knew it had deep meaning. At the very least, it was an olive branch, and I was certain Kristian would recognize it as such.

  When the elevator reached the garage, we stepped out and stopped in front of one of the dark SUVs that Kristian’s security detail used.

  “Get some rest,” I said, looking at him with one of my eyebrows raised.

  “I will. You too. And no studio time tonight,” he said.

  “No, I’m done for the night,” I said.

  Ever the gentleman, Kristian opened the SUV door and I got in.

  “Talk to you later, Dallas,” he said, sounding almost like usual, though I was certain I heard something else. I studied him for a moment, searching for something, but I just saw the Kristian I knew and trusted more than anyone.

  I wasn’t brave enough to look deeper.

  “Talk to you tomorrow,” I finally responded.

  He closed the door and then knocked twice on the roof.

  A few seconds later, the vehicle began to drive off, and I let myself relax against the backseat.

  It would be disingenuous of me to say that the luxury of the ride was one that I was accustomed to. Truth was, these little touches, the displays of his wealth and status that he took for granted, still threw me off sometimes.

  But, at least tonight, I wasn’t thinking about those.

  Instead my mind was turning over what I had just done, and whether or not I had risked something that was more valuable than anything else.

  I looked out of the dark tinted windows as we drove through a quieter, but still not quite quiet city. And as the streets slid by, I pondered what had happened today, and what it might mean for the future.

  To Kristian, what I’d asked probably made no sense, but it was very easy for me to pinpoint the exact moment I’d decided it would be worth risking my friendship to ask for Kristian’s help.

  Three weeks ago, I’d gone to Kristian’s brother Aaron and my friend Cree’s engagement dinner.

  The two, who had started out as bitter enemies and somehow managed to find unshakable love, had gotten to me.

  I was happy for both of them, ecstatic, really, but I also hadn’t been able to shake a deep sense of melancholy, a sadness that had started to spill over into every area of my life.

  I’d never admitted it, not even to myself, but I wanted what Cree and Aaron had, wanted to love someone, have someone love me back. But finding that had seemed impossible.

  It wasn’t looks, or at least not entirely looks. It wasn’t personality either. I’d met men that I found attractive, interesting, smart, but that…thing that would have taken it to the next level had always been missing. And it didn’t help that I was a delightful mix of coward and pessimist, too scared to try and certain that if I did, I’d fail anyway.

  So over the years, I’d resigned myself to living without love. For a time, that had seemed possible, maybe even preferable to risking my heart.

  But when I’d seen the look on Cree’s face when she talked about Aaron, seen the way Aaron looked at Cree when she wasn’t watching… Seeing the love, the connection between them had shaken me out of my complacency.

  I might pretend otherwise, might try to push my feelings down until they were quiet enough for me to ignore, but the truth was, I wanted a lover, wanted to be in love, to have someone to call my own, and I would no longer pretend that it would miraculously happen one day.

  Once I had accepted that, my mind, which always moved at hyperspeed, had gone into overdrive. The feeling was familiar, one that came over me when I was pursuing something, usually my latest piece. When that feeling struck, I was unable to ignore it, and the same was true this time.

  Of course, finding a life partner wasn’t quite as straightforward as making a sculpture. It would have been amazing if I’d been able to write “Find a lover” on the agenda and check it off, but that wasn’t in the cards. Still, the situation wasn’t entirely hopeless, and it was just that kind of thinking that had gotten me into this trouble.

  But even knowing all that, propositioning Kristian hadn’t been my first thought. A much more conventional approach was my first choice. I’d considered a makeover, but then dismissed the idea. Maybe I was lazy, but I knew myself well enough to know there was no way I was going to keep up a consistent makeup routine, or, God forbid, keep up with fashion or wear clothes that couldn’t stand up to a little—okay, a lot—of paint or plaster splatter.

  Besides, I didn’t want just anyone. I wanted someone who liked me—loved me—for who I was. Cliché perhaps, probably naive—definitely naive—but those were parameters I had set.

  Once I had established that, I racked my brain, searching for what to do next, but one small, unignorable fact kept tripping me up.

  Despite the fact that I was a couple of years past thirt
y, there was no shame in my virginity, or at least I didn’t feel any. No, it simply was a part of who I was, just like my height, my hair that refused to be tamed.

  But while I felt comfortable with that, I wasn’t so sure how others would take it.

  In fact, it was a variable that had frozen me in place.

  I thought about ways to work around it, how to handle what had potential to be an awkward conversation, whether that very status would slow me down, and had eventually decided that the best thing, the only thing really, to do was to remove it as a factor altogether.

  I’d been pleased with reaching that conclusion, and had paused for a moment, knowing that most people who thought of me as an empty-headed artist wouldn’t have found me capable of such calculation.

  In some ways, I wasn’t entirely sure I was capable of such calculation, but I’d decided this was the best thing to do.

  Which had led to the second part of the plan.

  When I had settled on the course of action, I’d been ecstatic, but reality had quickly come crashing in.

  If it were as simple as picking someone up, I would have done that years ago. But stupid me had to have trust, comfort, which took random strangers right out of the running.

  So what to do?

  I had worked that problem over in my head for a couple of days. The only solution would have been to find someone, get to know him, and then take things from there. But knowing myself like I did, I’d be a thousand years old before that actually worked. It took a long, long, time for me to trust, and I wasn’t willing to wait that long. So standard dating wasn’t really an option.

  And then one day, when I had been in the midst of a cleaning frenzy, something that only struck me when I was dealing with the most pressing of problems, a solution had come to me.

  I worked with a variety of mediums, but almost always found myself drawn to pen and paper, the seeming simplicity of it hiding a wealth of complexity something that had always appealed to me. And of all of my supplies, my most favorite, the most special, was a leather-bound folio with handmade pencils.

  The leather was baby soft, the graphite of the pencils was the best of the very best, and they had been a gift from Kristian, something he’d had handmade in Medina, a just-because gift.