Dare To Love Series: Hot Dare (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Avery Flynn

  “To the Thunder.” The fan sitting to his left clinked his beer against Colt’s water bottle. “So let me ask you, man…”

  Colt tried to concentrate on what the guy wearing Darius’s old number was saying, but Angie turned around at that moment and their eyes met. That’s how everything had started in Vegas. A look across the room backstage at the awards show. After that, he’d done everything he could to stay within her line of sight until she finally gave in and came over to ask him what was up. One thing had led to another and they’d ended up back at his hotel room for a night of hot, sweaty sex so good, he’d remember it on his deathbed. Then she’d snuck out while he was in the shower and, after explaining she didn’t date football players, had blocked his number. No one had ever done that to him before and it tweaked his competitive nature.

  “So what do you think?” the man on his left asked.

  Colt froze. Damn. His palms turned clammy. He was fast on the field but not so much in social situations.

  “I think you’re nuts.” Mystie pulled out a chair in a huff and flopped down next to the man. “LeRoi had a great season, but he’s nowhere near ready to take Colt’s place—not that anyone could.”

  The man’s jowls jiggled and his face turned a deep red. “That’s not what I asked,” he sputtered.

  His number one fan and apparent protector jabbed a sharp nail into the man’s chest. “It may not be the words you used, but it was what you were asking and it’s not appreciated.”

  They stared at each other like dogs facing off over a meaty bone, and the intuition that gave Colt a split second heads-up about how a play was going to break went on alert.

  “As my granny would say, simmer down here.” Colt covered Mystie’s hand with his and lowered it to the table before the other man’s head popped off. “LeRoi is a helluva player, but I’m not going anywhere for a long time if I have anything to say about it.”

  “No offense,” the man said. “But your injury—”

  “Is all healed up.” Relieved the discussion about his future had killed his boner, Colt stood up and put his full weight on his right leg. His ankle didn’t even ache. “The doc cleared me just this week. I’m hitting the gym and getting ready for training camp as soon as we get back to Miami.”

  Before anyone could say anything else, the team’s unofficial theme song started to play and every fan at the tables stood, raised their glasses and sang along. He looked across the deck, gaze stopping as soon as he spotted Angie. He didn’t mean to look for her, but somehow every time he looked up from the table, he found himself searching the crowd until he spotted her long, thick brown hair.

  She pointed at him then made the okay sign with her hands. Figuring she wasn’t asking about his mental abilities, which seemed to go haywire when he was around her, he nodded. She gave him a thumbs-up and started to weave her way through the crowd toward his table.

  The song ended and Mystie leaned in close. “You let me know if you need me to give anyone another talking to.”

  She had the whole manic pixie girl vibe going on, but her obvious enthusiasm was starting to win him over.

  He gave her a high five. “Will do.”

  “You know, you’re a pretty alright guy, no matter what the forums say.” She started waving. “Hey, Angie! Over here.”

  “Forums?” His gut pinched. He didn’t need to know what they were saying, he had a pretty damn good idea and he fucking hated it.

  “Yeah, the idiots on the Thunder Board are saying that LeRoi should keep the starting job next season.” She rolled her eyes. “Morons.”

  Angie finally made it over right as a redhead with a predatory gleam in her eyes sidled up next to him, dragging her brunette friend along. The redhead was that certain type of hot with a razor-sharp hardness that reminded him of the talk Coach Carter had given all the rookies the season he joined the Thunder. Once a player signed that big-money contract, they turned into prey for people who cared more about the zeroes on their paycheck than them.

  Ignoring everyone else around them, the woman trailed her nail down his chest and licked her plump lips. “You looking for company tonight, handsome?”

  The first time a woman had approached him like this, his ego and dick had led the way, but he’d learned.

  “Sorry, ladies.” Colt reached out and wrapped an arm around the middle of Angie’s hourglass body and pulled her so close, not a single sliver of moonlight could make its way between them. “I’m taken.”

  “Really?” The redhead arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms, giving Angie a critical up and down look. “I thought she was your assistant.”

  A mental image of all the things Angie could assist him with rolled through his mind like a porn highlight reel, and he shifted his stance to ease the sweet agony of his cock pressing against his zipper. “She’s a lot more than that.”

  The brunette sighed and glanced up at Colt through her eyelashes. “You’re so lucky to have a man like him.”

  Angie wiggled out of his grasp, shooting him a dirty look over her shoulder as she took a step away. “I’m not—”

  Colt spun her around so she faced him and kissed her before the truth could escape her lips. He’d just meant for it to be a brief brush against her lips to persuade the groupies to back off. But as soon as he tasted the cherry flavor of the ChapStick on her pink lips, there was no turning back. He deepened the kiss, teasing the seam of her mouth and tempting her to open and let him in. With a quiet moan, she opened her mouth and he swept his tongue inside. The memory of how sweet she tasted was nothing compared to the reality.

  He tugged her closer until his hard cock pressed against her belly. That’s what she did to him—every damn time he thought about her, and he’d done that plenty since that night. He’d never been a monk or a particularly monogamous man, but he’d known the moment he saw her that she was different.

  The kiss may have started as a play for escape, but by the time he ended it and the world came into focus bit by bit, he’d formed a different game plan—one that involved her naked and spread out before him on his bed’s crisp white sheets.

  People around them whistled and clapped. A few voices called out “go girl” while a few others shouted “lucky son of a bitch”, and for once he didn’t care about an entire crowd of people all focusing on him. There wasn’t enough room left in his head with all the dirty ideas kissing her had inspired.

  Angie blinked several times, her gaze fuzzy and her kiss-swollen lips even more tempting than before. He could tell the moment the clapping around them registered because all the satisfied sex kitten faded from her gaze, replaced by what looked disturbingly like horror.

  She grabbed his hand and dragged him to a deserted cocktail table. “Being your kissing cover isn’t part of the deal, Colt,” she said in a harsh whisper.

  “And you think that’s why I kissed you? Because of the thirsty groupies?” It wasn’t the right thing to say; he knew it as soon as her toe connected with his shin. Hard. For a small woman, she could inflict some damage.

  “We both know it is.”

  “No, honey.” He tucked her silky hair behind her ear and leaned down, close enough to that the temptation to suck on the lobe was too much to resist, so he didn’t. Her responding shiver only encouraged him and he snuck a quick kiss to the spot right behind her ear before stepping back out of kicking distance. “That’s what you’re trying to convince yourself it was.”

  He winked and disappeared into the crowd before she could respond. He had all night to map out his playbook. Tomorrow, the real game began.

  Chapter Three

  Several hours and more than a few beers with the boys later, Colt reached into his wallet for one of the two keycards he’d gotten when he’d boarded. There was only one in there. Those retired assholes were fucking with him as if it were training camp all over again. If he walked in and found all his shit covered in Silly String, he was going to kick their hairy asses.

  He unlocked his door, he
ld it open with one hand in case he needed to make a quick getaway and flipped on the light.

  There wasn’t any Silly String sprayed everywhere or frogs leaving slime trails as they hopped around the room or buckets of chicken wings spicy enough to make his eyes water with each inhale.

  Instead, two naked women were cuddled up together in the middle of the king-size bed. He recognized the redhead and brunette from the Thunder Dome Crew event earlier.

  “Hey there, handsome.” The redhead sat up and the sheet fell to her waist. “Did you lose your girlfriend or will she want to join us?”

  “Don’t worry if she doesn’t.” The brunette leaned forward from her position in the back and toyed with the redhead’s long hair. “We’ll keep you company.”

  A few years ago, he would be halfway to the bed and totally naked before the door slammed shut behind him, but those days were long gone. Shit. You are getting old, Butler.

  He let the door swing shut behind him, but didn’t make a move from his spot a good ten feet from the bed. This wasn’t the first time he’d walked into his room on the road and found someone waiting for him. The groupies bribed hotel staff, sweet-talked the security or whatever else it took to get in. Most of them just wanted to say they’d fucked a player. The rest were either mentally unstable or hoping to find a husband or baby daddy. Colt sure as hell wasn’t taking another step into the room until he knew which kind of crazy he was dealing with.

  “How’d you get in here?” Not that he didn’t have a pretty good idea. The guys thought they were so damn funny.

  The redhead slid his missing keycard off the bedside table and trailed it across her large tits. “Your friends gave us your key.”

  “They shouldn’t have done that.” He was going to kill them tomorrow.

  The redhead curled a finger, motioning him over, and pivoted so she faced him as she sat on the bed. The sheet slipped to the floor, revealing miles of creamy legs and proving she came by her hair color naturally. “Why don’t you come over here and let us convince you otherwise?”

  Following suit, the brunette spooned her friend from behind and pressed her ample tits to the redhead’s back. “Yes, we’re very convincing.” She cupped one of her friend’s tits and pinched the nipple, sliding the fingers of her other hand through the tight red curls at the apex of her friend’s thighs.

  The redhead’s responding moan sounded more practiced than passionate.

  He could call security. They’d take care of this mess. If he was lucky, no one would be awake to poke their heads out of their rooms to catch and film two naked women being hauled out of his room at one in the morning—but he couldn’t guarantee that. The Miami media would love it. The Thunder front office would be pissed. Manny would kill him if he came back from this cruise—that was supposed to help set him up as the contender to become the Thunder’s beloved franchise player—as just another debauched football stud.

  Then he pictured Angie. Smart and ambitious, she’d told him she had a promotion riding on this cruise. He wouldn’t fuck that up for her. He wanted to screw her, not screw her over.

  “While that is an offer I hate to turn down…” Colt grabbed the duffel he’d yet to unpack. It was the only thing of his in the room. “I just came in to grab this. Y’all get dressed and let yourselves out.”

  In a heartbeat they went from sultry sirens with heavy-lidded bedroom eyes and wet, willing bodies to scorned women ridged with annoyance.

  “You’ll regret missing out on this,” the redhead said. She must have known it was too late, though, because the words were no more out of her mouth before she whipped the sheet across her displayed flesh.

  “I’m sure I will.” The younger version of him sure as hell would have, but the thirty-year-old him looked at that bed and saw two women who didn’t care much about who he was as much as what he was, and Colt was pretty much over that rookie bullshit.

  He shut the door behind him and hustled to the elevators, grateful that no one came down the hall or emerged from their rooms.

  Shit. What’s your play now, Butler?

  All the old players had split from the bar at the same time as he had. He didn’t have any of their numbers and no clue what rooms they were in. The only thing he had was—

  The idea hit him with the same no-holds-barred force he used to sack quarterbacks. She would be pissed, but she was already mad at him. He could spin this—use a little play action fake to make her think it was the only option to keep anyone from smelling scandal. It wasn’t as if that was a lie. Maybe a slight exaggeration, but as his granny said, sometimes the truth needed elastic-waistband pants.

  She liked him. She wanted him. They just needed a little time alone for him to convince her of it, and he knew just how to do it—by playing it so cool she got all hot.

  Sitting on the middle of the bed in her cramped room, Angie looked at the paperwork spread out in a semi-circle around her and glanced at the clock on the side table. One in the morning. Okay, that was enough work for tonight.

  She flipped her laptop closed right as a knock sounded at her door. No good news came at this time of night.

  She hustled to the door and looked out the peephole. “Who is it?”

  “Colt.” He stood on the other side of the door without an ounce of visual shame at making an unsolicited booty call. He had the lazy ease of a man who’d just enjoyed a couple of brews with the boys. Football players; they were eternally mentally twenty-three.

  She cracked the door but left the chain on. “Go to bed.”

  “Just let me in,” he whispered.

  During the daylight hours his deep voice only held a trace of his Alabama roots, but now, after he’d probably had a few and was tired, his Southern accent came out stronger. It was like warm honey and it gave her ideas she didn’t need—couldn’t afford—to be having, no matter how much her body liked the idea.

  Glad the door blocked him from being able to see how hard her nipples had gotten just at the sound of his voice, she took in a deep breath. Time to end this conversation and send Mr. Tall, Blond and Tempting home to bed.

  “I’m not one of your groupies.”

  He snorted and managed to make even that sexy. “I know. I just left two of them in my bed.”

  “What the hell?” What a douchebag. He was looking for thirds and he came to her? All the warm and fuzzy he inspired turned to heat and sharp edges.

  “The guys thought it would be funny to give them my extra key.” He held up his hands as if to distance himself from the other players’ idiocy. “I walked in, saw the setup, grabbed my bag and got the hell out of there.”

  “And you want a medal?” She started to shut the door, but he blocked the move by sliding his hand through the small opening the chain allowed.

  “I need a place to crash,” he pleaded.

  “Oh no.” An angry heat flamed her cheeks. The ego on this one. Did every woman in the world fall for his shit? Sure, there had been Vegas, but that was a one-time thing. She didn’t do seconds on dumb decisions.

  “Come on, Angie. You’re the best option.”

  “Call security if you can’t get rid of your ball bunnies on your own.”

  “And wake up everyone on my floor with the ruckus? I’m sure Mr. Dare would love having some fan’s grainy video or cellphone photo as the lead art in the Miami Herald this weekend. I can see the headline now: Thunder Hosts Boozy Love Cruise.”

  “Shit.” She could kiss her chance at the special events coordinator job goodbye if that happened.

  “Come on, Angie, you’re my only hope.”

  One night. In the morning, they’d get everything straightened out and he’d be out of her hair. She could put her mutinous body on lockdown for one night.

  “Whatever, Princess Leia, move your hand so I can unlock the chain.” After he did, she shut the door and slipped the chain free before opening it fully. She gave him a once over, lingering a little too long on the bulge behind his zipper. She jerked her gaze up befor
e he caught her looking. “What about your stuff that you left in the room?”

  He held up the duffel. “I’m a dude, this is all there is.”

  Stepping to the side, she held the door all the way open. “This is just for tonight. Tomorrow we get the staff to change your lock or find you a new room or whatever needs to happen.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He walked in, his large frame taking up most of the narrow area leading to the room. He made it two strides in and stopped dead. “Where’s the rest of your room?”

  “This is it.” Unlike his cabin, her’s was one of the regular rooms, which were all notoriously small.

  He dropped his duffel and nudged it with his heel over to the side. “So we’re sharing the bed?”

  She looked around. There wasn’t any other furniture besides the bed, dresser and a TV mounted on the wall. The little floor space available in the cabin was taken up by boxes of fan prizes and other event items. What had she been thinking? There was no way…

  “This isn’t going to work.” She reached for the phone to call whoever could find him a room ASAP.

  “Look, you’re doing me a solid here. I’m not going to push my luck.”

  Eyeballing him as her hand hovered over the receiver, she considered her options. Not even Mr. Dare could fault her for not wanting to share her bed with Colt, but she knew he was harmless to everything except her libido.

  “You stay on your side or I’ll make you think Boom Boom’s cheap shot that broke your ankle was a love tap.” As far as hollow threats went, she was surprised her voice didn’t echo, but it was better than letting him think she was looking for Vegas part two.