Jean-Paul groaned. “Aden!”
“Well?” Aden asked.
“Last night.” Nikki giggled.
“Two o’clock this afternoon.” Lysander said and Mollie could feel him staring at her. She’d left his studio just before two.
“This morning,” Aden and Jean-Paul said at the same time and chuckled.
Now everyone was looking at her. “Dare,” Mollie said, her heart pounding, and wondered why she couldn’t bring herself to answer that.
Aden tsked. “Spend the next round sitting face forward on Lysander’s lap.”
Shit. Mollie pushed to her feet and stepped in front of him. Lysander pulled her down, wrapped his arms around her and tugged her until she was pressed against his chest. She took a breath and felt his cock harden.
“Did I just do that?” she asked.
He laughed. “Yeah, stop breathing.”
“What did she do?” Nikki snapped.
“Is that your question?” Lysander asked.
“No. How did you lose your virginity and how old were you?” Nikki asked.
“I was twelve,” Lysander said. “And it was with my French teacher.”
“Male or female?” Nikki asked.
“Male.” Lysander rubbed his thumbs over Mollie’s butt and the breath caught in her throat.
He smelled of oranges and…paint. His dark blue eyes were fixed on her and she couldn’t look away. He moved so that his cock rubbed against her belly and her brain fell to pieces.
“Christ, that’s young,” Aden said. “I was fifteen. On a geography field trip with Stephen Jenkins. We got lost and were trying to keep warm. Though we got lost because I deliberately took the wrong path, and I forgot my sweater. I came up with the idea of sharing body heat then we shared a bit more than that.”
Jean-Paul laughed. “I was fifteen too. He was a friend of my brother’s. Met me after school and offered to show me his fluffy rabbits. And he really did have fluffy rabbits but that wasn’t what he wanted to show me.”
“I was sixteen,” Nikki said. “In Paris with my French pen friend. I’d written to him for two months thinking he was a girl. His name was Aimé. Nice surprise when we met.”
Mollie hesitated and knew in hesitating she’d made a mistake. She could have just lied, said virtually anything, but because she’d paused, it made it look like she was going to lie. Shit.
“Dare,” she said, thinking it would at least take her off Lysander’s lap.
“Maybe we ought to limit the number of dares,” Lysander said. “You can only have two. Still want to pass?”
She nodded.
“The dares have to get harder,” Aden said.
Nikki smiled. “Okay. Submerge yourself in the reservoir.”
Mollie tensed and knew that Lysander had noticed. How could he not? She was plastered against him.
“What? Now?” she asked.
“Yep,” said Nikki. “It’s not dark yet.”
Don’t want to do it, don’t want to do it. She climbed off Lysander’s lap. Why hadn’t she lied? She could have told them she was seventeen, and she’d lost her virginity in a field. They’d have believed her.
“Chickening out?” Nikki asked.
“She doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to,” Lysander said.
Before Mollie could come up with a way to get out of it that didn’t make her look like a wimp, they were heading toward the reservoir with a towel. At least it was gloomy enough that they wouldn’t see the bruises on her body.
“You’re not to go deeper than your waist,” Lysander said. “It’s dangerous. The water’s cold.”
Cold water was the least of Mollie’s worries. Man-eating predators, rip currents and jellyfish loomed large, let alone sharks and yes, she knew none of that was possible but her imagination was running riot.
“Are you okay?” Lysander asked her.
“Yep.” Who did that cheery voice belong to?
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes I do. But, er… I prefer cremation not burial, right?” She laughed and wondered if it sounded as forced as she thought.
Jean-Paul and Nikki had flashlights and were fooling around ahead. Mollie felt physically sick. The small amount of wine she’d drunk kept surging up her gullet. When she walked down onto the narrow rocky beach, her steps slowed. The sky might not be properly dark but the water was black, the surface shimmering like a sheet of opaque glass. I can do this. I can’t do this.
The beam of one of the flashlights bounced over the water and there was a sudden splash. Nikki shrieked and Mollie’s stomach clenched.
“Aden!” Lysander shouted.
“He threw a rock,” Jean-Paul told her. “You don’t have to do this. We shouldn’t have agreed to it. Just paddle, right? Don’t even think about swimming.”
“Wasn’t a village flooded to create this reservoir?” Aden said.
“Not this one,” Lysander said.
Mollie tried to stop listening but her mind launched into fantasies of ghostly spirits rising from the depths to pull her down. She walked to the edge of the water and froze.
“She’s not going to do it,” Nikki said. “Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck.”
“Shut up, Nikki,” Lysander snapped.
Mollie kicked off her shoes, yanked down her pants, pulled her shirt over her head and dropped them behind her.
“Just splash water on yourself and come out,” Lysander said at her ear.
Mollie tried closing her eyes but it wasn’t going to make walking in any easier so she opened them again. One step and she yelped. “Shit. It’s freezing.”
“No deeper than your waist,” Jean-Paul called.
“You have to soak yourself,” Nikki said.
Mollie kept walking, small steps, edging her way over the stony bottom, trying not to think about how slimy it felt. The chill crept up her body.
“Yay, Mollie,” Jean-Paul called. “You can do it.”
But I don’t want to. Even so, she kept going, icy-cold water inching its way up her legs. She’d been hoping it got deep a short way from the shore but she felt as if she’d walked halfway across the reservoir. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think. Just do it. Something slithered across her toes and her sharp intake of breath locked her lungs. Oh fuck.
“Far enough,” Lysander called.
One more step and her foot didn’t connect with anything. She went down and water surged over her head.
Chapter Fourteen
For a split second Lysander froze in shock staring at the place where Mollie had gone down, expecting her to pop to the surface, but she didn’t. He splashed into the water, and shuddered at how cold it felt as he rushed forward.
“Use the fucking flashlights,” he yelled, and the floor of the reservoir fell away beneath him.
He swam down, flailing, hoping to connect with some part of her and when he touched something solid, he grabbed it and surfaced only to see that he’d snagged Jean-Paul.
“Fuck it.”
Aden was in the water with them and the three dove again. Lysander could see virtually nothing. His muscles were sluggish in the freezing water and holding his breath was hard. But every second he wasted coming up for air lessened the chances of finding her alive. He forced himself deeper. Where the fuck are you? He caught the briefest glimpse of pale skin, felt a surge of hope, and kicked harder.
He powered to the surface with his arm wrapped around her, gasping for air as his head came out of the water, but Mollie stayed limp and didn’t make a sound. Jean-Paul and Aden were at his side and between them they dragged her onto the beach. As Lysander turned her over, Mollie choked, coughed, and water spewed from her mouth.
“Thank God.” Jean-Paul sat with his face buried in his hands, Aden sprawled shivering beside him.
Lysander shuddered with relief. Nikki came up with the towel and he wrapped it around Mollie’s shoulders.
“I’m okay,” Mollie croaked. “Has the water level
gone down much? I feel like I swallowed half the reservoir.” She shivered.
“Back to the house, all of you,” Lysander snapped. “Nikki, bring Mollie’s clothes.”
He picked Mollie up and carried her toward the path. He’d lost his shoes but was hardly aware of the rocks he was striding over. How could he have been so reckless as to go along with this?
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he whispered.
“What for?” Mollie wriggled. “I can walk. Put me down.”
“No.”
“It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It suddenly shelved.”
“I was completely crazy to let you do it.”
She tensed. “You didn’t let me do anything. I could have said no.”
“Okay, then I was completely crazy to go along with it. You could have died.”
“So could you,” Mollie said in a small voice. “Thank you for saving me.”
He thought he might have kept diving until he didn’t come up. No way could he let someone else… Oh shit.
Back at the house, he carried her to her bathroom. He didn’t even loosen his hold as he turned on the shower but when it was running hot, he allowed the towel to fall and stepped under the water with her. They sighed in unison as the heat leached the chill from their clothes.
“You going to freak out if I strip?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Do you have a tattoo of a dolphin on your chest or gills under your arms?”
“Not last time I looked. I could have done with the gills, though.”
His cold fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt but finally he was able to wrest it from his shoulders. He let it drop, and took off his pants. For once, he was wearing shorts. He kept those on. Mollie closed her eyes and stood with her face tipped to the water. The darker circles of her areolae stood out under the white cotton bra. There was no dark patch on her pants and he wondered if she shaved. His cock swelled at the thought. Oh Christ. Not now.
When she turned and faced the wall, he reached for the shower gel she’d looped over the rail and squirted it onto his hand. The moment she felt his hands on her back she stiffened and he stopped. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was not to push her. She had issues and he understood that. He had a mountain of his own.
“Yes or no?” he asked.
“Yes or no to what?”
“Can I wash you?”
She hesitated so long anxiety seized his chest, then “Yes” came out in a whisper and his cock twitched.
Lysander caressed her back, sweeping his hands over her skin, scowling at the dark bruises on her ribs. Maybe it was time for a little push.
“Truth or dare,” he said. “Are you married? Have you ever been married or engaged?”
“No, no and no. That’s three questions.”
He slid his hands around her waist onto her belly and her muscles trembled under his fingers.
“No, it’s not,” he said. “They’re all connected. Your turn.”
“I thought you had to answer your own question?”
He took a deep breath. “I was once engaged, and then married. Now I’m not. Your turn.”
“I’m pretty sure you don’t need the money so why do you have people living in your house?”
“I don’t like to be here on my own.”
He dropped to his knees and ran soapy hands over her feet and up her calves, a mix of washing and massage, though he was careful to skate lightly over her injuries. Inches from his face, the crease of her butt showed clearly through the wet material and the temptation to press his face there was almost too much to resist.
“You can’t really answer that one,” he said with a laugh.
“I sort of can. I could have looked for a place of my own, but I don’t know anyone here. I thought if I shared, I’d make friends.”
“Why did you come to Yorkshire?”
“Is that one of your questions? I thought it was my turn.”
“Have two goes and answer mine.”
He was on his feet again, washing her arms, soaping each slender finger, trying not brush his cock against her, though his cock wasn’t trying as hard as he was. Even inside his shorts, it was ultra-sensitive to the slightest touch.
“I let Jeremy, my portrait artist, choose. I told him to stick a pin in the map of the UK, though his first attempt put me in the middle of the North Sea.”
He chuckled as he washed her hair, dragging his fingers through the short strands and rubbing her scalp.
“You’re very good at that,” she said with a groan. “You could moonlight in a hairdresser’s salon. Your tips would be huge.”
He almost told her that his tip was already huge, but now she’d begun to relax, he didn’t want her tensing up again.
“So I get two goes,” she said. “Are you bisexual?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you no longer with your wife?”
He was glad Mollie couldn’t see his face, but the way he’d suddenly stopped rubbing his fingers in her hair had revealed more than he’d wished. “Dare.”
She sighed. “Was that such a hard question?”
“When did you lose your virginity?” he snapped back and immediately regretted it. “What do you want me to do, Mollie?” He trailed his fingers down her spine on to her butt, then ran his nails down the outside of her thigh. “What do you dare me to do?”
“I dare you to jerk off in front of me.”
He laughed in surprise and pulled her around to face him, placing her so the water rinsed the shampoo from her head. “I’m shocked, appalled, disgusted and completely turned on. I’m also impressed by your conniving little brain because I suspect an ulterior motive.”
She went red and he couldn’t help chuckling.
“You think if I’ve made myself come I won’t be able to fuck you?” He stepped under the flow and turned his head to rinse his hair.
She pressed her lips together.
“I accept the dare.” He pulled down his shorts and his cock sprang out.
Mollie squeezed her eyes shut and he brushed his thumb over her lips.
“Mollie. Thought you wanted to watch?”
“I didn’t say that. There was nothing in there at all about eyes having to be open.”
“Then how will you know I accepted the dare?”
“You’ll make a noise.”
He chuckled. “Maybe I won’t.”
She sighed. “Then I’ll take your word for it.”
“I’m not trustworthy. Open your eyes.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Too late. I accepted the dare. Open your eyes.”
She looked down and her eyes widened. “Oh God.”
“Was that an ‘Oh God what a fucking awesome cock,’ or ‘Oh God what a fucking awesome cock’?”
Her shoulders shook as she laughed.
Shit. I am on a fucking knife-edge here. He couldn’t look at her or he’d come so fast she’d blink and miss it. He closed his eyes, leaned back against the tiles and wrapped his fingers around his dick. He tried not to imagine Mollie on her knees in front of him, her tongue licking the length of his shaft before dipping into his slit to scoop up pre-cum. Tried not to imagine her lips tightening around the tip or her mouth opening wide to swallow him down. Tried not to think of the muscles of her throat squeezing him, or his cum jetting down her— Shit. Lemon yellow, bismuth yellow, cadmium lemon, Windsor lemon, Windsor yellow…
Well, that hadn’t helped because he felt himself sliding into thinking of the mix of paint to capture the tone of her butt in those wet panties. He opened his eyes and stared at her. If he was going to come fast, he might as well take her along for the ride. She didn’t look away and that thrilled him. Her cheeks were flushed and that thrilled him as well. As he completed his upstroke, he rolled his palm over the rounded head of his shaft before dragging his hand down again.
Tension already coiled at his core but he could feel it tightening like a winding spring. Mollie’s gaze slid fr
om his crotch to his face and back. He’d hoped to see desire, and while he thought it was there, he saw anxiety too. He was an expert at reading people and she wasn’t comfortable. Why not? Why was she trying to be something she wasn’t? Did she think this was what he wanted? He did and he didn’t. He didn’t want her to feel he was pushing her into anything. He wanted her to be who she was—Mollie—nothing more. His hand stilled and he took it from his cock. Every cell in his balls yelled abuse at him.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “You look so hot.”
“You don’t know what you want.” Nor did he, though his cock disagreed. With any other woman he’d have had her on her knees by now, his cock down her throat, or her legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her up against the tiles and shoved himself inside her. “Have you ever asked anyone to do this before?”
She shook her head, looking shocked he could think that, but he was the one who was shocked when he felt her fingers wrap around his dick. A groan shuddered past his lips. He tried to calm his racing respiration but the need to come rose in him like a tidal bore. He needed this harder, faster. He put his hand over hers and rocked his hips, thrusting into the tube made by their hands. His balls drew up as he and Mollie worked his cock in exactly the way he wanted. Still she stared at him, unblinking, a slightly open mouth he was desperate to fuck, lips he was desperate to kiss.
His gut tingled and the sharp cries from his throat came faster and louder. So much for not making a noise. He could feel his balls knotting, feel himself reaching the point of no return, the coil tightening and tightening until it snapped and he grunted, his cock spurting in their hands, thick ribbons of cum splattering his belly, sliding onto their fingers, and she still stared into his eyes.
“Did you come?” she whispered.
He barked out a laugh and she grinned. He milked the last dregs from his cock before he let her go. When he stepped back under the water, he hoped she’d move there with him because he wanted to slide his fingers into her panties and make her come too, but she didn’t stir. She looked…worried and that unsettled him again.
“My turn,” he said. “How did you really get those bruises?”
She spoke without hesitation. “My boyfriend hit me.”
Talking Trouble Page 16
