If She Dares (Contemporary Romance)

by Tanya Michaels

  I did it!

  A moment later the door across the hall opened, and her subconscious rewarded her burgeoning courage with Jack Reed in only a pair of black shorts. Her throat went dry at the sight of his chest and toned arms. It wasn’t until she saw him that she noticed what she was wearing—a lacy blue chemise that looked nothing like the oversize T-shirts she normally wore to bed.

  Jack’s gaze traveled over her in slow, appreciative perusal that made her skin tingle. “Thought I heard someone out here.”

  “I was on my way to your place. I...” Inspiration seized her. There were no repercussions in fantasies, only wanton pleasure. “I wondered if I could take you up on that offer to practice strip poker.”

  Reaching forward, he took her hand and led her into his apartment. “With as little as either of us are wearing? This could be a very short game.” He slid his fingers beneath the straps holding up her nightgown, his touch a tantalizing rasp against her skin. His smile was wicked. “You already admitted you aren’t good at poker, so let’s assume I won.” With one fierce tug, he stripped her bare.

  She crooked a thumb in the elastic of his shorts. “Let’s assume it was a tie.” The shorts didn’t slide down as easily, impeded by a sizable erection, but a moment later they were both naked.

  Need thrummed through her. It had been so agonizingly long since she’d felt like this, since a man had touched her. She rose up on tiptoe, and he met her halfway, tracing her lips, licking his tongue into her mouth, stoking the fire that raged through her. She gloried in letting that need burn out of control, desperate to go up in flames with Jack.

  His hands dropped from her waist to brush over the curves of her ass, kneading, pulling her tighter against his body. She moaned at the steely heat of him, pressed so close to where she wanted him to be. Between kisses, he walked them backward, grabbing a blanket from his couch and tossing it to the ground. Then he was lowering her to the floor. He palmed one breast, his eyes locked on hers. “Tell me what you like.”

  You. She was too aroused to think in specifics or form words. Instead, she tried to show him how much she liked his touch by arching into his hand, pleasure rocking through her when he rubbed his thumb over a hardened nipple. The nerves there tightened even further, and she felt every pluck of his fingers straight to her core. He turned his head to her other breast, kissing a line across the slope to the aching peak. Then her entire existence was hot suction and the sensual scrape of teeth and her own mindless gyrations as her body moved of its own accord. His mouth was still at her nipple when he thrust into her, and she clenched around him.

  He propped himself up on his arms, the muscles standing out in corded relief, and watched her face as he withdrew and entered again. She bent her knees to accommodate more of him, to feel him more deeply, and he raised her leg over his shoulder, slamming into her with the intensity she craved. He laced his fingers through hers on either side of her head, holding her in place, a willing captive to this raw, inescapable bliss. Her hips rose to meet his each time he drove into her, bringing her closer and closer, until she was quaking.

  And then she was tumbling over the brink, her body trembling with satisfaction as she—

  Riley’s eyes shot open, her ragged breathing the only sound in the dark room as her orgasm rippled through her. A dream. It had been a dream. She’d known that, at some point, but the physical sensations had been so powerful she’d forgotten. She swallowed hard, riding out the last pulsing throbs of climax.

  Sex with Jack might not have been real, but the pleasure had been.

  She switched on her bedside lamp, ignoring the questioning look the dog shot her from the foot of the bed, and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. As she passed through her living room, she couldn’t help glancing at her front door. What would happen if she showed up at Jack’s and suggested strip poker in real life?

  Don’t be ridiculous. It’s three in the morning, and your real-life pajamas have zero sex appeal. Plus, just today, Jack had commented that he was enjoying his drama-free bachelorhood, uninterested in seeing anyone. During waking hours, it was smarter to keep their friendship platonic.

  But if he made an encore appearance in her dreams? Her body heated at the memory and, for the first time in months, she found herself actually looking forward to falling asleep.

  5

  RILEY PARKED IN her parents’ driveway Thursday evening, glad to see her father’s truck. She hadn’t been sure if he would be home from work yet, but she was hoping to enlist his help.

  Larry Kendrick’s habit was to hide behind newspapers or sports magazines and let his wife make household decisions. When Riley was younger, she’d briefly wondered if it was because the burly man wasn’t as interested in the girly details of his daughters’ lives. But the truth was, he was a giant teddy bear who adored his daughters and would have spoiled them rotten without Sheryl Kendrick to counterbalance his indulgent tendencies. Organized and efficient, Sheryl tolerated zero nonsense—she could silence rowdy kids at the library where she worked with nothing more than a raised eyebrow. She would be the tough nut to crack.

  As she unbuckled her seat belt, Riley turned to her passenger. “Your job is to be as adorable as possible. Don’t chew anything, and whatever happens, do not pee in my mother’s house.” Riley wasn’t too worried, though. Mags was way past puppy teething and had only had one accident in the past forty-eight hours.

  At the veterinary clinic this morning, Dr. Juliet Burke had declared Mags a fully grown dog. “She’s probably younger than two years, but technically an adult. The kind of dog she is, she’ll always have this puppyish appearance.” Juliet had flashed Riley a conspiratorial, woman-to-woman grin. “Looking young forever—she’s living the dream!”

  Riley hadn’t even realized she’d subconsciously settled on a name for the dog until she’d called to schedule the vet appointment. She’d spent hours on Wednesday posting found-dog flyers and talking to shopkeepers up and down Magnolia Street; when the clinic receptionist had asked for the pet’s name, Riley had responded “Mags” without hesitation.

  She unzipped the gym bag she was still using as a de facto pet carrier. After a couple of days of being in and out of the car, Mags had become a pretty complacent travel partner. She now wore a bright pink collar, and Riley snapped on the leash she’d purchased.

  “Okay. Showtime.” They made their way up the sidewalk, and Riley grinned at the sight of familiar Halloween decorations she recognized from adolescence. A huge purple bat dangled from the ceiling of the vestibule, and a life-size, glow-in-the-dark skeleton was affixed to the front door.

  Every year, Sheryl Kendrick bought flavored dental floss for the neighborhood trick-or-treaters. And, every year, sometime between the wee hours of Halloween morning and that first ring of the doorbell after dusk, Larry would surreptitiously add chocolate candy bars to the trick-or-treat bowl. They all knew he did it, but so far as Riley knew, no one had actually caught him in the act. He was definitely the parent more likely to agree to her request.

  She rang the bell, and her mother answered the door seconds later, her expression one of beaming surprise. “Riley! How wonderful to see you.” She was already stepping forward to envelop her daughter in a freesia-scented hug when her gaze followed the leash in Riley’s hand downward. “What’s this? And don’t you dare say ‘it’s a dog.’”

  “This is Mags.” Riley scooped up the dog, so her mom could get a better look. The cuteness was even more potent at close range. “I actually wanted to talk to you and Dad about her. Is he home?” she asked innocently.

  “Oh, dear. I’m getting that same feeling in the pit of my stomach as when your sister showed up last weekend and said she had career news.” As Riley came inside, Sheryl called upstairs for her husband. “Are you finished changing, Larry? You’ll never guess who dropped by to see us.”

  Footsteps
thudded overhead, then Riley’s father was headed down the stairs in one of his post-workday sweat suits. “My favorite daughter!”

  “Daddy, you say that to whichever one of us you’re talking to at the time.”

  “It’s a three-way tie.” He moved to give her his customary bear hug but stopped short at the dog in her arms. “Since when do you have a puppy?”

  “She’s actually not a puppy, and since Tuesday. I found her during a thunderstorm, near a busy intersection with lots of dangerous traffic. She was shivering, and I couldn’t just leave her there.”

  “Of course not,” Larry agreed promptly. “I raised you better than that.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake.” Sheryl folded her arms across her chest. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you, Riley Katherine?”

  Larry tucked an arm around Riley’s shoulders and drew her farther into the house. “Will you be staying for dinner?”

  “If it’s no trouble. Mom, do you need some help in the kitchen?”

  Her mother was not distracted by this offer. “You said you need to talk to your father and me about the dog? Why? It can’t be for our wisdom as pet owners. We’ve never had a dog.” And never will, her tone suggested.

  Setting Mags down so she could sniff the new surroundings, Riley strolled around with her, letting her explore and get comfortable before taking off the leash. She was encouraged when her father knelt down to pet the dog.

  “The thing is, current pet policy at my building doesn’t allow me to keep her. But that could change,” she said in a rush. Even if she didn’t get elected president, she thought she could work on the board members. When she’d approached Anna Tyler about it before, it had been a whim, and Riley hadn’t been invested enough to plead her case. The secretary was a widow who could probably relate to the benefit of companionship; the treasurer was a recently divorced man. Riley wasn’t above suggesting the dog park as a potential place to meet women. And if she couldn’t get permission to keep Mags in her current apartment...well, there were only two months left in her lease.

  If necessary, could she convince her parents to “babysit” Mags while Riley paid for all of the dog’s needs and visited frequently? They’d been complaining that they hadn’t seen enough of her over the past year.

  “I spent yesterday posting flyers and leaving my number with shop owners near where I found her,” Riley said, “so it’s still possible someone who loves and misses her will call me. But if not, I’d like to keep her. Having her around makes me smile. I’ve...felt more like myself the past few days.” Her parents didn’t need to know that some of her emotional improvement might be due to the hot guy across the hall.

  Sheryl’s gaze softened. “There is research that indicates owning a pet can be therapeutic.”

  “Do you think there’s any chance she might be able to stay here for a week or so while I try to sort out the situation?” She was hoping they’d focus on a week and not the prospect of it stretching on for longer. While she thought it would be best for Mags to get her settled into a permanent home as soon as possible, she also needed time to finesse the situation.

  Her mother sighed. “I suppose we can discuss it further over dinner.”

  Riley leaned over to kiss her mother’s cheek. “Thank you.”

  “We haven’t agreed to anything,” Sheryl warned.

  “I know. Hey, Dad, would you mind taking Mags to run around in the backyard while I get some stuff for her out of the car? Just make sure to stay close. She’d probably look like an easy meal to any hawks in the area.”

  “Sure thing,” Larry agreed. He took the leash from Riley’s hand and spoke to the dog in a tone of voice normally reserved for cute babies. “I won’t let anything get you. No, I won’t.”

  Sheryl threw her hands in the air. “Wonderful. My oldest daughter is shaping up to be a con artist, and my youngest now sells underwear for a living.”

  “Try to look at it as job security.” Larry winked at Riley. “After all, everyone needs underwear.” With that, he took Mags to the back door and removed her leash so she could fully enjoy the fenced yard.

  “I’ll be right back,” Riley told her mother. She really did have stuff for Mags in the car, like her dinner and a ball for Larry to throw. And a dog bed that Riley was hoping to leave here. “Then I can help you with—”

  “Not so fast,” her mother said. “I’m afraid if I don’t ask you about this now, it might slip my mind.”

  That might be the closest her mother had ever come to telling a bald-faced lie. Sheryl Kendrick never forgot anything.

  Riley gave a smile that she hoped looked expectant rather than suspicious. “Yes?”

  “Lynne Granger across the street has a nephew visiting from Savannah this weekend, in town for the wedding of an old friend Saturday night. But Lynne unexpectedly caught a flight to Greenville today when her daughter went into early labor. She feels bad that Mitch will be at her house all alone, so I extended an invitation for him to have dinner with us tomorrow night. You should join us! Lynne says he’s thirty, so only a few years older than you. I’m sure he’d feel more comfortable with someone his own age here.” She narrowed her eyes. “And it will be an excellent opportunity for you to visit Mags.”

  So this was the price of temporarily fostering her dog at her parents’ house—accepting a blind date. She sighed. Would it be worth reminding her mother yet again that she wasn’t interested in dating, that she still fought the urge to recoil when someone touched her? Well, in real life, anyway. Her cheeks heated as she recalled flashes of last night’s hazy, sensual dreams.

  “Can we count on you for dinner tomorrow?” her mother prompted.

  Sitting through one dinner in exchange for Mags having a home while Riley fought the system? “Deal.”

  * * *

  IT WAS LONELY, driving back to her apartment and knowing that Mags wouldn’t be with her tonight. But if everything worked out the way Riley hoped, Mags would be hers in the long run. Plenty of amiable evenings ahead of them.

  Since the day’s mail hadn’t come yet before she headed to her parents, Riley detoured through the marble-tiled lobby toward the small alcove that held each tenant’s locked mailbox. She rounded the corner, drawing up short when she spotted Jack, his back turned to her. He looked crisp and professional in dark slacks and a dress shirt. Her fingers itched to rumple his dark hair and unknot his tie. How much would it take to get past the polished veneer and provoke an unrestrained male response?

  Inappropriate, Ry. Giving herself a hard mental shake, she reminded herself that, outside a couple torrid dreams, she didn’t have any right to touch him. Or undress him with her eyes. So she tried to sound casual, and not ready to pounce on him, when she said, “Hey, there, neighbor.”

  He turned with a smile. “Hey, back.” Eyes dropping to her purse, he inched closer. Then he spoke out of the side of his mouth, sounding like a gangster from a 1930s black-and-white film. “What’s the score today, boss? We smuggling cockatoos? Ferrets? An Arabian Thoroughbred?”

  She laughed. “Afraid not. I left Mags with my parents for the moment.”

  “So the previously unnamed pup is Mags now?”

  “For Magnolia Street. Where I found her.”

  “Mags,” he repeated, considering. “I like it. Probably not what I would have chosen, but—”

  “I couldn’t call her fuzz-bucket forever. It lacks dignity.”

  “No, that was just a nickname. For a formal name, I’d probably go bigger, something that would instill the confidence to take on the world, no matter how small and cute she is. Like Colossus. Or Chewbacca.”

  Riley was grateful for the harmless teasing. It kept her from dwelling on the memory of him kissing her while thrusting slowly into her. Dreams aren’t memories. Still, heat suffused her body. They were close together in the small enclo
sure, and he smelled incredible—a warm, woodsy sensory detail her dreams didn’t include. Was that cologne, or expensive soap? She fought the urge to close her eyes and inhale deeply.

  “Riley?” Curiosity laced his voice, but in her mind, she heard the echo of a deeper tone, coarse with desire. Tell me what you like.

  “I, uh...” Hoping to recover her composure, she sidestepped him to unlock her mailbox. By the time she’d riffled through the assorted envelopes and tossed two Dear Occupant letters into the trash, her breathing was back to normal. “Are you just getting in for the day?” she asked. She imagined people who worked with the police pulled all kinds of long hours.

  “Yeah, but if no emergencies come up, I should be able to sleep in tomorrow. The first thing on my schedule is to— You probably don’t want to hear this.”

  He sounded genuinely shy, which was unlike him. “Hear what?”

  “I’m going to the morgue.” He shot her a sidelong glance, as if checking her reaction. “There’s an unidentified body that was badly burned, and I’m helping approximate facial reconstruction. I’ve dated more than one woman who was freaked out by that aspect of my job.”

  It sounded noble to Riley. “If you help identify this person, someone out there might get a concrete answer to what happened to a loved one. As awful as it must be to lose someone, I imagine knowing for sure is better than horrible, nagging uncertainty. But who cares what I think? You and I aren’t dating.”

  “True.” They left the mail alcove, headed by unspoken accord toward the stairs. “All the same, I...do care about your opinion.”

  His admission left her a little giddy, and she had to fight to keep herself from grinning like an idiot.

  Before she could respond, he added, “And I’m not the only one who holds you in high regard. Juliet texted earlier. She really likes you.”

  “The feeling’s mutual. Once I figure out how to keep Mags—”

  “I knew you would.” His voice was playfully smug as he opened the door to the stairwell for her. “Totally called that one.”