Dare to Love

by user

  “Do you want to risk telling me your wish?”

  “Hmm, interesting dilemma.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my wish was about you.”

  Her body quaked, but not from chill. His words were spoken in a low voice, husky with a sensual promise. She was almost afraid to ask him to reveal his wish, and too

  curious not to.

  “Tell me.”

  “I wished that I could hold you in my arms and kiss you under the stars.” His words cut through her defenses and went straight to her heart. That he would wish for a kiss from her was unexpected, not to mention thrilling.

  “That means I hold your destiny in my hands,” she said, reveling in the heady feel of

  knowing Jake desired her.

  “Yeah, you do. So?”

  “So, what?” she teased.

  “Does my wish come true or not?”

  Without hesitation, she said, “Most definitely. Your wish is granted.” His expression turned dark as he loomed over her, not waiting more than a whispered

  breath to pull her against him and lower his mouth to hers.

  Warm lips covered hers, coaxing a response that sounded more like a gasp than a pleasured sigh. And yet it was both. Jake held such barely leashed passion within that

  when he let it out it was near overwhelming, but not unwelcome. She eagerly pressed

  against him, sliding her arms around his shoulders and pulling him toward her.

  She

  wanted his body to cover hers, the same way his mouth had taken her lips.

  “I waited all damn day for this,” he said through clenched teeth. His hand slid up underneath the sweatshirt, under her tank top, fluttering along her rib cage on a relentless

  search. She knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he grasped what he sought.

  His thumb found her nipple and flicked it gently. She gasped and arched into his hand as his palm covered her breast, gently squeezing and kneading the instantly aroused

  flesh.

  Clouds had blown in and covered the moonlit sky, rendering them in the darkness.

  Wind had blown out the candles he’d set, forcing them to rely on touch and sound rather

  than sight.

  Lucy longed to see his face, and yet his voice, his breathing, his every touch told her

  all she needed to know. He was like a man on a mission, and his mission was her.

  No part of her remained untouched. His hands wandered everywhere, from her breasts to her ribcage and over her hips. With a swift tug he pulled her shorts down and

  off, the now cool breeze biting against her bare legs before he threw the blankets over

  them again.

  “Dammit, it’s dark and I want to see you,” he rasped in her ear. Heat burned through,

  his very words like a scorching fire that she knew she shouldn’t touch but couldn’t stay

  away from.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind she considered suggesting they move into the house, where she could see him. She’d thought about him, about his body, from the first

  moment she’d laid eyes on him, her imagination conjuring up vivid images of a bronzed,

  god-like statue. Her most fervent wish was to see that statue unclothed before her, so she

  could admire and touch every angle and curve of his hardened body.

  But her mind wouldn’t cooperate. She didn’t want to break the spell he’d woven over

  her, didn’t want to take a chance that he would stop like he’d done before. This time she

  was stone cold sober and didn’t want to stop. This time she wanted it all.

  His lips against the pulse point on her throat set her on fire. He licked and nibbled her neck until she cried out a gasp that he covered with his mouth.

  She could barely take the overwhelming sensations he evoked, and yet he was relentless. He simply would not stop. Not that she’d ask him to. But she refrained from

  begging for more.

  His work-roughened hand slid over her hipbone and down her thigh, alternately clenching and unclenching as it squeezed her tender flesh.

  She felt his erection pulsing hard against her hip as he leaned into her, and longed to

  wrap her fingers around that part of him. But he seemed to be eluding her questing hands.

  “Jake, please. I want to touch you.”

  “Plenty of time for that later,” he said in a rough voice, then gently parted her thighs

  with his hand and slid his palm against her aching sex.

  Never before had sparks of pleasure flown through her with such intensity as they did the moment he touched her sensitive flesh. Instinctively she rocked against his palm,

  aiding his questing fingers by arching her hips.

  She was already so close to orgasm she knew it was only a matter of seconds before

  she exploded against his hand. When he slipped his fingers under her silk panties and

  parted her slick folds, she bit her lip to keep from crying out her pleasure.

  Gently, he eased one, then two fingers inside her, boldly praising her aroused state.

  She couldn’t have said two words if her life depended on it. All she could do was gasp,

  and pray fervently that he rode out this storm with her, that he didn’t pull away as he’d

  done before.

  Mindless with passion, she heard only his murmuring in her ear, coaxing her to let go, each spoken word coupled with the agonizing pleasure of his fingers moving within

  her, his thumb circling the sensitive nub.

  Finally the moment was upon her, and she held on to his shoulders and pushed against his hand, her buttocks rising up as he drove her over the edge, taking in her cries

  of pleasure with his lips as he kissed her through her shuddering climax.

  He held her, kissing her as she gradually regained some semblance of sanity. He pulled her against him and laid her head on his shoulder, one of her legs flung over his,

  just as she’d wished earlier. He didn’t say a word, just stroked her back while her breathing returned to normal.

  What could she say to him after what had just happened? She’d never lost control like that before. She’d never had a sexual experience like that before, never had a man

  put her pleasure before his own.

  But now that he’d shown her how unselfish he was, how giving, she wanted to return

  the favor. Boldly she reached out her hand and caressed his chest, curling her fingers in

  the crisp hairs above his shirt.

  “Now, it’s your turn.” She smiled into the darkness as he sucked in a breath.

  Something cold and wet hit her forehead. Once, twice, then several more.

  “It’s raining.” Jake jumped up in a flash as the sky opened, drenching them in a downpour. He motioned for Lucy to hurry, which she did as best she could, struggling

  with the last vestiges of her modesty as she scurried back into her clothes and grabbed

  what blankets she could hold. Jake jumped off the trampoline and held his arms out to

  her. She leaned into him and he swept her onto the ground. They both took off in a brisk

  run toward the house.

  Rascal was inside the door, wagging his tail for them.

  Once inside, Jake grabbed the now-soaked blankets and laid them in another room,

  returning with a towel for her.

  She dried her wet skin and hair, not once taking her eyes off the man who, moments

  ago, had taken her to a height of pleasure that still left her shaking and wanting more.

  “I can’t believe it’s raining like that.” His eyes darkened to a smoldering amber.

  Lucy felt the stirrings of arousal surround her once again, knowing the magic of this

  night was just beginning. “Maybe it was a sign that it was time to come inside.” He nodded, then stepped toward her, gathering her in his arms. Their eyes met and

>   held, and she felt every blissful second tick by as he lowered his face to hers.

  Then her cell phone rang.

  Jake lifted his head.

  “Ignore it,” she said.

  He nodded and the phone stopped ringing. “Now, where were we?” The phone rang again.

  Lucy sighed. “I’d better check to see who that is.” He pulled away while she ran to the dining room to retrieve her telephone. Seeing the home number, she answered.

  “Lucille?”

  It was her father. She knew she shouldn’t have answered. When would she learn to

  listen to that voice inside her head? “Yes?”

  “I need you to come home.”

  She sighed. “Father, really. I thought we had this discussion before. I’m old enough

  to—”

  “You don’t understand,” he interrupted. “I’m having chest pains. I thought it was indigestion but they won’t go away. In fact, they’re getting worse.” Panic flew through her, and she began to shake. “Father, call 911 now!”

  “No, it’s not that bad. I just don’t want to be here alone in case something happens.”

  Knowing how stubborn her father could be about medical issues, she said, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  She hung up and turned to Jake, who had come into the room and was standing behind her.

  “Jake, I’m sorry, I have to go. My father is having chest pains and he’s so stubborn and won’t go to the doctor and—”

  Jake took a step and gathered her in his arms, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

  “Hey, it’s okay. Go, take care of your dad.”

  She wished she could bring him along, felt a desperate need for his strength. But she

  knew she couldn’t because his presence would only make things worse. “I’m sorry. Jake,

  I’m so sorry,” she said at the same time gathering her purse and slipping on her sandals.

  “We’ll have more nights like tonight. Go, and be careful.” Pressing a quick kiss to his lips she flew out the door toward her car, hoping her father merely had another attack of indigestion.

  He may be an insufferable pain in the butt, but he was the only family she had.

  Once

  inside the vehicle, she quickly started it up, counting the minutes until she’d reach home.

  Chapter Nine

  Lucy wrapped her arms around herself and paced the library, trying her best not to

  glare at her father.

  He was fine. There was nothing wrong with him. High color fused his face. He wasn’t even pale. No sweating, his pulse was strong. He looked fit and robust as he sat

  reading the financial section of the paper while she paced and fumed.

  Oh, he’d tried to give her his best oh-poor-pitiful-me performance when she’d flown

  through the front door and raced to his side after breaking nearly every speed record

  between Jake’s house and hers, frantic and praying that she wouldn’t find her father

  passed out on the floor when she got there…or worse.

  He’d been sitting in that very chair, slumped, but rosy cheeked, looking up at her with his sad, puppy dog eyes. He’d coughed, raised a limp hand up to her. Then she’d

  known. Her father would never go down easy. He’d fight his own death…to the death.

  “How do you feel now?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “A little better. The aspirin helped, I think. Thank you.” His voice was faint, barely above a whisper. The man was never going to win an Academy Award for his performance. Honestly, he really was a pathetic liar. He was a

  master at manipulation in the courtroom, but she knew him all too well. She saw right

  through this act for exactly what it was—a way to separate her from Jake.

  Somehow he’d

  known she was with Jake and he’d had to pull this dying act to get her to come home.

  Though a part of her wasn’t one hundred percent certain that was true, so here she was,

  playing nursemaid for what she was almost sure was no good reason.

  “It means so much to me to have you here by my side, Lucille. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

  Fumed that his ploy hadn’t worked, no doubt. Then strategized a full blown stroke.

  Or set the house on fire. “You have a house full of servants, Father.” He shook his head, raising his hand in a weak attempt to brush it through his hair.

  “It’s not the same thing. You’re the only family I have. If something had happened and I

  would have…passed on without seeing you…”

  She turned away and rolled her eyes, then sat with her father for another hour while

  he read the financials. She watched the clock until he finally decided to go to bed, then

  she said she was going to bed, too. She went up to her room, closed the door, and waited

  another hour, even creeping over to her father’s wing of the house to make certain his

  light was off.

  It was only ten. She was irritated, pent up and angry at her father for ruining what would have been a very special evening with Jake. She picked up her cell phone and

  hesitated only a few seconds before pressing the button. Jake answered on the first ring.

  “How’s your dad?”

  She smiled. “He’s fine. False alarm.”

  She heard him exhale. “That’s great news.”

  “I think he faked it to get me home.”

  Jake paused. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I can’t be sure, but I have my suspicions.” She waited, a bit nervous about inviting herself back over there. It was a Saturday, and he might have plans for the next

  day.

  “So, can you sneak out without Daddy catching you?” She giggled, feeling like a teenager. “Yes, I think so. Are you sure you want me to come back?”

  “We need to finish what we started. Don’t get a ticket speeding over here, but hurry

  the hell up.”

  She hung up, feeling a thrill of excitement and warmth as she changed clothes, brushed her teeth and tiptoed out the back door toward the garage. The thirty-minute

  drive to Jake’s house seemed like hours. Thankfully, the rain had stopped, leaving a

  glassy sheen on the roads. But that also meant she had to slow down. It didn’t stop her

  pulse from racing, though.

  By the time she pulled into his driveway, her heart was jackhammering and her palms were sweaty. He opened the front door before she’d even started up the walk. She

  held her breath at the sight of him leaning against the doorway, an open bottle of beer in

  his hand and a half-smile on his face. God, he was so sexy. And he was hers.

  For tonight, anyway.

  “Took you long enough.”

  “I was trying not to get a ticket since I practically broke the land speed record on the

  way home.”

  He moved out of the way to let her inside, then shut and locked the front door, leading the way into the living room. “Sorry he put you through that.” Lucy sat on the sofa, kicked off her sandals and ran both hands through her unruly hair. “I’m used to it.”

  Jake arched a brow. “He has fake heart attacks a lot?”

  “No. He manipulates me to get his own way.” She shifted to face him. “But I couldn’t take the chance that something might be seriously wrong with him.”

  “I understand. You’re a good daughter.”

  She shrugged. “He’s in bed now. He’s fine. And I’m here, with you.”

  “Yeah, you are. Thanks for coming back.”

  “Thanks for letting me.”

  Lucy suddenly felt awkward, which made her even angrier at her father. Things between her and Jake had been perfect earlier. He had taken her to a magical place. There

  had been heat and passion brewing between them, and with one phone call her fath
er had

  put this invisible wedge between her and Jake that she wasn’t sure how to remove.

  “Stop thinking.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re still angry at your dad. He’s interfering. Push him out the door.” Jake was right. Her father was still winning. She refused to let that happen. She pulled her legs up on the sofa and leaned into Jake. “Then kiss me until I can’t think

  anymore.”

  Apparently he didn’t need to be asked twice, because he dragged her into his arms

  and kissed her. Deep, and with the same mind-boggling passion he’d shown her outside

  earlier. In a matter of minutes Lucy was fully involved in Jake, all thoughts of her father