The Dare Collection April 2020

I swallowed. No, of course I wouldn’t. Everett Calhoun was one of a kind. There wasn’t anyone else like him, and if I wanted anything resembling a future sex life I was going to have to adjust my expectations.

Pushing aside the way my stomach dipped, in what I told myself definitely wasn’t bitter disappointment, I strolled over to the table, pulled out a chair beside him and sat myself down in it.

He didn’t look up, which was probably for the best, since looking at him close up wasn’t any better for my peace of mind than looking at him from far away. In fact, it was worse because there was a mark on his neck that I knew I’d given him, and there was one on my inner thigh that he’d given me in punishment.

And then thinking of punishment set off another train of memories that I didn’t need right now, making my butt suddenly feel hot and my pussy throb and every other inch of skin feel achingly sensitive.

Goddamn it.

‘Hey,’ I said into the silence. ‘So, is there breakfast?’

He nodded over to a trolley that I’d somehow missed seeing, covered in various silver-domed platters. There was a basket of rolls and pastries and also—blessedly—a steaming carafe of coffee.

‘Oh, great,’ I said, staring at him. ‘Thank you.’

He still didn’t look up. His blond brows didn’t even twitch.

‘A “Good morning, how are you today?” might be nice.’ I probably shouldn’t have pressed the issue, but I couldn’t help it. I just wanted him to look up and make eye contact.

Finally, his gaze lifted, his direct blue gaze meeting mine. There was nothing of the heat that had been in there the night before, nothing of the hunger or the intensity. There was only slight exasperation, the look he always gave me when he was in the middle of doing something and I was interrupting.

Clearly we were back to being friends again.

‘Good morning, how are you today?’ he said without inflection. ‘There. Happy now?’

I should have been happy. I should have been really pleased that we were back to normal. But I wasn’t.

I forced a smile. ‘Ecstatic. Want a coffee?’

He looked back down at his computer. ‘Yeah, that would be great.’

My gut dipped again, a sudden lurch that I couldn’t deny this time was nothing but disappointment. Though I didn’t know what I was expecting from him, not after we’d promised each other that a night was all it would be.

He was only doing what we’d agreed. What the hell was my problem?

Annoyed, I pushed myself out of the chair and went over to the breakfast trolley, picking up the covers over the food and taking a look at what was inside. Bacon and eggs and a fluffy omelette. Blueberry pancakes. All my favourites in other words, and that needled me too, though again I had no idea why.

My annoyance morphed into anger and I found myself putting the covers back on the food with slightly more force than was needed.

Stupid—I was being stupid.

Trying to get it together, I busied myself with getting coffee for us both, ladling Everett’s up with sugar since he liked his coffee black and sweet, before turning to bring it back to the table.

Only to find him staring at me, his blond brows pulled down.

It was so like the stern look he’d given me the night before, as he’d told me what to do, that everything in me tightened, my breath catching.

God, he was hot. Why had I liked the way he’d ordered me around? No, not just liked it. I’d loved it.

‘What’s the matter?’ The question was brusque, with an edge of command to it that I wasn’t sure was intentional or not.

What I did know was that I found it unbearably exciting.

‘Nothing,’ I said, equally brusque, even more pissed off than I was already.

His gaze narrowed, his focus intensifying. ‘Bullshit.’

Heat prickled over my skin, something in the heart of me responding instinctively to that edge inside him. I tried to ignore it. ‘You want this coffee or what?’

‘Little.’ There was a warning note in his voice.

‘No,’ I snapped. ‘You don’t get to do that now. I’m not taking your orders any more.’

Something that looked like surprise shifted in his gaze, as if he hadn’t realised what he was doing. Then, slowly, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking back down to his screen. ‘Yeah, fair enough. And sure, I would like that coffee.’

Him backing down should have mollified me. But it didn’t. If anything it made me feel even grumpier.

Get a fucking grip.

I gritted my teeth and tried to get a fucking grip, moving back over to the table with the mugs of coffee I’d poured for us. Of course, I put his down with a little more enthusiasm than I should have and it slopped over the rim of the mug.

Everett stared at the brown stain on the tabletop and then looked up at me. ‘Nothing, huh?’

I could feel my face getting hot. ‘I’ll get a cloth.’ I put my mug down and turned away.

Only to feel Everett’s strong fingers wrap tightly around my wrist.

‘Hey,’ I snapped, turning back. ‘What are you doing?’

His blue gaze bored into mine, his grip unrelenting. ‘And you don’t get to do that either. If you’re not taking my orders, don’t start behaving like you’re desperate to be punished.’

My cheeks flamed and abruptly I was trembling. The heat of his touch and the way he was holding me, the slide of light over his bare skin, outlining every muscle—it was all too much. It was all making me intensely aware that maybe one night wouldn’t be enough, that I’d want more than that. And that maybe he didn’t want to give it to me.

‘Or do you want some punishment?’ His voice turned hard, his gaze blue lightning. ‘Is that what you’re trying to say?’

Heat streaked through me. He wouldn’t be talking to me like this if he didn’t want it as badly as I did, surely? No, he wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t be looking at me so intently either, the way he had last night, as if he was reading every thought in my head.

I pulled against his hold deliberately, watching the flames in his eyes leap. ‘Punishment? Why the hell would I want that?’ I lifted my chin and pulled again, harder this time. ‘Let me go, asshole.’

But he didn’t. Instead he shoved back his chair and rose to his full height, making excitement buzz in my veins and a wild thrill ripple all over my skin.

He jerked me close, right up against his chest, his hot skin like a furnace burning through the material of my robe. He looked down at me and there was nothing of the friend in his eyes. Nothing at all.

Holding me tight, he tugged at the tie of my robe, pulling it undone and letting the material gape open. Cool air whispered over my skin, closely followed by the heat of his hand as he slid it blatantly between my thighs.

I shuddered as his fingers stroked over my sex, and instantly I was wet. Already I was on the verge of coming and it shocked me how ready I was for him. ‘We said only one night,’ I forced out, a moan escaping me as he found my clit with one finger and began to circle it lightly. ‘I…d-didn’t think you wanted more.’

‘I’ll tell you what I want and what I don’t. You don’t get to assume anything, understand me?’ Staring down at me, he slid one finger inside me, making me shake. ‘Fuck, you’re wet. You want my cock? Is that why you’re so pissy? You want my cock and you don’t know how to ask for it?’

I could barely speak as pleasure began to uncurl inside me, slow and liquid. ‘Yes,’ I breathed. ‘I want it. But not just for a night.’

He eased another finger inside me, stretching me gently, and I gasped. ‘I see. Well, perhaps I’m in a generous mood. And perhaps I’d like to give you what you want. But you have to take some punishment first, because I don’t like lies.’

This was probably a bad idea. No, not just bad. It was the worst idea in the history of the world. One night we could have chalked up to curiosity and moved on. But more than one…? Yeah, I wasn’t sure we could do that.

Yet right now I wasn’t thinking about that and I was pretty sure neither was he. Because he’d responded so quickly to me, and so intensely, he must have wanted this as badly as I did. And he’d been waiting for a sign from me.

I tipped my head back and looked up into his stern blue eyes. ‘I don’t want to be punished,’ I lied. ‘And I’m not turned on. Not even a little.’

Everett grinned. Then, before I could move, he turned me around and pushed me down face first over the table.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Everett

I SHOULDN’T HAVE done it. I shouldn’t have pushed her down over the table. I shouldn’t have pulled the robe off her. I shouldn’t have spanked her ass bright red. I shouldn’t have turned her over and fucked her hard right there on the table-top, making her scream even louder than she had the night before.

And I definitely shouldn’t have picked her up, thrown her over my shoulder and carried her into the bedroom, where we did it all over again.

No, what I should have done was keep on with my spreadsheet and ignore the increasingly annoyed looks she was sending me. Ignore the fresh scent of her skin, undercut with the musk of her growing arousal. Ignore the flashes of skin that her robe kept showing me. And yeah, I should have ignored the way she’d snapped at me, making it perfectly obvious what she wanted from me, even though she really didn’t understand it herself.

But I didn’t ignore it.

I gave her what she wanted, what we both wanted, and now what should have been just one night included a morning, and still my goddamn cock wanted more.

Freya was lying beside me on the bed and both of us were naked. The sheets were on the floor. She was on her front, hugging a pillow, while I lay on my back, staring at the goddamn ceiling, trying to figure out where the hell we went from here.

One night, I’d said. And what had I done the second she’d come into the room, all warm and sexy and freshly showered?

The control I thought I’d mastered was lying in shreds on the ground along with the fucking sheets.

‘So,’ she said quietly, her voice husky. ‘What now?’

It was a very good question and one I didn’t have an answer to. ‘It was supposed to be a night.’ I didn’t look at her, though I could feel her gaze resting on me.

‘Yeah, I know.’

A small silence sat between us.

‘Do you still want more?’ I asked, because I had to know where this was going, and I thought I knew the answer.

‘I mean…do you?’

I turned my head.

Her eyes were the green of a forest as they looked into mine, the freckles dusting her nose golden. Her hair had dried into thick waves over her shoulders and it had turned to fire in the sunlight coming through the windows.

My God, but she was beautiful.

‘Yes.’ I let her see the truth in my gaze. ‘I do.’ And I did.

I’d tried keeping her at a distance that morning, but that had lasted all of five seconds. And sure, I could draw a line under it now and really make an effort to keep everything locked down. But, by taking her this morning, we’d crossed yet another line and it seemed stupid to try and cross back over it again. She wanted more and so did I, so why not? Why not keep doing this until we’d both finally had enough, and then move on? She could get me out of her system and vice versa. And, besides, admitting that she was getting to me would mean accepting that my control wasn’t as perfect as I thought it was.

True, it hadn’t been last night, but perhaps that was me being a pussy about it. Perhaps I just needed to harden up. And wouldn’t carrying on doing this with Freya be the perfect way to go about it?

What about your friendship? How is that going to work?

It was going to work how it had worked before. We’d put this aside and go on as if nothing had happened.

‘You’re here for another five days,’ I went on, calmly blasting all the plans for this week to smithereens in favour of my dick. ‘So let’s keep doing this until it’s time for you to fly back to the States.’

It was only five days. What harm could it do?

Something that had been tight before relaxed in her face, her green eyes glittering. ‘I…would be very okay with that.’

‘Just five days. No more.’

‘And then we go back to the way it was before, right? Just friends again.’

‘Yeah.’ I turned onto my side and propped my head on my hand, looking down at her. ‘Just friends. And afterward we draw a line under this. We won’t talk about this again.’

She nodded, her gaze already dropping to my chest. ‘That’s fine. I can deal with that.’

I put out a hand and stroked my fingers over the satiny skin of her shoulder, allowing them to trail down her side, watching as she shivered gratifyingly. ‘Are you happy with me taking charge?’

‘Yes.’ There was no hesitation at all in the word. ‘Why do I like it so much when you do?’ Her brow wrinkled. ‘Is it weird? Does it mean there’s something wrong with me?’

‘Why the hell would you think there’s something wrong with you?’ I frowned, not liking that she’d think that way, though, knowing Freya, it wasn’t any wonder.

She gave a small shrug. ‘I dunno. Perhaps it’s weird.’

‘If it makes you weird, then it makes me even fucking weirder.’

‘You’re not weird, E.’

I stroked back up her shoulder again, relishing the feel of her silky skin against mine. ‘No, I’m not. And there are lots of other people just like me and just like you that get off on it too. So no more talk about how it’s wrong, understand?’

‘Oh, I don’t think it’s wrong really. I just… I’m surprised by how much I like it.’ She had a very serious look on her face. ‘But I think it only works with you. The thought of doing this with another guy leaves me cold.’

The same satisfaction I’d felt the night before shifted in my chest again. As if I was pleased she didn’t want to do this with another man. As if I’d punch anyone in the face who even dared to think they could do the same thing with her.

Dangerous.

I tried to ignore that thought. Yes, the urge to punch someone was dangerous, but what Freya did or didn’t do with another guy shouldn’t affect me. Because what the hell did I care if she wanted to follow someone else’s orders? Have someone else’s hand spanking her perfect ass?

A growl caught in my throat at that particular image and I had to shove the urge away hard before it got out.

Perhaps you shouldn’t be thinking about her with other men?

Yeah, no. Definitely not. It didn’t bode well for the five days we’d just agreed on, but shit, if I couldn’t control myself for five days then there was no fucking hope for me. This would be a test.

‘You don’t need to do it with another guy,’ I said. ‘You have me for the next five days and what we do together during that time is no one’s business but ours.’ I lifted my fingers from her shoulder and trailed them over the curve of her cheek instead. ‘I don’t think you’re weird. And I don’t think what we’re doing is wrong. You like it. I like it. That’s enough.’

Freya’s lovely mouth curved, the serious look vanishing. ‘Yeah, that’s true.’ She lifted her hand, her fingers reaching to stroke my chest. ‘I mean it, E. I don’t think you’re weird either. But…’ She gave me a questioning look. ‘What do you get out of orders and punishments?’

I’d never been asked that before but, since I’d demanded honesty from her, I couldn’t give her anything less than honesty myself. ‘Control.’ I turned my hand over, letting the backs of my fingers brush against her cheek. ‘That’s what it’s about. You giving me control, you making me responsible for your pleasure, is a gift. I like making people feel good, I like helping them out, and I get off on anticipating a woman’s needs. I get off on pushing her too, showing her what her body is capable of, what she is capable of.’ I let my hand drop away and put it over hers where her fingers brushed against my chest, holding her fingertips against me. I’d never articulated this to anyone before and for some reason I really wanted her to know. It was a part of myself I hadn’t shared with anyone. ‘There’s a moment when it’s all really good, where I’m just in the moment. Intensely focused. Powerful too. I’m completely and utterly in control of everything. It’s…like a drug high, only better.’

Her eyes were wide. ‘That sounds awesome.’

‘Submissives can get a high too, when it’s really intense. Basically, a massive endorphin rush.’

She blinked. ‘Really?’

‘Sure.’ I eyed her. ‘You might have had a taste of it last night.’ There was no ‘might’ about it. I’d recognised that glazed, spacey look.

Her eyes went even wider. ‘Was that what it was? A high? I mean, it did kind of feel like that at the time.’

‘Well, that’s what it is. I like taking control…you prefer to give it up.’

‘Huh.’ She gave a slow nod. ‘Maybe I do. But why is taking control so important to you?’

Freya knew about my dad, and what he was like, but we never talked about it because I didn’t like discussing it. Especially not with her. Back when I was younger, being with her was the only time I could get away from him, so talking about him made me feel as if he was intruding where he didn’t belong. Freya made me happy and I didn’t want to taint it by talking about that old bastard.

I let out a breath, not wanting to talk about it now either. But she was looking at me so earnestly I couldn’t not give her a straight answer. ‘You know what Dad was like. Always drinking. Always having to fight something. Fucking angry at everything, with not an ounce of self-control. I didn’t want to be like him.’

‘But you’re not like him.’

She had no idea. She hadn’t seen me punching the old prick in the face and kicking him to the ground. Or seen the recognition in his eyes as he’d lain on the floor, looking up at me standing over him with my knuckles bloody. And she definitely hadn’t heard that note of smug satisfaction in his voice as he’d told me how much like him I was…

‘There’s always that potential.’ I kept my tone noncommittal, hoping she’d get the hint and not ask too many more questions. ‘Alcoholism runs in families, and violence goes along with it, so I thought practising a little self-control myself wouldn’t hurt.’

Her palm was warm against my chest, unwavering as her support of me had always been. ‘Yeah, I suppose that’s fair enough. But, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’d ever do that.’

The conviction in her voice was unshakeable, as was the certainty in her gaze. She’d always seen something in me that wasn’t there and I didn’t have the heart to tell her she was wrong. Besides, I liked it when she looked at me like that. It made me feel like there was hope for me after all.

I said nothing, but I squeezed her hand, letting her know I appreciated the statement.

She smiled. ‘So…that high. Does it happen every time?’

I shook my head, holding her palm tight against my chest. ‘No. It’s only happened to me a handful of times. You have to have a certain level of trust with someone before it works like that, and it really involves absolute trust. Trusting your partner and them trusting you. And trust can only really be found in the clubs if you’re not in a permanent relationship.’

‘Oh? Why is that?’

‘Because clubs have rules and people monitoring them. It’s once you go out of a club, where no one is checking up on people, that things can get dangerous and scary.’

Freya’s green eyes searched my face. ‘I… Did it happen with…uh…us?’

I’d known she was going to ask and though something in me wasn’t happy giving her the truth, I couldn’t lie about it either. ‘Yeah,’ I said.

Her eyes went wide. ‘It did?’

‘Last night. This morning.’ I shouldn’t have gone on, but I did. ‘It felt like I could read your mind, Little. Like I knew exactly what you wanted, without you having to tell me. And you knew exactly what I wanted from you too. I could feel your trust in me and how absolute it was, like you’d trust me with anything. Anything at all.’

She nodded, her gaze still wide. ‘Yes, I would.’ Her throat worked as she swallowed. ‘It’s not like that with everyone?’

‘No. No it’s not.’

We stared at each other for a long moment and I could feel something thickening in the air between us. Something that really shouldn’t have been there.

And it was clear she felt it too, because she suddenly looked down at my chest again. ‘Why me then?’ The question came out sharply, as if she hadn’t meant to say it. ‘Why is it different with me?’

‘I think because you’re my friend and we have a level of trust in each other already.’

‘So…the other women this has happened with… You had the same level of trust with them?’ That sharp note was still in her voice, as if the idea of other women bothered her. Almost as if she was…jealous. Which was odd, because she’d never been jealous before.

You’ve never slept with her before.

Another thread of emotion twisted inside me and I didn’t like it. Complications. Christ, if I needed a reminder of why this whole thing had been a bad idea then here it was.

‘Those other women are in the past.’ I reached to take her chin in my hand, to tilt her head back so I could see what was in her eyes. ‘You’re the one in my bed right now.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I know.’ She pulled away before I had a chance to take hold of her, tugging her hand out from under mine and turning away. ‘You know, I didn’t have breakfast and I should really have something to eat.’

Then, before I could stop her, she’d slipped off the bed and headed out the door.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Freya

AS SOON AS I went back into the living area of the suite, belting the robe I’d grabbed to wear around me again, I knew I’d made a mistake. I’d succumbed to a stupid burst of jealousy about the other women Everett had gotten his ‘high’—or whatever the hell it was—with.

It was dumb. I knew I was special to him. I knew it. I was his friend and that meant a lot. But…somehow, knowing he’d felt that high with other people, knowing he’d had that experience with someone else…

I don’t know. I guess I wanted to be even more special. I wanted him to have it with only me. I had lots of other things he shared only with me—that mention about his evil old man, for example—so why not this? But saying that to him would make what had happened to us into something more than it was. And we weren’t doing that.

Five days. That was all, and hell, that was fine by me. More than fine. The moment he’d pulled me to him this morning, all hot, sexy authority and dominance, I knew I wanted more. That one night wasn’t enough to explore what we’d discovered. And doing this again over the five days I was in London, before I left for home and Tiffany’s stupid wedding…yeah, that was perfect.

So, no more making a big deal about the sex. And no more getting jealous or possessive, right?

Yes. Right. I’d enjoy what we had here and now and once I left we’d both draw a line under it like he’d said.

In the meantime, breakfast.

The food had cooled, but I didn’t care. I got myself a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs and some pancakes, then I sat down at the table and started to eat.

Everett wandered out a few moments later, wearing jeans and nothing else, which was more than okay by me, though I preferred him naked.

He was frowning, giving me a gauging look, and I knew if he asked me what was wrong yet again I’d probably scream. I didn’t want to have to explain my reaction to the thought of those women. I didn’t want to have to admit to him that I was jealous. Because then everything would become a big deal and that was not what this was about.

So, instead, I swallowed my mouthful and said, to pre-empt him, ‘Hey, so I’m not in London all that long and I’d sort of planned to do some sightseeing. Go and see the Tower of London, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace—all that stuff.’