Love Me, I Dare You (Crossroads #1)

Prologue

Bailey

A decade ago

There are times in life when everything you’ve ever wanted is just out of reach and others where reality is better than what you could have dreamt up. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine my childhood crush on Nash Bishop would flourish into obsession—an all-consuming need that made me feel like my soul had left my body and attached itself to his. Like I’d never be complete without him.

My love for him was the type that came once every few lifetimes, and when it was gone—dead and buried into the coldest depths of the earth—you felt it in your entire being. I had never experienced anything like it and I knew I wouldn’t again. However, that also meant the pain of losing him would scar me for far longer than I ever imagined. I’d search for him in every dark corner, chase his shadow, haunted by his ghost.

But today, I was in Nash Bishop’s bedroom. Not only was I in his room, but he had me pressed against his bed, the weight of him crushing me in the most delicious way as I lay beneath him. The scent of his cologne—a deep woodsy essence—mixed with the decadent aroma of my vanilla and orange blossom body wash was the perfect cocktail of sweet and musky, and had enveloped me in a haze of desire.

I died and went to heaven, or had recently passed out from the one shot of cheap tequila I’d taken, and was dreaming of the only thing I’d wished for that morning as I blew out the candles of the birthday cake my mama baked me—a pineapple upside down cake with a sweet cherry compote and vanilla buttercream. I could still taste the sweetness on my tongue. Or maybe that was just Nash.

Eighteen was supposed to be epic. Coming of age for a young woman at the beginning of adulthood and her road to freedom. Yet for me, eighteen was starting off just as every other year had. Nothing out of the ordinary.

That was until the moment my favorite brother Jameson came into my bedroom and woke me with the best news I’d ever heard.

“Nash said we could use the barn for your birthday party tonight.”

I was ecstatic. No, that wasn’t the right word. My entire existence now had a purpose—to make Nash Bishop mine.

The Barn, as it was known to all of Crossroads, was the party spot. Nestled in the woods behind the Bishops’ Ranch, it was the place to be every Friday night twelve months out of the year, and tonight, it was where my eighteenth birthday party was going to be held.

It took months of begging to convince not only my brother, but Nash—my brother’s best friend and the man of my dreams, whose family owned the property—to let me host my eighteenth birthday party at The Barn.

The two-story, nearly collapsing structure was nothing special. Dark red paint covered the weather rotted wood of the exterior, but inside, it was a teenager’s oasis. Nash’s oldest brother Monty had built a large wooden bar which covered the entire back wall, and kept it completely stocked, while the upstairs loft held a pool table, air hockey table and one of those foosball tables no one was ever really good at playing, yet they loved anyway. There were a few mismatched yet comfy leather couches in the living space, but most of the floor was left vacant for the raving dance parties that would take place every Friday night. Nash’s brother, Theo, was a musician—a pretty decent one too. He and his band would play on the small stage by the edge of the bar at every party and keep the crowd dancing to some good old country music for hours on end.

Nash and Monty decked out the place shortly after his senior year of high school. When their mother ran out on them, after falling in love with some outlaw who swept her off her feet as he passed through town. His father gave all her belongings to the boys to do with as they pleased. They of course sold them all—wanting nothing of sentiment from the woman who’d abandoned them—using the money and whatever other jobs they took around town to fund their various projects, The Barn being one of them.

At this point, I’d been in love with Nash for almost five years. I met the infamous fourth Bishop brother when I was thirteen and he was fifteen, the day he wandered into my living room soaked from the rainstorm thundering through all of North Carolina.

I loved him instantly. How could I not? Dark hair, deep mesmerizing eyes in a midnight blue—which made the stars in the sky look second-rate when you looked at him—and a smile that could wreck any saintly woman’s faith. He was perfect—except for the bad boy reputation he couldn’t shake off that loomed over him like a dark plague—but for me, Nash Bishop was it.

My lungs filled to the brim with air, almost painful as I held my breath, unable to move for fear it would break him out of whatever trance he was in. That's the only explanation for the position he had me in.

Especially after just a moment before, he’d sworn he had never, and would never, see me in that way. Not that my sudden brazenness, when I slipped the thin strap of my dress off my shoulder and let the sparkly fabric fall to my feet, had anything to do with his sudden eagerness to get his hands on me.

Nash’s gaze instantly fell to the glittering pink fabric pooled at my feet. For a moment, I believed he wouldn’t look up at me, that he would refuse to meet my gaze, but then suddenly, his eyes slowly trailed up my naked body—naked because I’d opted out of wearing anything under in case I found myself in this exact situation. A girl had to plan for the unexpected—even if this is exactly what I hoped for.

After my little party trick, he couldn’t refuse me any longer.

Nash crashed his lips to mine, and it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It was electrifying, yet it threatened to paralyze me. The urgency in his movement matched the need brewing inside me. He tasted like whiskey, cinnamon and a hint of tobacco—a decadent taste I knew at that moment I would crave for the rest of my life. In an instant, I’d become addicted—devastatingly obsessed with the feel of his mouth on mine. The way our tongues danced together to the same melody, following the same steps like it’s what they were meant to do.

Without thinking twice, I flung my arms around his neck and pulled him in closer, his hand falling to my ass and lifting me up as my legs wrapped around his waist like it was the most natural thing.

“Fuck, B,” he whispered against my lips, tugging the bottom one between his teeth. He let out a deep groan that sounded like he was in physical pain, and my heated center ached to feel him as I ground my hips against him, looking for any bit of friction. His thick erection pressed into me and the surge of energy which swept through me was an electric current of desire that almost took me out.

Nash wasted no time, his movements erratic as he led me further into his bedroom, my boots dangling behind his back as I kicked them off. We were in the backhouse he’d moved into, which was located toward the far corner of his family’s property, a mere hundred yards from The Barn and where the rest of my party, including my brothers, were currently dancing and drinking their asses off.

I silently prayed no one would come looking for me and interrupt this moment. Or at least that no one had seen me sneak out and follow Nash and had alerted one of my brothers.

Nash had caught my eye from across the room. Not that I’d ever stopped looking for him. It’s like whenever we were in the same room, my eyes always searched for him, unconsciously alert of his presence amongst the sea of people. He’d been drinking but didn’t look drunk, at least not as drunk as I’d seen him in the past with Jase.

I’d spotted him talking to Miranda Carraway, the beautiful, popular girl that was a year older than me but a year younger than him and Jase. She was the epitome of the kind of girl Nash went for. Gorgeous, dark hair and a body like a back-road, curved in all the right places. Miranda also had a peanut for a brain, and I’d witnessed over the years that’s exactly what Nash, and Jase, looked for in a girl.

Jealousy swirled inside me, making me all sorts of crazy, as I watched her rub his arm while she scooted in closer to whisper something in his ear. She twirled a strand of her dark hair between her fingers as her eyes fluttered closed in a sultry, yet meticulously plotted, way. At first, Nash seemed uninterested, but whatever she’d said to him made his eyes suddenly darkened with lust.

Though to my surprise, instead of taking her up on whatever she’d offered, he blew her off, stalked out of the barn and into the sultry summer night. That’s when I’d begun my plan to seduce him.

I let out a sharp shriek when we fell back onto his bed, his hands still gripping my ass so tight I feared his fingers had become imprinted on my flesh. Without warning, he flipped us so I was pinned beneath his weight, his thick erection pressing into me and letting me feel just how hard he was for me.

Nash was beautiful, but in the room's darkness, his silhouette lit up by nothing more than a dim lamp outside his window, he was entrancing. An alluring shadow of seduction, who looked down at me like I was the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on. I fell deeper and deeper for him, my lust and obsession growing into something so potent I needed to show him just how much I desired him.

Nash’s lips fell to my neck and traced circles along my heated, sweat covered skin. The Carolina heat was at its all-time highest tonight, but the warmth that surrounded us in this bedroom was damn near close to setting it ablaze.

“Bailey, I swear to God. Tell me to stop,” Nash begged, though the gravelly tone in his voice claimed the exact opposite. Calloused fingers continued to slowly trail up my thigh, inching closer and closer to the spot that ached for his touch. My breathing became unsteady, my soft pants the only thing heard in the otherwise silent room. I couldn’t keep still. The feel of his hands on me, his lips teasing me to the point I was a completely wired mess of nerves firing off at a rapid speed, was too difficult to contain.

I wiggled beneath him, and he groaned. His voice was deep, passionate, and slick with desire. It was a tone I would never get used to hearing. One I would never forget. Though as he spoke, I couldn’t see a damn thing. I’d kept my eyes closed for fear that if I’d opened them, I’d realize I was dreaming and he’d be gone.

After all, I dreamt for years of this exact moment. Played it over and over in my mind like a broken record. This fantasy—his hands on me, his mouth on mine, my name on his lips. There was no way in hell I would tell him to stop.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, trying my hardest to say something, anything, when all I could do was moan breathlessly. I’d become a complete mess from the sensation his mouth was giving me. Reaching for him, I got the courage to open my eyes as I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him back up to meet my gaze.

“Don’t Nash, I want this. I want you.”

I sounded so desperate, but Nash groaned in response equally so. It was a dark, menacing sound that made my entire body quiver with need. A need I never imagined would be so intense. It felt like my entire being would explode if he didn’t touch me.

His deft fingers moved quicker, edging closer to my pussy until they met the slick wetness pooled between my lips, but his eyes stayed on mine. They were so dark I could barely see the tint of blue lying within their depths.

“Fuck, baby. I can’t say no to you. I never could. But this Bailey, fuck, this is so wrong.”

“Nash, please,” I begged him, unable to truly ask him what I wanted. I prayed he’d have mercy on me. That he wouldn’t turn me away. I was so sick of his rejection. So tired of having to spend every waking moment thinking of him and for him to not even care I existed. I was willing to do whatever it took to ensure this would happen. I needed Nash Bishop to take my virginity more than I needed air to breathe. I was willingly giving him a part of me no one had ever before deserved. “I want it to be you.”

For a moment I regretted reminding him I’d asked him to deflower me, fearing he’d stop. But we were too far into it. I think nothing would have stopped us.

Sliding his fingers through my arousal, Nash slowly inserted one into my needy pussy, the feeling of him inside me so foreign, yet nothing had ever felt more perfect. My eyes fell shut again, unable to control the pleasure I felt.

“Fuck, B. You’re so fucking tight. If I put my cock inside of you, I might fucking die from dick suffocation.” I tried to laugh at the foolishness of his words, but as he curled his finger inside me, a desperate pant came out instead. “You want this, don’t you, pretty girl?” he asked, and I damn near melted right there and then.

“Aahh.” A desperate moan slipped out of me. I couldn’t speak, simply nodded as my pussy ached and hips ground against him, trying to force his finger deeper inside. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me. So perfect you might ruin me. If we do this, you have to promise me something. I need you to promise me, Bailey.”

“Anything,” I moaned, unable to even think, let alone agree, to whatever it was he was about to ask of me.

His free hand trailed up my naked body and cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line under my eye, urging me to look at him. I opened my eyes and stared up at him in the darkness, only a sliver of light reflecting off of him, yet it illuminated him in a perfect glow.

I looked straight into his eyes as he spoke. “Don’t you dare fall in love, B.”

I nearly gasped at the pain I felt hearing those words. Suffocated by their intention, I held back in fear of what my response might make him do. It hurt so much. What he made me promise that night broke something inside me. Here I was, in love with the guy I’d wanted to be mine for so long, and it’s the one thing he wanted me to promise not to feel. The threat of this being nothing more than a friend doing a favor—a one-time thing—felt all too real. I knew it’s what I’d signed up for when I’d taken my clothes off for him after he’d turned me away, but I could have never imagined it would hurt this badly to know I meant so little to him.

Not when he meant everything to me.

That night, as he made me the happiest I’d ever been in my entire life, he also broke my heart into a million pieces. A puzzle I knew would never again fit as perfectly as it once had. Especially not when he rode off into the night, taking with him a piece of my heart and kept it sewn onto the edge of his sleeve.

The last night I saw him, Nash Bishop made me promise not to fall in love. The problem was I'd already fallen.