Twenty-One
TWENTY-ONE
“So are we doing bonfire and beers at the beach tonight?” Malik comes walking into Hendrix’s house without any warning and I jump off the stool I sit perched on, screeching as I run to hide behind my tattooed wall of safety.
“Fucking christ, Mal. You really need to, oh I don’t know, ring the goddamn doorbell.” Hendrix shields my body, clad only in his white t-shirt and nothing else.
And when I say nothing else I mean nothing else. I’m positive my nipples peek through the thin fabric as does a hint of my bare ass.
“Why? I never have before. And if you didn’t want me to just walk straight in, you shouldn’t have given me your garage code.” He walks over to the island and pulls a banana from the bunch that sits in a bowl. “Hey Day. Can I call you Day? Kins said that I could.”
I peek my head out from behind Hendrix and tell him, “Hi. Uh, sure. Day is fine. It’s what most of my friends and family back home call me.”
“Cool. So I was thinking I’ll go grab the firewood and the stones we usually use are still in my garage. Danté said he–”
“Malik! Get the fuck out! Dagen needs to get dressed.” Hendrix’s hands are balled into fists and I can feel heat radiate off his back.
I’ve noticed that aside from being an asshole, Hendrix has a bit of a short fuse when it comes to things that anger him. It was evident after last night at the bar when he hauled off and punched a friend.
“It’s okay. Maybe you can just turn around or something, Malik.”
He shrugs and smiles as best as he can with half a banana shoved into his mouth, and turns his back to us. I make like a bullet and fire out of the kitchen so fast I’m sure Hendrix saw everything wiggle and jiggle as I went.
When I get to his room, I don’t bother putting on last night's clothes. Mostly because they’re dirty from laying in the dirt and mulch as Hendrix fucked the life out of me. Not to worry. He fucked it right back where it’s supposed to be in bed this morning.
I sort through my things to find my bra and slip on a pair of Hendrix’s sweatpants that I find sitting on a shelf in his closet. I roll the waist over and over until my feet stick out and I can walk without tripping. As I enter the main living space again, I can hear Hendrix and Malik talking, so I plaster myself against the hallway and eavesdrop on their conversation.
“What were you thinking, punching Paolo like that? You know he’s not a bad guy. He wouldn’t have made the moves on Dagen.”
“I know I shouldn’t have. It was really Danté I wanted to punch but since I couldn't, the poor guy was the unlucky recipient of my wrath.”
“What’s his deal, anyhow? He’s been a motherfucker even more than usual,” Malik asks.
“He’s still pissed about the whole darts and Dagen incident. I thought everything was cool yesterday when he called to tell me to meet y’all at the bar, but apparently it was just a bunch of shit. He knew exactly what to say to set me off. Especially seeing that I was already a hair trigger when I saw Paolo’s hands on her.”
They grow silent and I’m just about to make my presence known when Malik speaks up.
“You like her.”
“Yeah. She’s a cool chick and hot as fuck. What’s not to like?”
A small laugh accompanies Malik’s next words. “Nah, man. I mean, you like Dagen. Enough to want to tie her up in your basement and keep her here.”
I think about being bound and what Hendrix would do to me. It’s another one of my worst nightmares and greatest fantasies come to life. My body restrained while Hendrix has his way with me. It’s a thought that shocks me at how much I want it.
When Hendrix doesn’t respond I walk a little harder than necessary, slapping my feet on the tile to warn them I’m returning.
“Now that I’m dressed, I think we can have a proper conversation. So what was that you were saying about beer, beach and bonfire?” Malik’s big, bright smile is wide and infectious.
He palms an apple, tossing it up in the air and catching it like Uncle Phoenix does with baseballs.
“That’s right sweetheart. I think it’s time you experience a Dare Night. You’ll have fun.” He takes a large bite out of the apple, crunching it.
“Do you not have food at your own fucking house?” Hendrix yanks the fruit bowl away from him and sets it down on the opposite counter. “It’s not going to be a normal Dare Night. Right Mal?”
Malik’s eyes volley between mine and Hendrix like one of us will tell him the correct thing to say. “I mean…maybe?”
“No. The correct word you’re looking for is no.” Hendrix’s voice is stern and leaves no room for debate.
“Well wait. I want to know more about Dare Night. Is it anything like the game we played, Hendrix?” Malik snorts, choking on his apple as bits fly out.
Hendrix’s face pales and I give myself an internal pat on the back for stunning him into silence. I get the feeling that not many people are able to one up this man.
“I just need to know if I should wear something better to protect my ba–” Hendrix dives over the counter and slaps his hand over my mouth.
Apparently Mr. Dare doesn’t like even his brothers knowing about his proclivities. Or he’s trying to save me from some type of inquisition from Malik that may end up in fists flying like last night. I stick my tongue out and lick his palm and when he doesn’t remove his hand, I lick again.
“Quit you little brat. Do you want Mal knowing all the details about how you got those scratches on your back?” I immediately stop with the tongue bath I’m giving his hand. “That’s what I thought.”
Malik continues to watch our interaction as he wipes away the spittle that landed all over his black t-shirt. When Hendrix slowly drops his hand and arches his brow at me, I challenge him with one of my own.
“What should I wear to this beer, beach and bonfire night? Is there a dress code I need to adhere to?”
“Nope. But I would suggest you bring a sweatshirt. It can get chilly even with the fire. Other than that, just wear that pretty smile of yours.” Hendrix groans and rolls his eyes and it makes me laugh.
He really is a grump. No one is spared from his sour mood. He makes it clear that he doesn’t want to continue our conversation when he grabs Malik by the shoulders and steers him towards the door he came in from.
“See you tonight, Malik.”
“Bye Day,” he sings and it echoes through the house.
When the door is closed, Hendrix struts back into the kitchen and damn does he strut good. Defined, well toned chest and abs covered in beautiful art and his black boxer briefs sitting low on his hips, just on the border of obscene.
“You’re gonna get it,” he warns.
“Well I would surely hope so.” I smirk and watch his eyes turn a torrential shade of blue.
With a wink, I sprint up the stairs rushing for my room. I don’t really try too hard to not get caught. After all, it’s the thrill of the chase.
We pull up to the beachside parking lot on Hendrix’s bike and he comes to a stop. I’m almost a little sad that our ride is over. I don’t have an excuse to have my arms wrapped around him in public when we’re not on his bike.
After climbing off and peeling out of our gear, we walk down to the beach side by side. I want so desperately to reach out and hold his hand, but I don’t think he’s the holding hands with a girl type. So I keep my hands tucked into my pockets and let the most touching we do be our arms rubbing against each other.
As we get closer to the group of people gathered around the bonfire, we hear loud laughter and music playing. I scan the group, hoping and praying that Kinsley has come because I really need back up for tonight.
“Day! You made it.” Malik calls out from where he stands with a few girls.
They all turn their heads towards us and Malik leaps over a couple of people seated in the sand. He jogs over and inserts himself between Hendrix and I, throwing an arm around each of us.
“You’re just on time. We’re just about to start the dance party.” Hendrix bats his hand at Malik, smacking him in the chest.
“No dance party, no dares. Just a chill evening on the beach. Got it?”
Malik sticks his tongue out and jacks his hand. “Such a spoilsport. Remember when you used to be fun?”
“No,” Hendrix answers, curtly.
“Yeah, me neither. Hey everyone! This is Dagen. My new best friend.”
I spend the first several minutes being dragged around and introduced to various people whom I will definitely not remember their name. When they ask if I live in Cattywump Bay, Hendrix tells them I’m visiting then moves me right along.
At one point I ask about Kinsley’s whereabouts and am told that she’ll be joining as soon as she’s done with the work she hasn’t been doing since I crashed into town. Chairs get opened up along with blankets that get spread out, and I’m handed a beer from one of the guys that rides with the Dare brothers.
I think about the fact that there is one person in particular missing just as a deep voice laced with venom speaks up.
“Well look at that. If it isn't Henny and his new gal. How’s it going, Dagen?” Danté slithers up to me and places a hand on my shoulder before squatting down to my level where I sit. “Hey, I want to apologize. I tend to push people’s buttons a lot, and I think I pressed too many of Henny’s last night. I don’t like fighting with my brothers and I certainly don’t like making pretty girls sad. Forgive me?” He smiles with a wicked gleam and the roaring fire behind him seems to be very fitting.
I’m not a person known to hold on to grudges with both hands. My parents have always taught me to give second chances when they’re due. I’ve always tried to live by that. So I’d be a hypocrite if I turned a cheek to Danté knowing I would encourage someone to put discretions aside and forgive.
“Of course. I’m sure you were just looking out for your brother,” I tell him and he glides his hand down my arm and stops when he reaches my hand.
“Actually dollface, I was looking out for you. Us Dare Bros are nothing but trouble. The last thing you need is to get twisted up with one of us. We’ll only bring you down.” He lifts a hand and taps the underside of my chin. “Can we let bygones be bygones?”
I pass him a small smile and agree. “Sure.”
He jumps to his feet. “Alright. Now that we’re all friends, how about we get the Dare games started now that the devil himself has arrived.”
The group cheers and I feel the heat of Hendrix’s stare on my face.
“We aren’t playing,” he tells me very matter of factly when I look at him.
“Why not? If everyone else gets to, why can’t we?”
He grows agitated and leans in close to me. “Please just trust me.”
I’ve known this man for a whole seven days and he thinks he can tell me what to do? My mom and aunts raised a free-thinking, independent woman and I’m not about to bow down now.
“I’m playing, so let’s go.” Hendrix’s eyes fill with fire and I turn away, not really caring how he feels.
The night really just starts out as drinking games, many that I’ve never heard of. Pizza box was the first game where everyone wrote their name on a box –in this case an empty beer case– and drew a circle around it. One person tossed a quarter and the name it landed on had to take a shot. Then that person threw a quarter and it continued until everyone was pretty knackered. Luckily I only got saddled with two shots. No surprise, the grumpy old man Hendrix didn’t play.
Next we played Thumper, which required one player to continuously make some type of hand motion or tick. When a person picked up on it, they took a swig of their drink each time the motion was repeated. This had people tapping out.
After that, things turned a bit racier. One person was dared to jump over the fire pit. Thankfully he avoided catching fire. Malik was dared to run naked into the ocean and while I tried to redirect my attention, I admit to taking a small peek. Not even a little guilty that I did.
Now I sit close to Hendrix who has participated in nothing to do with drinking, sipping on a beer of my own.
“Henny,” a girl who is quite inebriated and wearing the smallest shorts known to man, calls out from across the fire. “I dare you to play the game with us.”
He sighs and leans back into his chair, throwing his arm over the back of my chair. “Fine. I’ll play your fucking game but no drinking. I’m on my bike with Dagen.”
The woman gets a sly smirk on her face as does Danté who sits next to her.
“Good. First dare…I dare you to kiss me.”
Hendrix rolls his eyes. “I’m not doing that, Soria.”
“Why not? It’s not like you haven’t done it before,” she purrs, obviously trying to make me jealous.
“Henny, you gotta take the dare. Otherwise, you know what happens next.” Danté lifts his beer to his pink lips and throws back a swig.
“Kiss her. Kiss her,” the group starts chanting.
Everyone, but Malik.
“That’s a lame dare. We’re not thirteen anymore.”
Soria –as I have come to learn is her name– slinks her way over to us and stops directly in front of Hendrix’s chair. I see his jaw clench with tension and his nostrils flare.
“Exactly. Which is why this isn’t a typical kiss.”
“Bro,” Malik says, a little bit of torture in his voice. “Just do it. You don’t want the alternative.”
Hendrix looks from Malik to me to Soria, his chest heaving and teeth grinding together. He lowers his head, exhaling a defeated breath, then lifts it to look up at Soria. Once his attention is fully on her, she begins to roll up the t-shirt that is suctioned to her body, exposing her flat stomach inked with a dragon that wraps around her torso.
I swallow down a lump of anxiety as I continue to watch them. Next she unbuttons her shorts and pulls them open, just enough to hint at the ladybug tattoo that sits just above her pubic bone.
“Lick it,” she purrs.
“You said kiss, Soria,” Hendrix protests.
“Kiss the ladybug, then lick your way and kiss Falkors face.” I presume her tattooed dragon is Falkor and I think it’s a bit pathetic she named it, but whatever.
Hendrix’s eyes close in agony and I wait for him to refuse. In my head I’m begging him to say no and take whatever consequence they’ll dole out.
But against my silent pleas, he leans forward and places a chaste kiss on her small tattoo, getting dangerously close to a place that should only be explored in private, and licks all the way up her lower abdomen, up her ribs, and stopping at the dragon’s head that sits just below her breast. My stomach turns with jealousy and I simply cannot stand to watch one more second.
I stand up abruptly, dropping my beer to the powdery sand, and stomp off towards the wooden boardwalk that leads back to the parking lot, far from the watching eyes of the people enjoying their gluttonous pleasures.
My eyes sting and I work hard to ward off the tears that threaten to fall. This is stupid. He’s not my boyfriend, he’s not my anything. I have no right to feel any sort of possession over him.
I prop my hands on my hips and take deep breaths, working to calm myself down. I look like a fool and there is no way in hell I’m walking back down to that beach to sit and act like I didn’t just stomp off like a child who was told no by her dad. I search for my phone in the front pocket of Hendrix’s hoodie and pull it out.
My only chance at getting away from here is Kinsley. I feel bad for relying on her so much over the last week, but this genius forgot to get the actual address of Hendrix’s house, so getting an Uber isn’t going to be an option.
I open my phone and pull up her number, but just before I touch her name, my name is shouted out behind me.
“Dagen!” I look over my shoulder to see Hendrix jogging up the wooden bridge.
I turn my face away and let my shaky thumb hover over the phone screen.
“Don’t act like you didn’t see me. I saw your big greens.” He walks up behind me, the heat of his body warming my back, but I don’t turn around or acknowledge him. “Stop it you little brat. Look at me.”
My head whips around and anger washes over my face. “Do not tell me what to do. I’m not your dog, your friend or your girl.”
“Then why the fuck did you march off like a jealous girlfriend?” He bellows.
“Because…because I didn’t want to sit there and watch the guy who was kissing me just this afternoon lick the body of one of his previous conquests.”
Hendrix hangs his head and his shoulders rise and fall with exaggerated sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, why’d you do it!” My arms wave in the air and my voice begins to turn up an octave.
“Because it was better than the alternative.”
I roll my eyes with a scoff. “Oh yeah, sure. What, were they going to make you sing and dance like a chicken? Poor Henny.”
“No, it wouldn’t have been anything embarrassing. The alternative would have been to give you to one of the guys. If you bring a date to the bonfire and pass on a dare, you forfeit your date. It’s the only reason why I slept with Soria.”
I let all of what he just said process and it just seems totally unbelievable. Too ridiculous to be true.
“What a crock of bullshit. You really expect me to believe that?”
“Go ask Malik if you don’t believe me. Call Kinsley. She’ll tell you the truth. She knows what goes on down here. She never plays, but she’s witnessed it all.”
I stand there with narrowed eyes and my phone clenched tightly in my hand.
Hendrix pulls out his phone and taps the screen. A loud ring sounds from the speaker and I wait to see who picks up the other end.
The ringing stops and the sweetest southern voice booms. “For cryin’ out loud, I’ll be there soon.”
“Kins. What happens when you pass on a dare?” Hendrix asks, wasting no time with pleasantries.
“Wha–why? Am I on speaker?”
“Just say it. Please Kinsley. If you say no to dare, what happens next?”
The phone is silent for a beat then Kinsley says, “You have to pass off your date. Man or woman, you hand them over to someone of their choice.”
My mouth drops as does my stomach. “Thanks. See you later.”
“But wait. W–” Hendrix cuts her off by ending the call and slipping the phone back into his pocket.
“Believe me now?”
I cross my arms over my chest to stop my hands from trembling.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re just fucking anyhow, remember?” I flip my head away, but it’s quickly returned to face Hendrix once again.
“Cut that shit out, Dagen.” My cheeks are squeezed in his grip and if I thought his eyes were stormy before, they're a full on cyclone now. “I already told you I didn’t mean it. I just did that to get Danté off my back.”
He drops his hands and I throw mine up. “Then what are we?”
“I don’t know!” We shout at one another like two lovers caught in a quarrel, drawing the attention of everyone in earshot.
We’re in a standoff, waiting for the other to make the first move, whatever that may be. My body tingles while his eyes drink me in. With the passing of another tense moment, we both lunge and grab for each other. Our lips crash and our hands feel their way around like a blind person trying to make sense of what lies beneath them.
Hendrix circles his hands around my waist and boosts me up, my legs immediately wrapping around him. I feel his fingers dig into my ass and he groans into my mouth. I’m so wet right now that if I stood up, I’m sure it would puddle to the ground.
He rips his lips away from mine and pants, “Get that fucking helmet on your head now.”
Still in his strong hold, he removes me from clinging to him, sets me on his bike and tosses the helmet at me. He yanks his off the handle it hangs from and tugs it on, then quickly shoves his arms into his jacket like it pissed him off.
With the pop of his clutch and push of a button, his bike fires up and we’re peeling out of the parking lot with a screech and trail of dust.
I look over my shoulder and see the faces of those still on the beach. I can’t make out any of their expressions, but some of the men have their hands raised in victory. Danté is not one of them.
I’m over what he thinks of me. Right now I’m on fire and only Hendrix can cool the flames.