Chapter 27
twenty-seven
ROSE
After the conversation yesterday and my inability to find anything, even a misplaced file, I’ve been reeling. Could my dad have lied? I don’t even know how to handle that thought, because if it’s true, why?
Nothing is adding up, but maybe that’s the point. Maybe Dare’s whole game is to get inside my head and make me question my entire life.
Sighing, I turn off the shower, before I waste too much water, and grab a towel. I’m so lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice Dare waiting for me when I walk into the bedroom. He catches me, placing his hand dangerously low on my stomach, only the towel keeping his touch from scorching my skin. Awareness zings through my body, but I grit my teeth and stay strong, even as he pulls me closer, rubbing his thick length against my ass.
“I want to be inside of you, Rose.” His hand starts to slide lower .
My stomach flips, and I grab his wrist, stopping his descent. “No.”
“Who are you punishing? Me or yourself?”
I look at him over my shoulder. “You can’t use sex to distract me.”
His eyes glint with challenge. Suddenly, I’m pressed against the wall with my arms over my head and Dare’s hips pinning me. He presses against me and simply watches my reaction.
I try to keep the desire hidden, but I must do a terrible job because he rocks his cock against me, only the towel and his thin sleeping pants to keep me from enjoying the heat of his body. The hold on my wrists is gentle but firm. I take a breath to steady my racing heart, but he’s so close. His lips drag along my cheek. My teeth bite into my bottom lip as heat pools in my core.
“There she is,” he purrs into my ear, rocking himself against me.
“Dare,” I rasp, trying to find the last scrap of sanity to tell him no.
His lips brush over mine, a cruelly soft caress. “Wife.”
My cunt clamps around nothing and my body practically burns in protest. A scorching inferno of need. I should tell him no. I can’t give in.
Dare rubs against me again, kissing me until I part my lips and his tongue lashes against mine. I sigh into his mouth, finally relenting, but then he stops. He pulls back. Releases my wrists. Walks away and slams the bathroom door.
A heavy breath whooshes out of me. What the fuck was that?
I cross the room, ready to kick the door in and demand he finish what he started. That’s what he wants .
The thought hits me like a bag of bricks.
Dammit.
Pausing right before the door, I seethe, clenching my fists at my side and hating that, once again, he’s nearly pushed me to the point of losing control. It takes twenty breaths to calm down. With a scowl on my face, I grab the closest dress and tug it on. The kitten heels are right in front of me, so I grab those too, turning to escape before Dare finishes, but he’s standing in the threshold, a towel around his waist and water rolling down every hard plane of his body.
My throat goes dry, and I clutch the heels to my chest like a shield.
Dare’s head is dipped low as he peers up at me, eyes blazing and hungry. I bet if that towel fluttered to the floor, he’d be as hard as a rock. That’s none of my concern. Tipping my chin, I head toward where he stands. If I thought he was still before, the way his body goes unnaturally still now reminds me of a predator.
Warning bells go off inside my head, but I keep walking. I can’t let him know how much he affects me. I have to get the upper hand. So, I stop before him, batting my eyelashes and running my palm up his leg to cup his cock.
Hard as a rock.
Thick.
Pulsing.
Mine.
My own thighs press together, but my resolve never wavers. “There he is,” I purr, squeezing hard enough that he grunts. The sound curls my lips. I brush my nose over his and release him. “Be a good husband and hurry up. I don’t want to be late.” And on shaking legs, I leave.
For the next two weeks, Dare and I continue the dangerous dance, both of us coming closer and closer to crossing the line.
The news of Eric falling overboard his expensive yacht broke the same week the news of our wedding did. No one seemed to question what happened to Eric, and I’ve been avoiding social media and calls from old friends trying to get the inside scoop. I learned the hard way to never trust someone who randomly slides in and claims to be your bestie.
Everyone is a vulture when it comes to news like this.
Dare’s employees openly stare when he and I are together, but I can’t blame them. Our marriage was the last thing anyone expected. Most of my time is spent at Vista Holdings, save for the gym, the grand opening of Futurum, and a few important meetings for JD Miller my attention has been a little divided.
Dad stops beside our table. “Rosalynn.”
I beam at him. “Dad. Hi.” As I start to rise to give him a hug, he holds up his hand to stop me. A frown flickers across my face, but I quickly hide the disappointment.
Dare narrows his eyes at me.
“Why am I not surprised you two found out about this place?” Dad shoots Dare an annoyed look.
“When I heard you funded a restaurant, I knew I had to check it out.”
“This place is yours?” I glance around again. Dad has never talked about a restaurant. It’s not in the business model. It’s not even in the financial realm. And, all things considered, restaurants usually aren’t a good investment. Not to mention, if he funded it, the restaurant had to have months of construction to open.
Why would he keep that from me?
A knife of betrayal embeds in my back, right alongside the others he’s placed there in the last month alone. Eric. The marriage. Now this?
Dad sighs. “I emailed you about it, but it appears you’ve been too busy.”
I bite my tongue. There was never an email. While I have been at Vista Holdings more than JD Miller & Co lately, this was the agreement. He knows why I’ve been busy. The words are meant to shame me in front of his companion and Dare.
“Who’s your little friend?” Dare asks, taking a sip of his water and grinning as the man bristles.
Dad’s jaw clenches. “This is John Yornson, the head chef.”
“The judge’s son?” My gaze slips over the man again. Funding a judge’s son’s restaurant is...a decision. Dad does nothing without motivation. Is he being sued? Is the company? Would he really try to influence a judge? My eyes move back to Dad. He gives me nothing but an accusing look, as if I’m the one keeping secrets.
“Enjoy your lunch.” Dad turns and leads John away.
Dare watches me watch them walk away. Once they take their seats, my attention slices in his direction. “What the fuck was that?” I snap. “You could have warned me.”
“Would you have believed me?” he asks.
Probably not. Huffing, I ignore him and stew in my frustration, pushing food around my plate. Dare only lets the silence last for so long.
“I’ve been invited to a holiday party. Will you come with me?”
“You’re not going to talk shit about what happened?”
“Do you want me to?” he asks.
Sighing, I shake my head. “Sometimes I don’t understand you. You brought me here because you wanted me to know. Do you really expect me to think that’s the end of whatever game you’re playing now?”
Dare lifts a shoulder. “Believe what you want, but you haven’t answered my question.”
It’s the middle of November. So much time has passed already. Two-and-a-half months are all I have left before Dad disinherits me. I’ve been working hard to find something, but the truth is, I’m not so sure there’s anything to find.
Dad is keeping secrets. Maybe this stuff with Dare is another one. Anxiety rolls over me, and I struggle to keep my fluttering heart from bursting out of my chest as I breathe through clenched teeth. I don’t know what to feel. I’m not sure if I’m mad or sad or offended or...thoroughly confused.
Dare clears his throat. “The party. Will you come with me?”
Sighing, I pick up my glass and take a sip, but the water does nothing to wash away the ash of lies on my tongue. “Do I have a choice?”
“Yes.”
My dad’s attention lands on me like a heavy weight. I fight the urge to glance over, to check to see how mad he is, to evaluate and try to get inside his head. Dare observes my struggle with an impassive face.
A holiday party isn’t treason.
With our marriage, people will expect us to be together. The last thing either of us needs is an exposé in some magazine going on about trouble in paradise. And maybe, just maybe, a little part of me wants to really piss my dad off.
“When is it?”
“Saturday. Tomorrow night.”
“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll go shopping. ”
“I bought you a dress, since it’s last minute.”
I squint. “You didn’t even know I’d say yes.”
Dare smirks. “I took a chance.”
“I’m not going to let you tell me what to wear.”
He chuckles and sets his glass down, looking me straight in the eye. “I don’t really care what you wear, Rose, because at the end of the night, I’m going to take it off.”
“Like hell.”
“The lady doth protest too much.”
“Don’t quote Shakespeare to me.”
“Oh, good. We’re back to you telling me what to do.”
I take a breath. “You’re so annoying.”
Dare simply grins. My lips twitch, but the awareness of my dad watching keeps them pursed.
He shakes his head. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?” I snap.
“Letting him control you.”
A heavy breath rushes out of me, but I can’t even deny it, because Dare is right. And for the first time ever, I’m disgusted with myself.