Chapter Nine - 9. The Dare
CHAPTER NINE
The Dare
I groaned, but obeyed.
Taylor sat down beside me, making the mattress dip. He rubbed the side of his face as he drank from his own bottle.
“I think showering is a good idea,” he said.
“I’m too lazy.” I sat up and looked at him. “Will you wash me?”
He nodded like it was the most normal question in the world.
We made it into the shower and maybe the hot water did help sober me up, because halfway through, I felt self-conscious about the fact I had Taylor scrubbing my arms. I told him I could handle the rest and he let go silently.
He finished first, leaving the shower, and I came out a few minutes later, wrapped in a towel and finding him in my room, the lights off except for the lamp on the nightstand.
He sat by the headboard and I flopped down beside him. His hand stroked my back, a ticklish sensation that made me shiver. His eyes were dark and gooey, like melted chocolate.
“Do you think I’m handsome?” I asked.
He hummed, drawing shapes over my shoulder blades. “Maybe.”
“You were way more honest fifteen minutes ago. You’re sobering up.”
“I’m not dishonest,” he said, but his face twitched.
I sat up. “You know what we should play? Truth or dare. And you’re not allowed to lie.”
“Isn’t that the point of the game?”
“Some people probably still lie anyway. But not us, okay? You’re not allowed to lie.”
“Fine,” he sighed.
“We don’t have to play, if you don’t want to.”
“I’ll play,” he said, sounding firm.
“Truth or dare?” I said.
“Truth.”
I smiled. “Do you think I’m handsome?”
He shoved me lightly. “I don’t know why you’re wasting a question on something so obvious. Yes, Archie, I do. I want you all the time. You’ve seen me — ” he gestured to his towel-covered lap, then clamped his jaw shut. “My turn. Truth or dare,” he said, a moment later.
“Truth,” I said with a shrug.
“Do you think I’m handsome?”
“You’re such a hypocrite!”
Taylor rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips turned up. “Answer the question.”
“Prettiest girl on campus, remember?”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Taylor said, but his cheeks went the slightest shade of pink, the only sign he was still a bit tipsy.
“Truth or dare,” I asked.
“Truth.”
I hesitated. But wasn’t this the perfect opportunity to ask all the things I wanted to ask?
“Do you…think about your sexuality much?”
He cocked his head. “Like whether I’m bi or gay or something?”
I nodded.
He shrugged. “Not really. Why does it matter? I like you. You happen to be a guy.” He shrugged again.
“But don’t you ever think about people finding out? Like friends or your family?”
“I don’t care what randoms think.”
“Your family aren’t randoms,” I pointed out.
“I don’t care about their opinion, except Hazel’s, and she’s too young to be a bigot. And if a friend had a problem, then they’re clearly not a friend.”
He made it sound all so simple.
“Why?” Taylor asked. “Is it something you think about?”
“Not really.” I didn’t spend much time introspecting. “What that froyo girl said about us being boyfriends made me think about it.”
“And?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Well, it wasn’t a big deal, was it? Not a big deal at all.”
Taylor was watching me closely, his face unreadable. He opened his mouth, and I thought he’d keep talking about it, but instead, he said, “truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Would you be in a relationship with a guy?”
I blinked. “Sure. This is the question?”
“You’re not worried about being judged?”
“I don’t care what randoms think,” I said, echoing his words. I was definitely still a bit tipsy, because I sounded way more confident than usual. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Someone has to choose dare at some point.”
“Yeah, you can. I’m choosing truth.”
I sighed, taking a moment to think of a question. “Do you ever dream about me?”
“Yes. Truth or dare?”
“Hang on,” I said, gripping his knees. “You can’t just move on from that. What kind of dreams?” I wiggled my brows. “Wet dreams? Nightmares?”
“If you want to know, ask me next time. Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” I said.
“Were you serious about inviting me to the ball as your date?” Taylor didn’t blink.
I laughed nervously. “The correct term is plus-one,” I said. “And yeah, sure. Why not?” I shrugged, forcing myself to look more nonchalant than I felt. “Truth or dare?”
He took a moment to respond. “Dare.”
“You just don’t want to answer the dream question,” I accused.
“You feature in all my nightmares,” he said flatly.
“For that, I’m going to give you an awful dare.” I tapped my finger against my chin, then perked up. “I dare you to kiss your favourite part of my body.”
“That’s your idea of an awful dare?” Taylor asked, but before I could respond, he had reached for my hips. He rolled me over, and, towel barely covering my lower half, leaned down and planted his lips on the curve of my ass.
I laughed. That was predictable.
“Okay—” I began, but then he turned me around, pushed the corner of the towel to the side, and kissed the inside of my thighs. Then my front, lips brushing the white Terry cloth, and I swear I could feel his breath over my hardening dick.
His mouth moved upwards. He kissed my belly, my sternum, my chest, my neck. When he kissed my mouth, I parted my lips, wanting to deepen it, but he moved on, his lips brushing over my eyelids.
“When I said favourite,” I managed, “I meant one thing. Your number one favourite.”
“They’re all my favourite,” he said.
“You have to choose.”
“I can’t.”
“Why do you like me so much?” I tried to joke, sort of like, why are you so obsessed with me? But my words came out painfully genuine.
“I don’t know.” He met my gaze looking helpless, even confused. “I can’t help it. It’s not rational. It’s not conscious. If I could cut it out, I would.”
My chest hurt. It was like I’d been punched. Or someone had reached in between my ribs and squeezed my bloody heart.
“Really?” My voice was barely a breath.
“Wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t think it would be that bad,” I said, as if liking him was a hypothetical scenario, as if I was just speculating. “I think it would make me happy.”
Taylor’s lips twisted. I wanted to smooth his mouth into a smile. Kiss it, maybe, or make him laugh.
“My turn,” he said. His thumb rubbed over my hip bone. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” I said.
His hand trailed down. My dick was straining against the towel, wanting more of his touch.
“We’re going to have sex.”
I nodded, unsure if it was a question, if that was the dare.
“Kiss,” he continued, “where on me you’d like to come.”
I stared at him for a moment. “What?”
He didn’t bother repeating himself. He knew I’d heard.
“Wherever I’d like?” I asked.
He nodded. “Where you want to.” The implication was clear: it didn’t mean he would let me. He just wanted to know. It would be embarrassing to share it with him, but he had that serious look in his eyes, the look he got when he was focused and aroused.
“Take the towel off,” I said.
He did, taking his time to fold it into a square, like his cock wasn’t hard and flushed, pointing up towards one hip. I moved closer and pushed him down so he was on his back, hovering over him.
His face was as composed as ever, but I sensed a hitch in his breathing.
I kissed him on the mouth, tongue wet against his, feeling his sharp inhale.
His lips moved in the shape of a word, but instead of letting him speak, I moved on, kissing his cheeks and his chin and his forehead and the bridge of his nose.
When I pulled back, his eyes were glassy. “My face,” he said, voice rough. “Really?”
I was too far gone to be embarrassed. “Maybe. If you let me.”
The words hung in the air, and I suddenly felt restless. “My turn,” I said, to cut the tension. “Truth or dare.”
His response was immediate. “Dare.”
“Kiss me where you want to come.” Maybe it was cheating, copying him, but if Taylor thought so, he didn’t say anything.
He rolled me over like I was his puppet, shoving my towel out of the way, warm hands cupping my ass.
I felt the whisper of his exhale, making the hair at the back of my neck prick up, my insides go tight with anticipation, and his nose nudged my crack as he pressed a kiss right over my entrance.
I twitched. “There?” I sounded breathless.
“Mm-hmm.”
“You already do,” I pointed out.
“It would be different. I’d do it without a condom. I want to see it drip out of you.”
I smooshed my face into a pillow. Not for the first time, I wondered how long it would take to get our results back from the clinic. We’d been waiting for what felt like forever.
Taylor breathed out, warm against my sensitive skin, and because we were alone, the curtains drawn, no one in the world knowing what we were up to, I canted my hips back. Once. Twice.
He let out a low laugh, one thumb digging into a cheek and spreading, exposing the seam, exposing the hole.
His laugh cut short.
I froze. “What?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He swallowed audibly. “I’m just staring.”
I flushed, trying to clamp my legs shut. “This was a stupid idea.”
“No,” he said, stopping me, hands so tight on my thighs that there was a high possibility he’d leave bruises. Not that I’d mind. “It’s so hot, looking at you like this.”
“Please stop looking,” I mumbled into the pillow, “and start —”
“Kissing?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. If you’d like to.”
“So polite,” he said, and kissed there again. I sank into the sensation. Then there was something warm and wet.
“Is that okay?” Taylor asked, pulling back, but it felt like his voice was vibrating through my skin.
I nodded into the pillow, realised that might not have been clear enough, and said, “yeah. Is it — are you okay doing it?”
“Oh my god, Archie,” he said in a tone that was the verbal equivalent of an eye roll, and the next second, he licked a stripe over me, leaving me tingling.
He licked again, and again, then kissed, then pressed the point of his tongue, and my legs twitched so uncontrollably, that he used his hands to pin them down, fingers digging into the flesh right above my knees, keeping me still.
I moaned softly into the pillow, which was turning damp with my exhales.
“Do you want my tongue inside?” Taylor asked.
“Yes,” I weeped. “Please.”
He let go of my legs to spread my ass, completely exposing me, his breath hot against my hole. When he pushed his tongue inside, I shuddered against the bed, squeezing my eyes tight.
“More,” I said, twitching my hips backwards.
A finger replaced his tongue. He stretched me out, added a second digit, and when I was mumbling incoherently, begging for him, he leaned over me and grabbed a condom from the bedside table drawer.
There was the tear of foil, and then he pressed into me. I let out a quiet, pleased, “oh.”
He cursed under his breath as he stretched out over me, his legs bracketing mine, and kissed the back of my neck, my hair, behind the shell of my left ear.
“Do I feel good?” I asked.
“Yes.” He sounded broken.
He drew his hips back, then thrust forward, pushing me across the mattress. I curled my fingers into the bedsheets, trying to get a hold of it — and myself.
“Taylor,” I whimpered.
“Look at me,” he ground out.
I blinked at him over my shoulder, unsure what my face was doing, but it was probably a red, sweaty, bleary-eyed mess. He was panting, open mouthed, his chest gleaming with sweat.
“I’m going to —” he choked out.
I bucked my hips, my dick rubbing against the folds of cotton. “Please — touch —”
He flattened himself on top of me, skin damp and hot, a hand curling around my front. Just one touch, one stroke, and my entire body tightened as I came, feeling dizzy and high, barely aware of Taylor’s groan against my back and his body shuddering on top of me.
Later, I rolled over. Taylor had his legs over the side of the bed. He yanked off the condom and looked at me, and my abs, and the wet spot. “What a fucking mess.”
I ran a finger through the white on my tummy and brushed it over Taylor’s cheek like it was war paint.
He stared at me. “Are you still drunk?”
“Maybe,” I said. Not really, I thought.
I dipped another finger into the mess on me, hovered it in front of Taylor. “This is where I wanted it,” I said.
His eyes flickered, a silent go ahead. I smeared it on his bottom lip and his tongue came out and curled around my finger, sending electricity through my spine, straight to my wrung-out cock.
Are we disgusting? I thought about saying.
You wouldn’t do that for just anyone, I thought. Only for me. Right?