Chapter 2 #2
I give myself a once-over in the mirror. I look good, better than I have in a long time. Not just physically. I look… alive. Best of all is that spark in my eyes. It reminds me of my old self.
I set my dress and shoes to the side and head back outside.
The first thing I notice is that Mr. Wicked is sitting on the edge of the hot tub, now wearing a pair of black swim shorts.
My eyes drag over the carved slopes of his muscular body, tracing the inky tattoos on his chest and arms.
Christ, he’s ripped. Every muscle is cut sharp enough to hurt.
Water slides down his legs in lazy paths, over more ink and muscle. I know I’m shamelessly staring, but no more than he is with me.
He looks at me as if I’m his last meal being served on a platter. The intensity of his gaze sends a wave of heat, cascading through my body.
“There she is,” he mutters, gazing at me with appreciation.
I walk up to the hot tub and step down. I lower myself into the water slowly, one step at a time, until the water is lapping at my thighs.
He lowers himself, too, as I settle in. The warm water wraps around me, rolling over my skin.
I finally meet his gaze. He seems proud, proud that he got me in here. Like getting me in his hot tub was always the plan. I suspect it was.
“What next?” I ask, trying to keep my nerves under control.
“More dares.”
“Okay.”
I look around and realize the bartender’s gone, so we’re alone. Mr. Wicked seems to clock my realization, and his stare sharpens with something darker. No longer curious, no longer polite. Possessive.
“Your turn.” He leans against the tub edge, his arms spreading on either side.
Here’s where I can be clever. “I dare you to answer some questions.”
“Nice move.” He tips his head. “I accept, but only if I can dare you to answer some questions, too.”
“I accept. Four each?”
“Agreed. Fire away.” He borrows my words again.
“How old are you?”
“Thirty. And you’re what, twenty-one?” He cocks his head and gives me a boyish smirk. “Please tell me you’re legal.”
I find myself laughing. “I’m twenty-six.”
“You look younger.”
“Thank you. So do you.”
“Your turn again, Butterfly.”
I don’t know why, but I like the nickname. It seems to be growing on me.
His gaze drops to my lips again.
I think of a fun question. “Tell me something true.” It seems fitting since we’re all about dares. Might as well get a glimpse of the truth while I can.
“What kind of truth do you want?” Mischief dances in his eyes once more. “A safe truth or something more…meaningful.”
The thought of him sharing something significant with me tempts me more than it should. “I want meaningful.”
He tips his head back and gives me a cool, assessing stare.
Moonlight touches his face, bathing it in a metallic glow.
It makes him look more menacing, and I’m more eager to hear what he’s going to say.
“I don’t do things halfway.” His gaze flicks over me, searching my face.
Then his eyes lock with mine, so piercing I feel it all over me.
“If I want something, I take my time with it… until I have it completely.”
I still, but a sharp, electric pull sparks through me, equal parts want and warning.
His gaze leaves no room for doubt. He was talking about me. My pulse stutters at the thought, then picks up faster. Not a good sign for my control level.
“That’s… a good way to be.” Even if it sounds dangerously close to a warning.
“Yes. That way, I always get what I want.” He straightens, his eyes burning. “My turn again, Butterfly.”
I nod.
“Is there a boyfriend I have to worry about? Or fight?” His expression softens, but the cockiness remains in his eyes.
I bite back a smile. “Fight?”
“Like I said, I always get what I want.”
I allow my hands to drift in the water. “There is no boyfriend. Is there a girlfriend I have to worry about?”
“No. Butterfly. If there were, I wouldn’t be here. No matter how tempting I find you.”
He doesn’t cheat. Noted. “That’s admirable.”
“That’s just how I am. My turn again.”
I grin in response. “Go ahead.”
“What do you do for work?” He resumes his former stance, stretching his arms against the tub.
The question isn’t difficult. It’s a normal one and a little tamer than what I expected from him. It’s just that I had a dream for my career, but life took me on a different path from the one I planned. I suppose that doesn’t mean I can’t tell him what I wanted to do.
“I studied marketing and advertising in college. I want to open my own company and work with start-ups. Until then, I’m temping.” It sounds small, even to my own ears. I expect it to mean even less to him, but he just smiles, like I’ve said something worth hearing.
“Sounds good. We all have to start somewhere.” He sounds genuine, not like he’s humoring me. “We have two questions left, Butterfly. One each. Choose wisely.”
It’s my turn. My mind stalls for a moment. There’s so much I could ask him. I’m just struggling to think of something wise.
But then the perfect question hits me.
“Why me? Why did you choose me?”
A smooth grin slides across his lips. “Because I noticed you… and I couldn’t stop. Because I haven’t wanted anything in a while, and my attention is still on you.”
His words leave me adrift, caught in the lure of being the object of his fascination. After Reece, I stopped believing men looked at me and saw something worth wanting.
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this kind of mindlessness before.
I breathe past the tightness in my lungs. “I guess I’m glad I have your attention.”
“Good. Ready for my last question?”
“Yes.” I nod.
His gaze sharpens. “Why did you agree to come up here with me?”
That might be the most daring question he’s asked me.
“It’s not because your friend encouraged you,” he adds.
“She did, though, to be fair.”
“You could have said no.”
I could.
How do I explain I agreed because he felt like freedom? That’s too deep. Then he’d want to know more, and I can’t go there tonight.
“Maybe you got my attention, too.” An honest answer that says just enough.
“Good.” His voice lowers, making my pulse unsteady all over again. “Glad we’re on the same page… now let’s see how far that goes.”
Back to dares.
My nerves tingle. It’s his turn. The whole Q & A round was my dare. What is he going to dare me to do next?
“You look nervous, Butterfly.” His gaze tightens on me.
“No. Just… trying to figure out what you’re gonna dare me to do.”
He tilts his head, regarding me with that sharp stare again.
“Let me put you out of your misery and give you a heads-up.” He leans closer, as if he’s going to whisper a secret into my ear.
“What if I told you I had ulterior motives in getting you up here and all the dares I have planned are designed to lead me there?”
My throat clogs, thick with desire. “What are your motives?” God, I’m flying way too close to the sun. Every instinct in my body tells me this man could ruin my self-control without even trying, but damn it, I don’t want to turn back.
“I want to see what you look like in my bed with nothing but my sheets wrapped around you.” His eyes burn. “I want to see what pleasure looks like on your face when I fuck you.”
My stomach drops, and the flush crawling up my throat blooms over my collarbones, where I know he can see. The air between us thins, and a sweet, traitorous ache that has no business in my body pulses low in my core.
“Have I frightened you, Butterfly?”
My nipples tighten against the sound of his voice, and the erratic beat of my pulse throws me out, but desire wins. “No.”
His eyes darken. “Good, because that’s how we’ll end up. Do you want to see how we get there?”
God… this is it. The moment I felt was coming but silently pushed to the back of my mind.
Of course, I knew from the moment he told me he wanted me that I’d somehow end up here. As wild as I was years ago, I’ve never had a one-night stand. Never even thought about it. So…
The question is, what do I want?
Yesterday morning, when I got on that plane from San Francisco, I promised myself one thing—a life where I never say no to the things I want.
I want him, too, and we’re in a place where I don’t have to care about how good or bad he is for me. Tonight doesn’t have to mean anything beyond tonight. And maybe that’s what I need.
“Yes,” I say, my voice breathy.
He straightens. “It starts with me daring you to come over here and kiss me. Do you accept?”
He’s giving me a choice but already extending his hand for me to go to him. The confidence on his face is that of a man who knows I won’t say no. The worst part is… he’s right.
The look on his face becomes more potent when I shuffle toward him.
Mr. Wicked grins back at me, slips his arm around my waist, and guides me to sit on his lap.
The feel of his hand on my bare skin sends shivers of delight through me. My body reacts to him too easily, forgetting every lesson I spent the last few years learning, and I can’t help but wonder how I’ll feel when he touches me in other places.
“I need to hear you say the words, Butterfly.” He gazes up into my eyes, the look heated with dark desire. “Say yes.”
“Yes,” I rasp.
“Good girl. Now come here.”
Mr. Wicked cups the back of my head with one large hand, guiding me to his lips. I lower my head toward him, wanting nothing more than to escape in him.
The moment our lips touch, everything in my mind dissolves and all that exists is the press of his mouth on mine and the taste of wine.
He holds me, keeping me exactly where he wants me, and I have never been so willingly trapped. He tastes of whisky and sin, and something darker, something I’ve never experienced.
The heat from his body surrounds me even through the water, pulling me deeper into the moment until I can’t remember why I was ever supposed to resist this.
My hands find his chest of their own accord, and I feel his heart there, hammering as hard as mine.
A small sound escapes me. His fingers tighten in my hair in answer.