“YOU WERE GONE A WHILE,” Sutton remarks with a knowing look when I come walking back through the door at Blackbear noticeably less upset.
“We talked,” I say, unable to hide my smile.
“Mhm.” She doesn’t believe me for a second.
We’re a girl short today, so Jake asks me to man the bar as well as my tables. We’ve been swamped with tourists since the first snow a couple of days ago, and from what I hear, this is nothing. We’re one of the closest bars that’s not on the mountain, so we’re the first place people see when they’re done. Two guys approach, putting their boards on the rack outside before taking their seats at the bar.
“What can I get you fine gentlemen?” I ask, placing a napkin in front of each one.
“Besides your number?” one asks, earning a punch in the shoulder from the other one.
“Don’t mind him. He busted his ass along with his ego on the mountain, then proceeded to get white girl wasted.”
I laugh, not offended in the least. “So, water for you then,” I joke. “How about some appetizers?” I suggest, thinking it might be a good idea to get something in homeboy’s stomach.
“What do you suggest?” the sober one asks while the drunk one fumbles with his phone.
“Our potato skins are pretty life-changing.”
“Potato skins and a Rebel IPA it is.”
“On it.” I reach for a glass as Jake rounds the corner. He greets the customers with a nod, but when his eyes land on me, he frowns. His eyes are locked on my neck, and I pull my hair out of its tie to cover the love bites Dare left me with.
He doesn’t comment, though, thankfully. I spend the rest of my shift on autopilot. I can’t seem to get Dare out of my mind. At first, I couldn’t believe that he thought it was a good idea to buy me expensive things, knowing everything he does about Eric. I can’t be bought, and I thought I made that clear. But when I saw what it was, I realized the difference. Dare bought those things for me because he knew I’d need them. Because he cared. Eric used to buy me material things—jewelry, electronics, fancy dresses. All frivolous shit that served his own selfish wants and needs.
Dare made Sutton agree not to tell me who it was from. She didn’t, but I knew right away it had to be him. Who else would it be? Once I saw the men’s clothing, I was done for. The fact that he considered Jess in this whole thing had me swallowing a lump in my throat and fighting back tears. Dare is selfless and kind and caring, but he’d rather slam his hand in a door than let anyone know.
“Ready to drink, bitch?” Sutton asks as we ditch our aprons and freshen up in front of the mirror in the break room.
“Actually, yes.” Jess is at wrestling again, and Henry’s house is practically vacant.
“You wanna go somewhere else or just drink here?”
“Here,” I say, wanting to stay close for reasons I don’t want to decipher. Plus, free drinks. Can’t beat free.
“I thought you might say that.” She rolls her eyes. “But that works because I want to get a tattoo afterward. If I work up enough liquid courage, that is.”
“What are you going to get?”
“I want the phases of the moon right here,” she says, gesturing to the inside of her upper arm. “Here, let me show you.” She pulls out her phone, scrolling before showing me the screen as we walk toward the barstools. It’s a vertical row of eight moons in various phases.
“I dig it. And I bet they’d take you as a walk-in. That probably wouldn’t take too long.”
“Then booze me up, baby!”
“Oh, this should be good.” Jake laughs, amused, once we take our seats at the barstools. He doesn’t ask what we want. Instead, he slides two lemon drops our way before handing me a beer and Sutton her Jack and Coke. I look down to see two missed calls from a private number, but I don’t want to think about Eric right now, so I turn my phone off and stuff it into my bag.
“Thank you, kind sir,” Sutton says and then raises her shot glass to mine. “To liquid courage,” she declares, and we clink our glasses together.
Liquid courage. I could use some of that. Because this thing with Dare…I think it’s starting to get real. And that scares me more than I want to admit. I’m about four beers in when the conversation turns to him. Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long.
“Guys who want casual don’t usually buy clothes for you and your little brother, do they?” I ask, maybe a little too loudly.
“Nope,” Sutton says, popping the word from her lips. “Especially when they’re already getting that ass for free.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” I prop my chin in the palm of my hand. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I register that I essentially just admitted to sleeping with Dare. “I think I like him.”
“I think you’re an idiot if you’re just now realizing it.”
“You’re a real peach.” I laugh, taking another swig of beer. “Are you liquored up enough to get your tattoo yet?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Sutton downs the rest of her drink and slams it on the bar top. I hop off my stool, and I suddenly feel a little drunker than I thought I was. I feel happy and buzzed and excited at the thought of seeing Dare.
“Be careful,” Jake calls after us as we’re walking toward the door.
Sutton slings an arm around my shoulder and yells back, “Never,” causing Jake to roll his eyes.
“Have you guys ever hooked up?”
“Ew, Jake?”
“Yes! He’s kind of protective of you.”
Sutton shakes her head. A strand of her sleek black hair gets stuck to my lips with the movement, and I spit it out, making us both laugh.
“No, you dumbass. He’s protective of you,” she says right as we enter Bad Intentions. My face screws up in confusion. Jake barely knows me. Why would he feel protective of me?
“What up, girl?” Matty greets me, pulling me in for a hug.
“I brought you a present,” I say, gesturing to Sutton. “Got time for a walk-in?”
“Hell yeah. What do you have in mind?”
Sutton nods, and she pulls out her phone. The two of them start discussing placement and coloring, but I check out of the conversation when I see Dare. His head is down as he ambles in from the back. A pencil in his mouth, sketchbook in hand. A piece of dark hair hangs in front of one eye, and he jerks his head to flip it out of the way. Once he notices me, he falters for half a second.
“Hi,” I say, walking toward him.
“Hey, Sally,” he says with a smirk. He sits at his stool, and I follow, plopping down on his tattoo chair thingy.
“What is this thing called, anyway?” I ask, swinging my legs onto the chair, then leaning back into a reclining position. “I should probably know these things. I’m like the worst tattoo shop girl ever.”
Dare chuckles. “A…tattoo chair?” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Client chair, if you’re fancy.”
“Pft. Fancy is my middle name.”
Dare squints one eye, assessing. “Something is different.”
“What?”
“You’re drunk.”
“I mean…I’m not not drunk,” I admit, earning another laugh from him. I love the sound. “I like it when you’re happy.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, my cheeks burn hot. I didn’t mean to say it out loud. Not much embarrasses me, but revealing too much about how I feel is the exception.
“I like it when you’re unfiltered,” he counters.
“I’m always unfiltered.”
“I like it when you’re forthcoming then. How’s that?”
The only one I’ve been lying to is myself about how I feel for him. I don’t say that, though.
Matty and Sutton come from the direction of the drawing room, and she sits in his chair, next to Dare’s station. I didn’t even notice that they had gone back there. Matty coats the inside of Sutton’s arm with a mixture of soap and water before applying the stencil to her skin.
“Check it out,” he says, handing her a handheld mirror.
“Perfect,” she beams. “Let’s do this.”
“I want a tattoo,” I declare suddenly.
“As much as I’d love that—and I would fucking love it a lot—no can do.”
“I’ll do it!” Cordell calls from somewhere in the back. I whip my head in his direction, but I still don’t see him. I didn’t even know he was here.
“The fuck you will!” Dare yells over his shoulder before turning his attention back to me. “You’re drunk. I can’t tattoo you tonight.”
“But Sutton’s drunk, too.” Resorting to tattling to get my way. It’s a new low for me.
“Am not! I had one drink! You had like five. Proceed,” she says to Matty with a wave of her hand. Come to think of it, besides the lemon drop, she did nurse the same drink the whole time.
“Come on, Dare Bear.” I stick out my bottom lip, and he lifts an eyebrow, clearly amused. I need to up my game. “I think I want it riiiiight here,” I say, folding the band of my leggings down dangerously low. Dare’s eyes narrow, and I bite my bottom lip at the look in them. He groans before slipping a finger underneath, slowly pulling them back into place. My skin breaks out in goosebumps, and he gives me a knowing look. “You’re always so cold.”
Something dark passes over Dare’s features as his eyes lock onto mine, but he shakes it away. “If you’re serious about it and you still want one tomorrow, we’ll talk. Besides the fact that you could change your mind when your buzz wears off, you’ll probably bleed more and delay your healing process. I’m not doing that to you.” The hand that adjusted my pants has curved around my hip, and even that slight touch has my insides feeling floaty, like a balloon full of helium.
“Fine.”
“Do you know what you want?”
I haven’t thought that far ahead. Instead of admitting that, I say, “I want you to choose.”
“What?” His forehead scrunches up, confusion written all over that pretty face.
“You heard me. I want something that represents me. Something beautiful. I trust you.” As I’m saying it, I realize how true it is. Dare is covered in beautiful. I trust his taste. He’s also insanely talented.
“You sure about that?” Dare asks, his voice a little raspier than before. I nod, looking deep into his eyes to convey my sincerity.
The door dings, effectively breaking the moment. Dare excuses himself to greet the customer, who’s a walk-in, and I opt to hang out with Cordell to pass the time.
“Wanna shoot some pool?” Cord asks, handing me a bottle of beer from the fridge.
“Depends on if you can handle being beat by a girl.”
“I’ll try my best,” Cord says, laughing. I might be exaggerating my skills, but I’m decent. I practically grew up in the shithole bars that Crystal dragged us to while she was on the hunt for men, money, drugs, or a combination of the three. Jess was too young to realize what was going on, so I made it fun for him by letting him pick the songs on the free jukebox and playing pool.
Jess actually got so good that he was hustling grown ass men by the age of seven. They were very drunk men who were shit at pool in the first place, but it was impressive nonetheless. Naturally, Crystal saw an opportunity and tried to use him to her advantage. That’s when I started insisting we stay home. We could scheme and hustle all day long, but I wasn’t going to let her benefit. I never understood why we had to go with her in the first place. I was eleven, but I’d been babysitting Jess since the ripe old age of seven. It didn’t occur to me until later that maybe we were unknowingly part of her scheming. People always felt bad for kids and animals. If only she’d had a dog…
I lean forward and break, making my shot. “I call solids.”
Cord’s eyes widen just a little. “Lucky shot.”
“Totally.” I laugh.
I’m rusty and intoxicated, but I end up winning the first game, which prompts Cordell to declare, “Best two out of three.” He wins the second, and then the third, but it was a close game.
“BOOM!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air. Dare must be finished, because he shows up, looking between the two of us. “I won,” he explains to Dare. I roll my eyes.
“Only because I scratched on the eight ball.”
“Aw, don’t be a sore loser.” He throws an arm around my shoulders, turning his attention to Dare. “Your girl here has mad skills.”
“You have no idea.”
His insinuation, along with the fact that he didn’t deny me being “his girl,” has my stomach flipping with anticipation. As if reading the look in my eyes, Dare reaches for my hand and pulls me toward him.
“You have your keys?” he asks Cordell.
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.”
Dare drags me through the shop, and I practically have to run to keep up. I stop to admire Sutton’s tattoo for half a second before she waves me off, telling me she’ll show me tomorrow. We’re almost to the truck when Dare asks me where my coat is.
“Shit. I left my stuff at Blackbear.” How was that only earlier today? It’s been the longest day ever.
“Wait in the truck.”
A minute later, he’s back, bags in hand. He tosses me my jacket, shoving the rest into the back seat. I put it on and zip it up to my chin.
“Good?”
“It’s perfect.”
Dare gives a brusque nod before starting the truck.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he says, scratching at the hair at the back of his neck, his signature move when he feels uncomfortable.
“I want to.” And I plan to thank him in other ways tonight.
The rest of the ride is filled with sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. I know exactly what’s going to happen when we get to his house. Hell, the whole shop knows exactly what’s going to happen.
When we pull up, Dare retrieves my bags from the back and carries them inside. He drops them at the door before turning to me. Sliding a cold hand around the back of my neck, he leans his forehead down to rest against mine.
“You’re always so warm,” he says, slipping his other hand up the back of my shirt. I shiver, but I lean into his touch anyway, gladly giving away all my warmth. Letting my purse fall to the floor, I push up on my toes, bringing my lips to his stubbled cheek. Dare clenches his eyes shut, as if in physical pain. I leave another kiss next to the first, then another, and another. I cup his cheek with one hand, pressing my lips to his sharp jaw, making my way to his mouth. I kiss his top lip first, and his mouth parts, letting me explore. When I suck the bottom one into my mouth, he groans, lifting me by my ass, and finally kisses me back.
He surprises me when he walks me over to the counter, sitting me on top of one of the barstools. He moves to the fridge, grabbing himself a bottled water, then stands on the opposite side of the counter.
“Don’t tell me you’re not going to fuck me, either,” I say, disappointment lacing my tone.
“You may be too drunk for a tattoo, but I never said anything about being too drunk to fuck.”
Thank God. Dare opens the lid before tipping the bottle to his lips. God, even the way his throat moves when he swallows is sexy. As soon as the bottle hits the counter, I slide it toward me and take a drink. Dare rounds the counter, coming to a stop behind me. His arms circle my middle, and he reaches for the zipper of my jacket, pulling down. He peels it off me, letting it fall to the floor, nudging it aside with his foot.
His hand flattens against my chest, and I wonder if he can feel my heartbeat kicking furiously at his touch. He smooths his palm up my neck, then his fingers wrap around my throat.
“I want you,” he says, his lips against my ear.
“Have me.” I roll my head to the side, giving him access to my neck as my eyelids fall shut.
“I want you every day. And I don’t want anyone else to have you.” His nose grazes up and down the length of my neck.
“I think that’s called a relationship,” I breathe. He freezes, halting his movements.
“Then that’s what I want.”
I don’t trust my ears. Eyes flying open, I twist my head to look into his eyes. He’s serious. There are a million and one reasons we shouldn’t be together. The timing is all wrong. But something inside me tells me this is different. Something in the air tells me things are shifting. Something in his eyes tells me he feels it, too.
I tilt my head back to answer him with a kiss. His thumb strokes my cheek before the hand at my neck glides down to grip my breast over my shirt as he deepens the kiss.
I arch my back, pressing into Dare’s hand, and he pinches my nipple through the thin fabric, causing a moan to slip free. Suddenly, his hands are gone as he kneels behind me. I don’t get a chance to ask what he’s doing before a palm between my shoulder blades forces me to lean forward.
I’m bent over the counter, feet on the bar of the stool, ass lifted from the seat. I jump when he smacks two hands against both cheeks, then squeezes hard. I feel his breath through my leggings—which aren’t much thicker than a pair of tights—and then he’s biting me through the material. My breathing grows harsh as he continues grazing his teeth up and down my thighs, my ass. Sometimes soft nibbles, sometimes hard enough to make me squirm.
I feel his face move between my legs. He uses his teeth to bite a hole before ripping them wide. I gasp when I hear the rip, feeling the cold air hit me a second before his tongue does.
Holy shit.
My elbows are firmly planted on the counter, and I drop my head down as he licks me. My thighs burn from holding this position and my arms are already shaking, but I don’t dare do anything that will stop what he’s doing to me. Dare clutches my hips, arching my butt higher. He eats at me, devouring me from front to back and everything in between.
“Oh my God,” I cry, my own voice sounding foreign to my ears. Dare nudges me high enough to get underneath me—the back of his head resting on the leather-cushioned stool—before pulling me back down to straddle his face, spreading my legs open wide. His hands that lead to tattooed wrists hook around the tops of my shaky thighs.
“Fuck my face, Lo.”
I start to move above him, rocking my hips, but Dare pulls me down, flush against his mouth. I brace my hands on the edge of the counter as he grips my hips. I watch his face move between my legs, shamelessly grinding against his mouth. He licks me from ass to clit, and I shudder at the foreign sensation.
“You like that?” he asks, his voice taunting, but I’m too wrapped up in lust to be embarrassed. I nod enthusiastically, unable to focus on words. Suddenly, he slides out from underneath me, and I could cry at the loss. He drags a hand down his mouth, wiping my wetness from his stubble.
“Turn around.” His tone has shifted, along with the look in his eyes. The sweet words and gentle touches were Stefan, but this is Dare, and my stomach swirls with excitement.
I sit back down on the stool, facing the opposite way. Dare walks around the counter and reaches into a high cabinet, his icy eyes heavy-lidded, before coming to stand behind me again. I hear him fiddling with something, unscrewing a cap, maybe, before he sets the white glass jar labeled coconut oil onto the counter next to me, the lid falling to the floor with a loud clang.
Dare’s hands on my hips slide me backwards so my ass is hanging off the stool. I don’t have time to question it before his hands are there, between my legs, coating everything. I hear him undressing behind me as I hold my breath, waiting for his next move. I’m shaking for him, for whatever he’s about to give me.
I don’t have to wait long, because two seconds later, I feel his tip notching against my entrance, hot and hard. He slides into my pussy effortlessly, thanks to my arousal and the coconut oil. Knees locked together, I push back against him, but after a few thrusts, he pulls out with a curse.
“I don’t want to come in your pussy this time,” he explains, dragging the head of his cock through my lips and back toward my other hole. He nudges against my ass, rubbing and circling but never fully penetrating. I should be nervous at what I know is about to happen. I’ve never done this. But Dare has a way of making everything feel good, even when it’s outside my comfort zone.
Dare leans over, covering my back with his front. He bites my shoulder hard enough that I know I’ll have a mark tomorrow before asking, “Has anyone fucked your ass before?” His voice is strained in my ear.
“No,” I breathe.
“Tell me I can take it. Tell me I can be the first.”
“Take it,” I all but beg, pushing onto him again.
Dare’s weight is gone as he stands behind me once more, haphazardly digging four fingers into the jar before lubing me up some more. I look behind me to see him using the excess to coat his cock before he’s pushing against the tight ring. I lock up, not expecting the sharp sting, but Dare soothes me, rubbing my back and thighs, coaxing me to loosen up.
“Relax, baby,” he says before nibbling on my shoulder, softer this time. He snakes a hand in between my legs, playing with my clit as he starts to move again. I melt into his touch, his pretty words. Slowly, so slowly, he nudges inside. I feel the moment he pushes past the tight muscle, and I slump forward on the counter in relief.
“I feel so full.”
Dare groans at my admission, pumping his hips a little faster after giving me a minute to adjust. I half-moan, half-whine at the feeling. “Play with your pussy,” he instructs as his hands move back to spread my ass. I look over my shoulder once more, watching him as he watches himself move inside me. His lean abs flex with each thrust and I do as he says, rubbing my clit. The heady mixture of pain and pleasure is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
Soon, he’s fucking me just as hard as he would my pussy, and my whole body is vibrating, shaking with the sensations running through me. I feel drugged, completely out of my mind. My body is on sensory overload. Over-stimulated to the point that tears stream down my cheeks.
Dare pulls my back to his front, arms wrapping around me as he ruts into me, his hips slapping against my ass that’s still half-covered by my ripped leggings. One arm dips down to cup me between the legs while his other arm wraps around my neck.
“Fuck my hand while I fuck your ass,” Dare rasps into my ear. “Come for me, Lo.”
His words send me over the edge as I grind against his hand while he fucks up into me without remorse.
“I’m coming,” I cry, holding his hand in place while I ride it. He curls two fingers inside me, hitting a spot that makes my eyes roll back as I spasm around him.
“Fuck,” Dare grinds out. “Your ass is squeezing me so hard.”
I slump forward with my cheek pressed onto the cold granite countertop, my palms flat against the smooth surface. Dare’s hands come over the tops of mine, folding his fingers between my own as he gives two more powerful strokes. I feel the moment he spills inside me, and then he’s sinking against me, kissing the notches in my spine before he slowly pulls out of my spent body.
We’re depleted and sweaty, lying on top of Dare’s couch as he traces his fingertips up and down my side. He’s on his side behind me, head propped on his hand, my ripped leggings and the rest of our clothes strewn all over the floor.
“I love tickles,” I say sleepily, as goosebumps pepper my skin.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks. I’m raw and sore, but I’m still in a state of euphoria, I think.
“A little,” I say, downplaying it. “But I liked it.”
That same dark look flashes in his eyes again. “I didn’t mean to lose control.”
I roll toward him, my eyebrows cinched together in confusion. Our noses are almost touching with how close we are. “What are you talking about? You didn’t. I literally asked for it.”
He looks away, clenching his jaw, but I flatten my palm against his cheek, forcing him to look at me. His stubbled jaw scratches against my skin, and it dawns on me that I get to touch him like this, when no one else does. It’s a thrilling thought, as weird as that may seem.
“Talk to me. You know all my shit.” Dare opened up about his past, but I suspect there’s still more.
“I told you my shit,” he bites back, and I flinch, taken aback by his tone. His eyes soften at my reaction, and he grabs the back of my head, pulling me under his chin. My cheek is pressed against his chest, and I inhale deeply. I could drown in his piney scent.
“I was an angry kid, and an even angrier teenager,” he starts. I wonder if it’s easier for him to talk this way—with me tucked into his chest rather than looking me in the eye. “I had anger management issues. Abandonment issues. Authority issues,” he ticks off. “Basically, every issue. Self-control was always my weak point. I fucked shit up, and I fought. A lot.” He takes a deep breath, and I hear the steady beat of his heart against my ear. I don’t respond. I’m not the best at this whole feeling-sharing thing either, so I stay silent, waiting for him to continue.
“When I was sixteen, I almost went to prison. I’ve spent the last ten years making sure I’m not that kid anymore.”
“That’s it?” I say, tilting my head back far enough to meet those eyes that are bluer than water that this town is so well-known for. “You almost went to prison?”
Dare looks at me questioningly. “I was a fucking monster. Is that not enough for you?” There’s no heat behind his words. He states them as a fact. As if he were merely commenting on the weather.
“You didn’t actually go, though? Did you at least get to wear handcuffs? Or sit in the back of a cop car?”
“That, I have done,” he says, the corners of his lip tugging into an almost smile.
“Meh,” I tease, unimpressed. “You’re still behind most of the people I grew up with.” So, he has a temper. Big deal. Show me a kid who’s been through half the shit he’s gone through who doesn’t have anger issues.
“I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth,” Dare muses.
“I don’t care about your past,” I say truthfully, because, you know, glass houses and all that. I’m not exactly in a position to judge.
I’m blissfully drifting to sleep when I hear my phone buzzing from the inside of my purse. I groan and start to sit up, but Dare stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Where is it?” he asks. I point toward the door.
“In my purse.”
Dare squats to pick it up. “Got enough shit in here?” he asks, rummaging through my bag. “Found it.” He pulls my phone out triumphantly, walking back toward me. It stops buzzing but starts again by the time it’s in my hands. Jess’ name flashes across the screen.
“Hey,” I say. “How was practice?”
“Fine. Listen, don’t come home.”
“What?” I sit up so quickly, I almost crack heads with Dare. My heart threatens to pound out of my chest because I know, I just know, something isn’t right. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine. But I’m looking out the blinds right now, and either I’m super fucking baked or Eric is parked across the street. I think it’s both.”
Fuck. I didn’t even give him a heads-up because I thought for sure Eric would’ve given it up by now.
“I’m gonna go outside and have a little chat with him. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t on your way home.”
“I’m at Dare’s, but Jesse, do not go out there. I don’t know what the fuck Eric’s thinking.”
Upon hearing Eric’s name, Dare stands and practically runs up the stairs.
“I’ve been waiting a minute to fuck this fool up,” Jess says, sounding almost excited. I shake my head, knowing that Stubborn Jesse does whatever the hell he wants. Always has, always will.
Dare flies back downstairs in black sweats and a long-sleeved black shirt. He swipes his keys out of the pile of shit we left at the door in our haste, then throws his boots on.
“Where are you going?”
“Tell him to stay inside till I get there.”
“Goddammit, Dare! I don’t need you to fight my battles.”
“The fuck you don’t. Stay here,” he says, and then he’s gone, the door slamming behind him. I drop the phone, scrambling to find my clothes, but my leggings are ripped and full of cum. By the time I throw Dare’s T-shirt on, he’s already peeling out of his driveway.
“Fuck!” I kick the side of his couch.
“Lo!”
Shit. Jesse. I pick the phone back up, bringing it to my ear.
“Dare’s coming.”
“Oh, goodie. Two against one. This should be fun.”
“Please don’t do anything stupid.”
“Who, me? Never.”
I can hear the smirk in his voice, and it does nothing to calm my nerves. He hangs up without another word. I try to call Dare, for the first time ever, but it goes straight to voicemail. I clasp my phone between both hands, bringing them to rest under my chin as I pace the living room floor.
This night is never-ending.