WHEN I WOKE UP THIS morning, Dare wasn’t here. A sense of panic rose inside of me. Then I panicked even more because I was panicking. Panicking equals falling for someone. Depending on someone. And as soon as that happens, they leave. Everybody leaves.
So much for not getting attached.
As I wash my hair—helping myself to Dare’s shower—the rational side of my brain starts to wake up. He probably had an errand to run, or something. Last night, he implied that he wanted a relationship. Nothing happened to change that in the middle of the night, and he did go out of his way to make sure Jess and I had clothes to survive the winter that we severely underestimated, fucked me like he worshipped me, then bailed my little brother out of a potentially dangerous situation.
Those aren’t the actions of a man who plans to leave.
Once I’m finished, I step out, my wet hair dripping onto the cold floor. I wrap myself in a towel, then brush my teeth with my finger, which is about as effective as it sounds, but it’s better than nothing. Remembering the clothes downstairs, I run to grab the bags and dump the contents out onto Dare’s bed.
Jesus. He really went all out. Beanies, leggings, thermals, boots, long-sleeved T-shirts, a pair of gloves, more of the socks that I plucked off the top of the bag last night. Something lacy catches my eye, and I fish it out from underneath one of those puffy vests. I hold it up in front of me. It’s strappy, black lingerie, and I can’t help but laugh. So maybe his motives weren’t purely selfless.
I decide on a light gray fitted hoodie with the black puffy vest and leggings. I’m surprised to find that not only does it fit, but it still feels like…me. I pull on the pair of tan boots with a black toe. They’re fur-lined and probably the most comfortable thing my foot has ever been inside. They’re maybe half a size too big, but with the right socks, they’ll be perfect.
I hear the alarm on Jess’ phone go off, so I scoop his stuff up and make my way to the room he stayed in. He’s sitting on the edge of bed, shirtless, hands in his hair, appearing to still be half-asleep.
“Hey. Got some things for you,” I say, lifting the bag. He eyes it suspiciously.
“What’s all that?”
“Just some warm clothes. Boots.”
“Where’d it come from?”
I drop my shoulders, sitting next to him on the bed. “Dare.”
“Ah.” He nods. “Eric two point oh?”
“It’s not like that with Dare. I really like him.”
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that he has money and you have…assets?”
“Fuck you, Jess,” I say, standing. “That was a low blow.”
Sure, at first, that was part of the appeal with Eric. But Jess knows it was more complicated than that.
“My bad,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I actually like this guy. It just looks a lot like how things started with Eric.”
It’s not the same. Not even a little. But Jesse wouldn’t know that. He wouldn’t know that I’ve felt more for Dare in the first week of knowing him than I ever felt for Eric, or that Dare fought this thing between us just as much as I did.
“I think he’s broken, Jess. He’s broken, but he still tries to save me every single day. The job, the clothes, the defending of my questionable honor,” I say, huffing out a laugh that lacks humor. “He brought you here when I was too wrapped up in my own shit to realize my little brother was without fucking heat or lights.” I’m still beating myself up for that one. Jess has always been my first priority, and I slipped up this time.
“Oh, come on, Lo.” Jess rolls his eyes. “We’ve probably lived half our lives without that shit.”
“It’s not the same. You were alone.”
“Quit being dramatic. Look, if this guy makes you happy, fuck the rest. I don’t think you’ve ever done a goddamn thing for yourself. I’m not eight anymore, Lo. You don’t have to take care of me.”
“That’s not true. We take care of each other. Always.” I need Jess to know that I’m not going anywhere. Ever. “Like, it’s going to be you, your future wife, and then me hanging out in one of the eighteen spare rooms in your mansion when you become a legitimate hacker for the government or some shit. You aren’t getting rid of me.”
Jess cracks a smile, picking at a piece of fuzz on his pants.
“How were things with Henry the other night?” I’ve been meaning to ask him.
“Good,” he says, and I wait for the but that never comes. “He offered to take me to my first meet. I guess he did wrestling in high school, too.”
“Wow,” I say, shocked and impressed…and maybe a little hurt that I didn’t even know about his meet. “When is it? I’ll see if I can request the day off.”
“It’s like an hour and a half away. Henry said he’d get us a hotel room and we’d make a weekend trip out of it.”
“I still want to go,” I insist, and he nods. I’m proud of Henry for stepping up. I’m wary, but optimistic. Jess needs this. I just hope it doesn’t backfire.
“I’ll send you the information. It’s in my locker.”
I lean over to give him a one-armed hug, then pull away, wrinkling my nose. “You smell like a foot. Why don’t you go take a shower and get ready for school?”
“Blame your stalker. He was the one who cockblocked my shower.”
“What did Eric say to you, anyway?”
Jess shrugs a shoulder. “Not shit. He just said he wanted to talk to you.”
“That’s it?”
“That was it. Well, until your new boyfriend came and smashed your old boyfriend’s car to pieces.”
“What?” I screech, right as I hear Dare’s truck pull up.
“Sorry, I’d say more, but my shower calls.”
“Asshole.”
Jess walks away, chuckling, and I make my way down the stairs to meet Dare at the bottom. I stand on the last step, arms crossed, waiting for him. He walks in, hands full of coffees and two white paper bags.
“Morning, Sally.” He extends the drink carrier toward me in offering, but I don’t take one.
“What happened last night? Did you lie to me?”
“Your brother’s got a big mouth.” Dare sighs, setting the drinks and bags onto the floor, before walking up to me. He still towers over me, even with the extra inches from the step. His arms circle my waist. I arch an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“I didn’t lie—not technically. I didn’t touch him. He ran his mouth, so instead of killing him, like I wanted to, I beat up his car instead.”
I shake my head, hating that he’s involved in this at all. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why are you worrying about him?” he asks, his voice slightly more accusatory than I’m okay with.
“I’m not worried about him, you idiot. I’m worried about you. This isn’t your mess.” Eric isn’t used to rejection. The man probably never heard the word no before I came along. It’s not about me. It’s about winning. He’s like a child throwing a tantrum, and everyone knows the fastest way to make it go away is to ignore it.
“I’m a big boy, Lo,” he says, his hands smoothing down the dip in my lower back before palming my ass. Ducking his head down, his nose burrows into my still-wet hair, and I feel his breath on my neck. “I can make my own decisions.”
“I have to admit…you getting all protective does get me kind of hot.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm.” I nod, bottom lip between my teeth. “But you’re still an idiot.”
“Yeah, well, this idiot brought you the best cherry danish you’ll ever have. Where’s Jesse?”
“Shower,” I answer simply, as if I’m not swooning on the inside. Dare nods.
“These the new clothes?” he asks, backing up to look me up and down.
“What do you think? Do I look like a real local now?”
“Hotter,” he says. “But I can’t take all the credit. I had some help from Briar and Mollie.”
“Ah, that would explain the lingerie.” I laugh.
“Say what now?” Dare asks, hooking a finger into the neck of my shirt and peeking inside. I slap his hand away, earning a groan.
“Later.” Besides, I’m not wearing the pretty stuff right now.
Jess barrels down the stairs, louder than a herd of elephants, and helps himself to a cup of coffee. “What’s in the bag?” he says, eyeing it like he’s about to score something illegal.
“Pastries,” Dare says flatly. He bends over and fishes something out before handing the bag to Jess. “Go to town.”
Jess doesn’t need to be told twice, taking it over to the counter to inspect the goods. Dare hands me a danish with cherries and cream cheese in the middle. The sweet, tart smell alone has my mouth watering, but the taste is what has my eyes rolling back into my head.
“This is amazing,” I say around a mouthful. Dare’s eyes land on my lips. He swipes his thumb across the bottom one before sucking the excess off.
“Ready to go?” Jess asks. Dare clears his throat and schools his features before turning around.
“Ready when you are.”
Jess shrugs his backpack over one shoulder while I grab my purse, making sure to bring my danish and coffee, then we’re on our way.
“What are you up to today?” Dare asks as we near Henry’s house.
“Well, it just happens to be my first full day off. I thought I’d grab some groceries and other necessities. Look around for a place to rent.” Buying warm clothes is one less worry, thanks to him.
“Still want to get your tattoo?” He surprises me by asking. I smile, sheepish, having forgotten about that with everything else that went down.
“Clearly, the alcohol clouded my ability to think rationally. I can’t afford that right now.”
“Oh, you didn’t know about the employee discount? Free-ninety-nine.”
“I am not taking a free tattoo,” I say, bringing the warm cup of coffee to my lips.
“It’s only fair, since I get to pick what I put on you. It’s basically free advertisement. Really, I should be paying you.”
I laugh, shaking my head.
“I have some time around six. I wanted to talk to you about something anyway.”
Oh, come on.
“You can’t just say that and expect me not to freak out all day.”
Dare smirks. “Just come see me. Now, get out before you make your brother late for school.”
“Fine,” I say, opening the door, but he surprises me by grabbing my chin and pulling me in for a kiss. It’s slow, but chaste. He smooths his thumb across my chin as his eyes search mine, and there it is again. That shift. It leaves me breathless and hopeful and terrified all at once.
“Don’t mind me,” Jess says from the back seat, effectively ruining the moment.
“See you tonight,” Dare says, his voice husky. I nod before jumping out.
“Call me after school. And don’t forget to send me the details for your meet,” I say to Jess.
“I won’t.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I shut the door and watch them drive away, thinking how strange it is that someone else is taking my brother to school. Things like that probably seem so trivial to most people, but it’s almost unfathomable to me that someone wants to share my load, to do something nice for nothing in return. It’s freeing, but it also makes me anxious and guilty. Like I shouldn’t be letting this happen. Like I should take care of my shit on my own. Like it somehow makes me less than for accepting help.
I stop inside to grab the keys to the 4Runner and a hair tie to throw my damp hair on top of my head. The temperature inside serves as a reminder that we need to find somewhere to go. Fast. I’ve been so busy with work and Dare—admittedly—that I haven’t had a chance to do much else.
I hit the local grocery store. Stocking up on food for the week that doesn’t require a microwave or refrigerating is harder than I thought. I grab some candles, wood for the fireplace, and splurge on some pricey protein bars, thinking Jess could use something to get him through these long wrestling days.
Afterward, I follow up with the only lead on a house I had, only to learn that they’ve already rented to someone else. I sit in my car, searching for rental listings on my phone. I can’t find anything even close to our budget. Not one thing. I drive through neighborhoods for hours—searching out For Rent signs—my frustration building with each failed block. I’m all but convinced that we’re going to have to move back to The Bay.
“Shit!” I take my anger out on my steering wheel, pounding my fists against the old cracked leather until my hands hurt. I know exactly what will happen if we move back. No school will take Jess back, so he’ll drop out. He’ll go back to selling drugs and hanging out with the wrong people. Mom will weasel her way back into our lives, and all of this, every single minute of it, will have been for nothing. I’ll have to leave this place and these people who have slowly started to feel like home. And Dare. I don’t even want to think about what that would mean for us.
Dropping my forehead to the steering wheel, I breathe deeply, willing my tears not to fall. I don’t know how many times I can fail before I just…give up. If it were just me, I would’ve thrown in the towel long ago. But Jess? Jess is smart. He can actually go somewhere in life. He deserves the opportunity, and I thought I could give it to him.
My phone buzzes from the seat beside me, and I reach for it.
Jesse: Home. Power’s back on.
Huh. I wonder if it wasn’t shut off for non-payment. Must have been an outage. I never bothered to mention it to Henry because I figured he’d simply quit paying it since he was moving out.
Me: Nice. Upside-Down Day?
Jess: Hell yeah.
I smile, despite my current state of sadness, loving that he still gets excited about things like that.
I notice the time on my phone and realize it’s almost time to meet Dare. Angling the rearview mirror down, I fix my smudged eyeliner, tighten my ponytail, and give myself a mental pep talk.
Suck it up, Lo. You’ve been in worse situations. You’ll figure this out, too.
I decide to run back inside the store to grab what I need for Upside-Down Day since I can use the stove now, then I drop off the groceries at Henry’s. The kitchen table is gone. With each load he moves to his shop, my anxiety about finding a place intensifies.
The whole drive to Bad Intentions, I’m racking my brain for a solution that never comes. I don’t even know if we have a home to go back to in Oakland. We are, quite literally, out of options.
I park behind the shop, running toward the back door to escape the freezing wind. No one notices my arrival. Matty and Cordell each have clients, but I don’t see Alec. Dare sits at his station, his back to me, head down. His foot taps against the floor as he focuses intently on whatever he’s working on—a habit I’m not even sure he’s aware of.
I walk up behind him, covering his eyes with my hands and kiss his neck.
“Dammit, Cord. How many times do I have to tell you? Not in front of the customers.”
“Shut up.” I laugh. He tosses his sketchbook to the floor and pulls me onto his lap, my arms automatically circling his neck. I already feel lighter being around him, but heavier at the same time, knowing our time here has an expiration date.
“Hey, Sally. Thought you might chicken out.”
“Pft. Do I look like a pussy?”
“Mmm, you are what I eat,” he says, wiggling his brows.
“I don’t think that’s how that saying goes.” I bite my lip, suddenly feeling a little apprehensive.
“So, are we doing this?”
“We’re doing this,” I confirm.
“Do you want to see what I’ve been working on?” He flicks his chin toward the drawing pad on the floor.
“Nuh-uh. I want it to be a surprise.”
Dare pins me with a skeptical look. “You don’t want to see something that’s going to go on your body forever?”
“Nope,” I say resolutely. “Surprise me. I trust you.”
Trust. A foreign concept in my life. But, somehow, I do trust him, and not just with the tattoo.
“Okay, then. You’re not allowed to be pissed if you hate it.”
“Just do it.” I roll my eyes, hopping onto the black leather chair.
“I designed it for the top of your thigh, up to about here,” he says, pressing a finger into my hip, “but I could tweak it to make it fit between your breasts if you’d rather that. It would look good there, too.”
I almost make fun of him for saying breasts. He slipped into professional mode so quickly.
“Thigh sounds good. How do you want me?” The question is unintentionally suggestive. Dare shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Lie back on the table. Let’s do your right side.”
I do as he says, taking off my vest first. I kick my boots off as Dare takes my vest from me and throws it over another chair. Might as well be comfortable as possible as a needle digs into my flesh.
“I’m going to have to pull your pants down. Do you want to go to the private room?”
“I’m good.”
Dare nods, slipping his fingers into my waistband. He tugs them down to mid-thigh, then pushes my hoodie up to sit above my waist. The leather chair is cold against my bare skin.
“This okay?”
“Mhm.”
Dare pulls the band of my plain white thong down to sit where my pants do before turning around to put on some gloves. When he turns back around, he has a wet paper towel in his hand.
“This is just for the stencil,” he explains as he applies a generous amount of the soap and water mix. There’s something so sexy about seeing Dare in his element.
“I’m going to put the stencil on now, so try to stay still.”
“Okay.”
I look at the ceiling, feeling him place the wax paper onto the side of my thigh where the band of my underwear sits, ending right above my hipbone. He peels it back slowly.
“This is the part where I’d ask if you were happy with the placement, but…”
“Just do it,” I say before I cave. I’m dying to know what it is. For all I know, he decided to put a giant penis on my hip.
“I’m going to do a small line first, just so you know how it feels.”
I hear the buzz of the tattoo gun, and when it touches my skin, I’m surprised that it doesn’t hurt. Not much worse than getting a scratch.
“You good?”
“Yep.”
“Okay,” he says, giving my knee a squeeze. Such a simple, yet endearing gesture. “This will probably take about two hours if you want to do it all in one go.”
“I can do it,” I insist.
“Let me know when you need a break.”
I nod, and he takes that as his cue to begin. It’s not bad at first, but like picking an open wound, over and over, it starts to hurt after a while. There’s also something exhilarating about it—cathartic, even. I wonder if that’s how it started for Dare—as a way to purge his pain.
As I stare at the beams in the ceiling, I wonder what he wants to talk to me about. I’m dying to ask, but I’m also trying to let him be the one to bring it up. Now doesn’t feel like the time to push.
I’m not sure how long passes before Matty’s face comes into my line of sight.
“Look who’s sober,” he says, hovering over me, and I flip him off. Turning to Dare, he says, “That’s sick,” jerking his chin toward my thigh.
“Thanks. Now stop distracting my client,” Dare replies, but there’s no bite in his tone. Matty holds up his hands in surrender as he walks away.
“Can you turn onto your side?” Dare asks, pulling the machine away from my leg. I do as he says, rolling onto my right. When he doesn’t say anything or make a move to continue, I look behind me, careful not to look at my tattoo, only to find him staring at my very exposed, very bare ass.
“This was a bad idea,” he says, seemingly to himself, blue eyes full of heat.
“Get back to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smirks, shaking his head before rolling his chair toward me. The tattoo machine whirs back to life. He leans over me, one gloved hand on my hip, wiping away the excess ink every once in a while with a napkin, while the other one controls the needle that digs into my skin incessantly.
After a while, my right side starts to go numb from lying in the same position, and Dare must notice my squirming, because he stops.
“Let’s take a break. We’re halfway done.” Dare puts his tattoo machine down and snaps his gloves off, tossing them into the trash, before pulling me to a sitting position. The tattoo stings a little, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I stand to stretch my legs, pants still below my ass, and pull my hoodie off over my head. I’m only wearing a thin camisole, but I feel hot and sweaty. Maybe it has something to do with the adrenaline coursing through me.
“Should’ve taken you to the private room,” Dare grumbles. I look behind me to find three sets of eyes on me—Matty, Cordell, and Cordell’s client. All three snap their heads down as if they weren’t looking.
Dare takes my discarded hoodie and ties it around my waist, effectively covering my butt, but not touching the tattooed area. I wonder what I’m supposed to wear when we’re done, but I decide to cross that bridge when we come to it.
Dare grabs a water bottle, taking a swig before handing it to me. I guzzle it down.
“How you feeling?” he asks, rotating back and forth on his rolling chair.
“Fine.” I shrug. “Just wondering how I’m going to wear pants after this.”
“Ah, yeah. That. You’ll just have to skip those for a few days.”
“Oh, is that all?” I laugh.
A smile pulls at the corners of Dare’s lips. “You ready to go back in?”
“Let’s do this.” I untie the sweatshirt around my waist and lie back on my side. Dare slaps a palm against my ass cheek before leaning down to bite it.
I squeal, pushing his head away.
“Sorry. Had to get that out of my system.”
Out of his system. We both know how well that worked last time. The needle hits my skin, and I close my eyes, trying to think about anything other than the pain. It’s hurting more than before now. Almost like scratching a raw sunburn.
“Tell me what you wanted to talk to me about earlier?” I ask, abandoning my plan to let him bring it up.
“What, now?”
“Yes, now. I need a distraction.”
Dare clears his throat. “Did you find a place to stay yet?”
A wave of sadness crashes down on me. I didn’t want to have this conversation right now. “No. The place I wanted fell through.”
“You and Jess should move in with me.”
Well. Ask for a distraction and you shall receive.
“What?” I say, turning my head to face him.
“Easy,” he says. “Try not to move.”
I lie back down, waiting for him to continue as my pulse kicks into high gear.
“It doesn’t have to be like what you’re thinking. You can even have your own room, if you wanted to,” Dare explains.
“As tempting as your offer is, I can’t do that.” My voice is quiet as I focus on the glowing pink light of the Bad Intentions sign in the window.
“Why the fuck not? You need a place to stay. I have the space.”
“Because if things between us ever get…messy, what does that mean for Jess and me?”
“I would never—” Dare starts.
“I know,” I cut him off. “I know. But Jess needs to be able to depend on me. To have stability and consistency and to always know that he has a place to stay.”
“And I can give you guys that. Or you can just stay with me until you find a place.”
“Why are you pushing this?” He’s done enough. The job. The clothes. It feels like all I ever do is take take take from him.
“Aside from the obvious?”
“What’s obvious?” I ask, clueless. The tattoo machine ceases in its buzzing, but I don’t turn to face him.
“The obvious being that you’re my fucking girlfriend and you need a place to live. I don’t want you to run, Lo. Do you think I can’t see it in your eyes? That you’re three seconds from bolting? Because it’s written all over your face.”
The word girlfriend echoes in my head. Is that what I am? His girlfriend? He said he wanted a relationship before, but everyone knows declarations made during sex should be taken with a grain of salt. What he’s saying makes sense, but I still feel like I’m doing something wrong by taking him up on his offer.
“What if I paid rent? Like, with a real written agreement and everything.”
Dare blows out a harsh breath, and I feel it on my exposed skin. “If that’s what you need.”
“I’ll talk to Jess.”
Dare nods his head, wiping down my thigh. Before he starts back up, I roll onto my back and tug him toward me by his sleeve.
“Thank you,” I say, looking into those sad ocean eyes. I reach up and pull him into me, pressing my lips to his. His right hand comes down beside my head to brace himself as he kisses me—slow and deep—uncaring that we most likely have an audience. I feel the kiss right between my legs, and I clamp them together.
Dare pulls back, adjusting the crotch of his pants before sitting back in his chair. He goes back to work on my thigh, and there aren’t any more words. It takes another twenty minutes or so before he announces that he’s finished.
Nerves twist in my stomach as he cleans me up. He helps me sit up before handing me a handheld mirror. I stand, ass facing him instead of flashing the rest of the shop, as I take in the reflection.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe. It’s a flower with strings of delicate beading hanging below like a chandelier. It’s feminine but somehow badass at the same time. The shading and detail are incredible.
“You said to choose something that represented you,” he says, his voice unsure. Maybe even vulnerable.
“You think I’m a delicate flower?” I laugh.
“It’s a lotus. They grow from mud.”
Sounds about right, I think. But he continues.
“They’re born from darkness. But they bloom anyway—rising above the mud, still remaining beautiful and pure. That is you.”
Tears instantly prick the backs of my eyes, my nose stings, and I feel a lump in my throat. I can’t speak, can’t do anything to stop the tears. Instead, I throw my arms around him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. He lets me cry, his hands rubbing my back, and his gentle touch only makes me cry harder.
“Let’s get you wrapped up back here,” Dare says, leading me to the drawing room. I know it’s his way of giving us some privacy.
“I’m sorry,” I say, smoothing my palms across my wet cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” I lean against his drawing desk, and Dare kneels, applying some ointment to the fresh ink before covering it in plastic wrap, securing it with tape on each end. Once he’s done, he kisses the inside of my knee, then stands, walking behind his desk to grab something. He rounds the desk, kneeling in front of me again, as he peels my leggings down, taking my underwear with them.
How stupid must I look? Crying over a tattoo with my pants down. I laugh then sniffle at the ridiculousness of it all. He holds up a pair of black basketball shorts for me to step into.
“You thought ahead.”
“Wishful thinking.”
When I lift my left leg, he surprises me by leaning in, face flush against my center as he gives me a long, flat lick. My eyes roll back, and my ass hits the edge of his desk. My leg is still half-bent, suspended awkwardly, and Dare grabs my knee, lifting it higher to have better access. I bury my hands in his messy black hair as he eats me, alternating between sucking and nibbling and fucking me with his tongue.
I have the sudden urge to please him. He’s always making me feel so good. I want to do the same for him. Clenching the collar of Dare’s hoodie, I pull him up before dropping to my knees in front of him.
“Careful,” he says huskily, probably referring to the tattoo, but I can’t feel anything other than him. I have his belt buckle undone and his pants unzipped in seconds, then I’m jerking his jeans down below his ass. I grip his hips over his white boxer briefs, seeing his thickness straining against the fabric. My tongue darts out to lick the outline of it.
“Fuck,” he mutters, dropping his head back. “Pull my cock out.” I love this side of Dare. Dirty and bossy with a side of needy. I do as he says, sliding his boxers down until his hard length bobs free. I lick the underside of his shaft from bottom to sensitive tip, and Dare groans, hand landing on my ponytail, gripping it tightly. He tugs, pulling me away, while his other hand circles his cock.
“Open.”
I feel myself clench at his command. I open my mouth, and he slaps the head against my tongue twice before he slides inside my mouth. I close my lips around him, and Dare jerks forward with a harsh breath. He controls my movements with the hand wrapped around my hair, pulling me back, then forward. He moves slowly at first, but he picks up the pace, and I steady myself by holding on to the front of his thighs.
Without leaving my mouth, he spins us both around, so my back is facing the desk. Letting go of my ponytail, he brings his hands to rest on the edge of his desk as he pumps his hips into me, fucking my mouth. His lean, tattooed torso is stretched above me, his muscles flexing with each thrust. His lips are parted, head dipped down between his shoulders, eyes clenched shut.
I slip a hand between my own thighs, unable to resist, causing me to moan around him. His eyes fly open and flare with lust. “I want to touch you.”
I release him with a pop, holding the base of him, and shake my head. “This is for you.” I work my hand up and down his length, holding his gaze as I close my mouth around his head.
“Fuck yes,” he groans. I dig my fingernails into his ass, pulling him deeper, wanting to take all of him, to make him lose control, to make him feel a fraction of the kind of crazy he makes me feel. The hard floor hurts my knees, but I ignore the pain, working him with my hand and my mouth.
Dare tenses up, hips stilling. “I’m gonna come.”
I suck him harder in response. He mutters another curse and pulls back to jerk himself while the tip is still between my lips.
“You’re gonna swallow my cum, Lo?”
I nod, holding my tongue out.
“Touch your pussy while you do.”
I clench at his words, bringing my fingers between my legs once more. It only takes a few seconds before my orgasm hits, right as Dare’s does, the salty liquid hitting my tongue. When he’s done, I swallow before wrapping my lips around him, giving one last light suck.
Dare shudders, pulling me up. I’m surprised when he presses his lips to mine. Most guys are weird about that kind of thing, but Dare is unconcerned, his tongue sliding along mine.
He reaches between my thighs, two fingers swirling around in my wetness.
“Does that mean you like your tattoo? Because that was one hell of a thank you.”
I laugh, sagging against him. “I love it,” I say honestly, ignoring that pang in my chest that tells me it might not be the only thing I feel that way for.
“Are you coming over tonight?” Dare asks, nuzzling into me, his stubble scratching against the thin skin of my neck and shoulder. I want to feel it between my thighs.
“I can’t,” I breathe, feeling raw and vulnerable from the crying, the tattoo, the closeness, the orgasm—all of it. “I need to be with Jess tonight.” We need to figure out our next move. I honestly don’t know which way he’ll lean, but I know he deserves to be included in the decision.
Dare nods, kissing my forehead. He bends over, retrieving the forgotten basketball shorts and slides them up my jelly legs, careful not to touch the fresh ink. We walk back into the main room, and I pull my hoodie back over my head, hearing my keys jingle in the front pocket.
Dare gives me instructions about caring for my tattoo. He tells me to take off the wrap in a couple of hours, then wash it with a mild soap and water. I thank him again, promising to call him later tonight. I have a lot to think about.