One minute Dare was standing on the beach, trying to keep himself from giving in to Haven’s innocent playfulness. The next he was wet from forehead to knees from Haven splashing him.
She actually splashed him.
His reaction was pure instinct. He took off like a shot, bolting toward her like a wild animal after its prey.
Haven’s beautiful face went from uncertain to startled to amused, and on a scream and a laugh she turned and ran, her feet kicking up water as she cut through the shallows.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she yelled between laughs.
Dare just ran faster, not even caring as his boots hit the water’s edge. She didn’t have a chance in hell of outrunning him, and he wasn’t giving up the chase until he had her in his arms—and made her pay.
A burst of laughter exploded out of her as she veered back and forth, pleading words spilling haltingly from her lips. And then Dare clasped his arms around her upper body, hauled her in against him, and took them both down to the sand right at the water’s edge. He turned his body so that he took the brunt of the fall, bringing Haven down on top of him. The chase and the challenge and the closeness had him rock hard in an instant. Not surprising, since he’d been sporting a semi since she’d straddled his bike, spread her legs around him, and taken him into her arms.
“You splashed me,” he said, eyebrow arched, hand fisted around the long braid in her hair.
Wearing a grin so open and carefree that it made his chest feel suddenly too small for his heart, Haven nodded. “Oops.”
“You think that’s funny?” he asking, growing harder as she shifted her weight, making her belly grind against his hard-on.
A small gasp of recognition, and she bit down on her lip as the cast of her eyes went from playful to aroused. “A little,” she said in a breathy voice. She licked her lips.
Dare couldn’t help but track the movement, and want to suck the trail of moisture she left there off the plump, pink skin.
What the fuck was he doing?
Haven’s hands gripped his shoulders, and she subtly shifted her weight again, pulling herself up his body—just a little, but enough that her lower belly now pressed and thrust against his cock. And Jesus if the need blazing out of those bright blue eyes wasn’t crystal clear.
For a split second, Dare thought of Haven’s list, her lie of omission, the expression she’d worn on her face when he’d made her come. And what he wanted to do ran roughshod over what he should do.
Startling a high-pitched gasp from her, Dare flipped their positions so that she lay in the soft sand and his body lay partially over hers. With his forehead against hers, he nailed her with a stare. “You sure you want to provoke me?” His left hand dragged down her body, over the small mounds of her breasts and the flat plane of her stomach. His fingers settled on the button to her jeans. “Because you realize now I have to exact my revenge.” He paused there, giving her the chance to tell him to back off.
She shivered beneath him. “I guess fair’s only fair,” she whispered.
That’s my girl, he thought, even though the sentiment was really problematic. On all kinds of levels. “You want me to stop, Haven, you just say the word.”
“Don’t stop,” she said, her lips parting, her breathing coming faster.
On a groan, Dare claimed her mouth with his. He tugged the button to her jeans free, yanked down the zipper, and pushed his hand beneath the snug material to find her hot and so damn slick.
Her tongue stroked against his, and he swallowed her moans as his fingers stroked her folds. She rocked her hips and parted her legs without him having to ask, pulling a growl of approval from low in his throat—and making him know that fingering her wasn’t going to be enough. Not for him.
Not this time. And not that it had really been last time, either.
Dare wanted more of Haven. He wanted to taste her, drink her down, wear her on his skin. On his mouth.
Kissing her long and hard and deep, he gently withdrew his hand from between her legs and pushed at the denim around her waist. Haven clued in to what he was doing and helped him push down the material until she was naked to her knees.
And then Dare shoved down her body, gripped her hips in his hands, and planted his face against the triangle of blond hair at the junction of her thighs. His tongue pushed between her slick lips, and she nearly bowed up off the sand beneath him. Jesus she was magnificent and honest and responsive in ways that made him want more, want everything.
He held her hips to his mouth as she thrashed and jerked and thrust beneath him. He flicked his tongue against her clit, relentless and demanding. Her taste was all sweet female musk, and he relished every drop he drew from her. Haven’s body strained and her knees parted as much as they could, given the way he was holding and pinning her.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she moaned again and again, her hand lightly falling atop his head.
“That’s it, Haven,” he groaned before plunging his tongue between her folds again.
“Dare,” she rasped, her thighs shaking, her fingers winding into his hair.
The sound of his name from her mouth made his balls heavy and full. Christ, he wanted to bury himself inside her little body and ride her hard, fast, deep.
An urge that got about a million times stronger when she bucked into his mouth, pulled his hair, and screamed his name in an orgasm that sounded so good it nearly made him come, too.
Fucking beautiful.
Shaking and breathing hard, several long moments passed before Haven’s muscles relaxed and her hold on his hair loosened. His scalp burned from the pull, but he loved every second of the way she’d both let go and held on tight. Held on tight to him.
That she’d let him expose her, that she’d trusted him to do right by her, that she’d given herself over so freely to him—it all blew his goddamned mind.
Haven pushed against Dare’s shoulders, and he let her force him up onto an elbow. Looking him in the eye, she scooted down and trailed her hand over his abdomen to his groin. With a shaky touch that said she wasn’t sure he’d like it, she palmed his cock through his jeans, rubbing and squeezing in a way that made him a little crazy.
He liked it, all right.
God, how he wanted to let her have her way, how he wanted to see exactly what she wanted to do, how he wanted her hands and her mouth and her body all over him.
Except there was that damn looming confrontation to consider, wasn’t there?
He stilled her hand. Pushed it away. Shook his head, hating the shadows of confusion and rejection that passed behind her eyes. But he couldn’t let her give him pleasure—well, any more than he’d already received from pleasuring her. Not when he was the one now withholding information.
What a fucking epic mess. One he’d just made messier, no doubt.
Way to go, Kenyon.
So instead of doing what he wanted, he did what he had to. Rose to his feet, helped her up, and turned his back while she righted her clothes. He heard her hand rubbing over her skin, and peeked over his shoulder enough to see that she was trying to brush the sand off her legs and ass. Jesus, he really hadn’t given that much thought, had he? Which made him an even bigger prick.
“Sorry I got you all sandy,” he gritted out, regret at his thoughtlessness pushing its way to the fore.
“It’s just sand,” she said in a small voice. A voice that made him want to tell her how much he’d loved eating her to orgasm, that made him want to explain why he’d kept them from going further, that made him want to show her some tenderness instead of reinserting the distance between them he should’ve left there in the first place. “I’ll, uh, just get my shoes.”
Looking to his right, Dare watched her trail down the beach, feeling like he’d wrecked the beautiful thing that’d happened between them—and knowing that his lack of willpower where she was concerned posed a problem he couldn’t let go unaddressed for very much longer.
HAVEN’S HEAD WAS spinning, and not just from the most amazing orgasm she’d ever had—although that was certainly part of it. Even now, she couldn’t believe that Dare had shattered her to pieces with just his lips and his tongue. But he had, and it had been without question the most intimate moment of her life.
But then, somehow, it had all gone wrong. And Haven didn’t know what she felt most—embarrassment at what she’d let him do and how easily she’d given in to her desire to have him do it, hurt that he wouldn’t let her return the favor, or confusion about why his mood had changed so suddenly. Her heart rate had barely evened out before the shutters had come down over his eyes and face, hiding the hot, fierce desire he’d worn and taking him away from her.
And if all that wasn’t bad enough, she had sand in places you didn’t really want sand. It turned out that sex on a beach sounded more romantic than perhaps it was. Mark that one down as lesson learned.
Although Haven would’ve let herself be buried in sand from neck to toes if Dare would’ve let her explore him, please him, take him in her mouth. That was at least something she had a little experience with, as she’d done it with Zach a few times before her father had forced them apart.
She shook her head as she brushed the sand off her feet and slipped them back into her sneakers. Finished, she turned to find Dare standing behind her, a strange expression on his face.
“Is something the matter?” she asked.
For a split second, she saw the answer in his eyes, and then he glanced to the trail that led down to the parking lot. “We should head back.”
“Just tell me.” She crossed her arms, hugging herself against the feeling of dread settling over her body.
He stepped toward the trail, and she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he turned on his heel and stalked up to her. “You know what? Yeah. Something’s wrong. You lied to me.”
“What? When?” she asked, her mind racing, panic lancing through her veins.
“The fucking reward, Haven. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Jesus.”
The words sucked all the oxygen out of the air. Instinctively, she stepped back, her chin down. “I was going to tell you,” she said, her response sounding as pathetic as it was.
“Oh, so you did know, then. How?” he asked, words clipped, tone full of disappointment.
Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. But no way was she letting them fall. “We heard the guys who held us talk about it.”
“You mean the ones who held you in the storage facility, the Church Gang?” he asked, and then he chuffed out a humorless laugh. “And this didn’t seem like information that you should maybe share with the people trying to keep you safe? Like, say, when I specifically asked you to tell me everything I needed to know?”
Suddenly, all the stress of the past weeks welled up inside her. The escape. The kidnapping. The rescuers they hadn’t known whether they could really trust. The uncertainty of it all. Haven forced her eyes to meet his, anger straightening her spine and making her stand taller. “It did. But it seemed equally like information that could be used against us. As that gang did. It seemed like information,” she said, taking a step forward to close the gap between them again, “that should be guarded until we knew for sure who we could trust.” Standing chest to chest with him, adrenaline shivered through her. “When we talked, I didn’t know if I could trust you, and—”
“And now?” he asked.
“You have to ask?” After everything she had told him, was it possible he didn’t realize how huge it was that she’d opened herself up to him the way she had? That making herself so vulnerable to him could only have happened if she trusted him—in a way she hadn’t trusted anyone in years?
“Yeah, I have to fucking ask.” He nailed her with a stare.
Which meant that despite how bare she’d laid herself open to him, Dare didn’t trust her. And that really freaking hurt, because of everything he and the Ravens were doing for her and Cora. Because she understood why he was mad, even if she thought she’d been justified—at least initially. And because Haven liked him. Really liked him. And wanted him to like her back. “Yeah, I trust you,” she said, forcing her eyes to stay up, to drink in the disappointment he was throwing off.
His jaw ticked like he was clenching his teeth, but finally he gave a tight nod. “Then I need you to not keep anything else from me.”
“Okay,” she said. Part of her wanted to say more—to explain, to defend, to fight—but she didn’t want to make things worse.
After a long moment, he cursed on a sigh and raked his hands through his hair. He paced away, then turned, his eyes flat, expression resigned. “You need to know that I’ve called a meeting of the club’s board to strategize how to deal with the existence of this reward.”
Her stomach dropped to the ground. “What does that mean?”
“It means we have to operate under the assumption that the Church Gang had time to contact your father and let him know you were in Baltimore,” he said, a hard edge slipping back into his tone. “And if that’s true, it means we have to assume that it’s possible for your father to learn what happened to you after the Churchmen lost possession of you.”
Fear had her heart racing and goose bumps rising over her skin. She pressed shaky fingers to her lips, her thoughts racing. Why had she never put it together like that? Why had she stayed put with the Ravens? What if her father or his goons were close, or closing in? “I can’t go back,” she whispered. But then her financial reality closed in on her—she’d stayed because she had absolutely no means of leaving, of running, of starting a new life somewhere far, far away.
“You’re not going back,” Dare said. “Ever.”
The conviction behind his words cut off the sharpest edges of her panic. “But I can’t stay here either. Can I?”
Oh, how a part of her longed for him to respond with the same fierce conviction. But he only said, “Well, that’s part of what we need to discuss.”
It made sense, but it also made her feel like she was losing the one safe place she’d ever found. She’d always known the Ravens wouldn’t let her and Cora just live there forever, but she hadn’t thought her time there would be over so fast, either.
She heaved a deep breath, stuffing all the hurt and regret and sadness down. Burying it deep. Pretending it wasn’t there at all. She had a lot of experience doing that, after all—when you’d lived the life she had, willfully ignoring all the things that could most hurt you became a survival skill. Something that you needed in order to pull yourself out of bed in the morning, to put one step in front of the other through the day, to not go crazy as the darkness of another night closed in on you.
“Then I guess you’re right,” she said. “We should get back. I don’t want to make things any worse than they already are.”