Page 4 of How Dare You

Dim headlights precede the high-pitched hum of an electric golf cart heading our direction as we approach the clubhouse. My eyes go wide, and Rhett uses our locked hands to pull me against his chest and press me tightly against a nearby tree. He plants his free hand on the trunk above my head, leaving me completely surrounded by him in a way I can’t bring myself to mind.

“Security doesn’t patrol like they—” I start to tease him, but my whisper is cut off as his muscular chest presses more firmly against mine.

“I got you,” he whispers in my ear before looking over his shoulder, his eyes on something other than me for what feels like the first time all night. Bodies locked together, he inches us around the tree, our steps louder than I’d like against the dirt and tree roots. But the golf cart disappears in the opposite direction without noticing us. Before I have a chance to react, he whispers, “Almost there,” and we’re moving again. We make a wide circle, avoiding the clubhouse and its surrounding courtyard altogether.

“We’ve got to duck for this part, to avoid the cameras,” he says, pointing at the long line of tennis courts hedged in with tall chain link fences and carefully manicured shrubs. We run-duck the entire way down the concrete sidewalk that lines the courts, both breathless by the time we reach the end.

“Hell on the quads, isn’t it?” he laughs as we come up to our full heights again.

“It really is,” I breathe.

“We made it.” He points to a swimming pool, separated from us only by a sidewalk that switchbacks down a steep hill. Late night swim. Should have guessed. We sneak through the trees all the way around to the far end until we reach another chain link fence, this one low enough for me to look over. “You need a hand?” he asks.

“Nope, got it.” I tuck the toe of my thick-strapped espadrille into one diamond shaped opening in the fence. Propping my hands on the top, I swing myself over and land on the other side.

In one smooth motion, he launches his athletic form over the fence and lands next to me. “That was kind of sexy,” he says, walking toward the pool.

Looking around at the darkened corner of the pool deck brings a moment of clarity. What am I doing? Rhett’s on vacation. There aren’t any real consequences to him if we got caught, but half my clients belong to this country club, and the security guard could come back at any minute. I take a step back toward the fence.

“Where you goin’, mama?” Rhett asks, peeling his shirt off with one hand at the back of his collar. “Don’t leave me now. We’re just getting to the good part.” Even in the dark, the cut of his broad shoulders and firm muscular chest snags my attention. Thoughts of leaving disappear. He unbuttons his fly and tucks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and, I’m assuming, his boxers. “You in?” he asks, his million-dollar smile inviting me to come play just as much as his bare chest and unbuttoned pants are.

Can’t back down now, Blake. I untie my ankle straps and unbuckle my leather watch, setting them carefully on the lounger next to me. My hands go to the hem of my dress, which I take my time drawing over my head until I’m wearing only my black bra and panties.

“Damn, look at you,” he says, a touch of awe lacing his regular jovial tone. Then the thumbs of those tanned hands are pulling down his pants and his boxers in one movement, and he’s standing before me, fully naked, for just a heartbeat before launching into the pool with a loud splash. He surfaces and swims over to fold his tattooed arms on the edge of pool closest to me. “If I’d known that’s all it took to get you to smile, I would have whipped my dick out hours ago.”

I am smiling. He got me so preoccupied with watching him that I forgot I was trying not to. “It wasn’t your dick.”

“No?” He looks down in the water, an exaggerated pout on his lower lip.

“It’s just—” laughter starts to take over my words, “this is absurd.”

“It would be less absurd if you were in the pool too. Am I gonna have to come get you?” He pushes up on the concrete edge, bringing his bare chest above the lip of the pool and revealing a few more tattoos in a similar style to the ones on his arms.

“No, no.” I continue laughing. Why not? I’ve come this far.

Rhett makes no effort to hide his perusal of me as I unhook and discard my bra and slide off my panties. “Goddamn.” He shakes his head slowly side to side, keeping his eyes on me. “I’m lucky that asshole was a terrible date.”

“You really are.” The balmy near-summer air clings to my skin as I make my way to the diving board. Its surface grips the soles of my feet as I walk to the end and try not to focus on what the chlorine will do to my hair as I line my body up for a dive. With a deep breath in, I launch myself into the air, pointed hands breaking the water’s surface a moment later.

When I come up for air, Rhett’s treading water in front of me. Water droplets clump his lashes into thick points while others run down his face and neck to the top of his pecks, before disappearing into the pool. Carefully, he moves a section of my hair off my forehead, letting his hand linger on my face. “The wrong thing feels pretty right, doesn’t it?” he whispers into the charged air between us, one hand going to my waist under the water, drawing me closer to him.

If any of my friends saw me now, they wouldn’t believe it was me. I’m naked, trespassing in a country club pool while wrapped in the arms of a stranger. I hardly believe it. My eyes dart over Rhett’s shoulder, looking for the inevitable return of the security guards.

“No one’s coming,” he reassures me. “We’d hear them, I promise.” The hand at my waist draws me closer, pulling me flush against him again, like we were against the tree trunk. Only now we’re skin against skin, his firm chest rubbing against my hardened nipples just beneath the surface of the water.

His biceps warm my back as he wraps his arms around me, cupping the back of my head and tilting me to look up at him, his hard cock presses into my thigh as our treading legs tangle. “You ever been skinny dipping before?” he asks.

In my backyard. My lips turn up a little on one side, “Not like this.”

“There you go restraining your smile again.” Water droplets splay in every direction as he shakes his head. “Can’t have that.” Holding me steady in the water, he leans in to press our lips together in a powerful kiss.

Now I’m naked in a pool I just broke into, and I’m kissing a stranger. This isn’t me. But the overwhelming presence of him wrapped around me as his lips hold me captive is too hypnotic to allow me to surrender any of the contact.

Rhett’s not in any rush to let me go either. His mouth opens, letting his tongue slip between my lips where the brief taste of chlorine is replaced by whiskey and then the powerful sensation of him. He delves in, wild and curious, licking, sucking, and exploring my mouth in a way that clears every thought from my mind. Turns out the stare-off champ has other skills too.

After long minutes lost in his kiss, he teases his teeth across my bottom lip and pulls back just enough for us to see each other. “Tell me something.”

Breathless and dazed, it takes me a moment to respond. “Just something?”

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