Page 10 of Daring You

As it sinks in, I back away, horror washing away any remaining swells of nausea.

“Is this some kind of dare you cropped up?” I ask. “To make me feel special, then laugh at me tomorrow? To gut me and make me feel worthless?”

“What? No. No, Astor.” He straightens from the side of the bed, but I’m still backing away, on my hands and knees, and get to my feet.

“Get out.”

Ben rises with me. “Astor, please.”

“Leave, Ben.”

Before the tears build up. Before the waterfall kills me.

“Not until you understand. Tonight’s a fucked up one, you may not see me tomorrow, but it’s not because of that. It’ll never be because of that.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

He closes the space between us, lays his hands on my arms. “I can’t tell you everything that’s gone on. But I can say this: You mean something. To me. Maybe everything. And I want to give you tonight. To finally touch you, and feel you. You, Astor. Not some girl you’re trying to be. And not some guy I’m trying to leave behind. Just us. Can we do that?” He slides his hands up, trailing shivers in his wake, and cups my neck, his thumbs tracing circles against my jaw. “Can we have that?”

God help me, I can’t say no to him. Not to his beautiful face, all angles and curves. His sharp edges are gorgeous on his cheeks, in his jawline. Mine are in all the wrong places. My hips, my knees and elbows. But he makes me feel beautiful. Even before tonight, with these words, he makes me feel special and important. And that can’t be a facade. If it is, it’d destroy me.

Ben makes my complexion appear flawless. He gives mounds to my boobs, makes my ass thick and sexy. He turns me into a woman simply by laying his eyes on me.

I step back from Ben and his shoulders sag as he thinks I’m denying him. But I lift my shirt, peeling it off and over my head. His nostrils flare at the sight, at the see-through purple lace.

I don’t need these baubles, I think. Not under his appreciative stare. I can remove the frills, step out of the thong, and he would still want to touch me. So I do.

Ben has all of me, and as his stare rakes over every exposed crevice, I shake with fear. He can wax on about how beautiful I am all he wants, but reality is a brutal beast.

Maybe, upon seeing me naked, he’ll reconsider.

Ben’s lips part.

In one step he’s thrown me against him, his hands exploring and stroking and doing sinful things, before his lips lay claim to mine.

And it’s not my mouth.

“Oh…oh, my God,” I say as I wobble on trembling legs. He’s parted my thighs, spread my lips down there, and placed his tongue in parts I didn’t know I possessed. Pleasure zings through my hips, straight to my nipples, and I nearly topple over.

He lifts off just enough to say, “Lean on the wall.”

I catch his eye, and I can’t discern the color anymore, they’re so dark. I do as he asks, since what the hell else would I do, and the shock of my bare back against the cold concrete wall is nothing compared to the ripples Ben’s causing.

I can’t stand. Can’t do it anymore. If I have to hold myself up any longer, I’ll—

“Come for me,” he says, but it’s not at me. It’s into me. The vibrations alone are causing me to bite my lip so hard I’m going to bleed.

“I…”

I’m writhing, balancing on my tip-toes while staring at the ceiling and clawing at the walls like I’m possessed.

“Come on, baby. I want the best taste for last. Come for me.”

Gasping, heaving, I close my eyes, readying for the edge. I can feel it, building at my center, spreading its wings across my chest, a flower blossoming, a spaceship deploying, a nuclear bomb detonating, and I cry out on lift off.

Ben catches me as I go limp, and carries me to my bed. He lays me down gently, hovering above.

“Hey,” he says, stroking my cheek. “Are those tears?”

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