Page 5 of The Dare

Or whatever?

“It’s a stupid dare and I’ll owe you a major favor if you could do me this solid,” she whispers rapidly. “I promise I won’t be weird about it.”

I must admit, I’m intrigued. “So, if I heard you right, you don’t want to hook up with me?” I whisper back, unable to hide my amusement.

“I don’t. I want to pretend to do it.”

Well. I’m certainly not bored anymore.

Getting a good look at her, she’s got a cute face. Not a drop-dead stunner like Demi, but nice. Her body, though. Fuck me. She’s like a walking pinup girl. Hidden under an oversized sweater that’s falling off one shoulder is a set of tits I could spend all night sliding my dick between. I steal a peek at her ass and can’t help thinking about getting her bent over my bed.

But all that evaporates when I see her look up at me with these pleading turquoise eyes and something in my heart just crumbles. I’d be some kind of jackass to turn my back on a woman in such dire need of saving.

“Alec,” I call out without taking my gaze off the pinup girl.

“Yo,” my teammate calls back.

“I’m tagging you in. Kick the captain and his evil girlfriend’s asses for me.”

“On it.”

I don’t miss the knowing chuckles from Hunter and Foster, along with Demi’s loud snort.

The blonde’s uncertain eyes dart past my shoulder to the beer pong table, where Alec has taken my place. “Is that a yes?” she murmurs.

In answer, I sweep a few strands of hair behind her ear and brush my lips against her skin to speak. Because whoever is torturing this poor girl is certainly watching us right now and they can eat shit.

“Lead the way, babe.”

Her eyes go huge, and for a moment I think her hard drive’s crashed. Not the first time that’s happened in my presence. So I take her hand, and then, leaving several shocked gasps in our wake, guide her through the maze of bodies loitering throughout the house. Fact is, I know my way around this place well enough.

As we climb the stairs, I feel the eyes following us. She grips my hand a little tighter as her brain reboots. On the second floor she pulls us into a room I’ve yet to visit and locks the door behind us.

“Thank you,” she breathes the moment we’re alone.

“No problem. Mind if I make myself comfortable?”

“Um, yeah. I mean, no. I don’t mind. Sit if you want. Or—wow, okay, you’re lying down.”

I grin at her visible nervousness. It’s cute. While I stretch out my six-foot-two frame amid the stuffed animals and decorative pillows on the bed, she remains the startled rabbit plastered against the door and breathing heavily.

“Gotta be honest,” I tell her, entwining my hands behind my head, “I’ve never seen a girl so unhappy to be locked in a bedroom with me.”

This has the desired effect of loosening her shoulders and even eliciting a shy smile. “I have no doubt.”

“I’m Conor, by the way.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

“What’s the eyeroll for?” I ask, playing wounded.

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just, I know who you are. You’re, like, campus famous.”

The more I watch her, hands braced at her sides against the door, one knee bent, dirty-blonde hair a little messy and draped over one shoulder, I can’t help picturing myself holding her arms above her head while I explore her body with my mouth. She’s got very kissable skin.

“Taylor Marsh,” she blurts out, and I realize I don’t know how long we were silent until then.

I scoot to the far side of the bed and put a pillow beside me as a divider. “Come on. If we’re going to be in here awhile, let’s at least make friends.”

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