Page 27 of College-Virgin & Dark Bully Next-Door

“Dare.”

She glances at the movie. “I dare you to … to choose a better movie.”

I do, easily, choosing a horror that I love. She groans. I know how much she hates horror. Because she’s jumpy. And she proves it by jumping at the first scare and clinging to my arm. I wrap my arm around her slowly since she’s clinging to my shirt.

“Truth or dare?” I ask in her ear.

She trembles, then looks up at me. “Dare?”

“I dare you to say my name.”

Her fingers brush across my chest, then my shoulder, slipping over my arm. “Ashton Warren. Why do you care what I think?”

“You don’t sugarcoat a damn thing. You don’t hedge to spare my ego.” I hold her gaze. “And you’re pretty fucking cute when your feathers are all bristled.”

She huffs, but her face goes red. She looks at the movie, gasps, then hides her face in my shoulder. I grin and rub down the back of her neck. She mumbles something against me.

“What was that?”

“Why are you confusing me with all this?”

“Am I? I thought I was pretty straightforward.” I almost yell at myself. I know it’s a lie. Because I don’t know what I want. But I like this. I like us teasing one another. I like us playing around. I like our conversations. I like being myself most of the time. I like all of this more than I should. “I’m … curious about you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, are you curious about me?”

“Define the word?”

I groan. “Are you fucking interested? You’re letting me touch you, inviting me over, you’ve checked out my boner multiple times.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish out of water, then she takes a sharp breath. “I shouldn’t be.”

“Which means yes.”

“You have a big fucking ego,” she says.

“You make plenty big,” I tease.

“You make my head all … cloudy,” she admits. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to actually behave. None of …” She looks between us.

I motion for her to finish. When she doesn’t, I groan. “Do you want me to stop touching you?”

“No. I dare you to tell me why you’re … curious?”

“Because I can’t ever predict what you’re going to do or figure you out. Not to mention you’re fucking hot, I say, before letting my head fall back so I can look at the ceiling instead of her. “Even if you’re barely legal.”

“Oh, thanks. Porn references make me feel all fuzzy,” she hisses. “But this doesn’t make any sense at all. I’m just the annoying kid sister. The one you never wanted around. You should be pushing me away and … and telling me I’m ridiculous. Not … this.”

“Would you prefer that?” I ask, serious, focused entirely on her.

She shakes her head so slightly, I’m not sure she notices. I rub down her back, then cup my hand around the back of her neck. I know my hardon is pressing against her thigh. Her tongue flits across her bottom lip, and now all I can think about is how she tastes.

What is wrong with me? Why do I want her like this? Why don’t I care about all the potential problems? Does she feel the electricity cracking between us, the heat that spreads across my skin every time we touch?

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