Page 54 of Love Me, I Dare You

The blatant lie slipped so effortlessly from his lips when, just a week before, he swore being with me was a mistake he’d never risk repeating. In a way, I felt used. Worse than that, I was humiliated. I allowed myself to be played yet again by Nash, easily falling for his charm, though I can’t even blame him for it. He was just being himself and I knew damn well what I was getting myself into.

Regardless, I allowed my need for him—the burning desire to be his which built inside of me until it erupted—rule my judgment.

Though on the other hand, I can’t get myself to accept it was all a lie. The fire that burned in his eyes mimicked mine. The way his eyes darkened until there was nothing but a dark blue rim around his irises as he watched me come apart, along with an urgency to make me feel more. The words he spoke, how he tenderly took care of me, helping me when I needed it most.He didn’t take advantage of me. I was a very willing participant, even if I had no clue what I was doing.

However, if I was right, if the carnal yearning in his gaze was unmistakable, then why have I felt so wrong since?

I’ve avoided Nash for an entire week and I’m one hundred percent sure he’s avoiding me. Since I wasn’t allowed back out to HoneyBees, nor down to the bar the first few days after my injury, I dedicated my time to finally putting away the hordes of boxes in my bedroom. It’s embarrassing that I’ve lived here for over six months and yet it somehow still looks like I just moved in. Spending way too much money on my online shopping binge—what else is there to do when you can’t really get up and move around—I ordered a temporary bed, something Nash can use, since the more expensive Murphy Bed I want won’t be a simple task to complete. Turning the spare bedroom into an office is going to have to wait.

Right now, getting Nash out of the loft and into a bedroom where he can stay out of my way in is my priority. Not that he’s spent much time here since he moved in. When he said he would stay out of my way, I didn’t think it meant I’d never see him. But isn’t that what I wanted? What I’d asked him to do?

Nash is typically gone before I wake and comes home well after I’m in bed. That leaves him with no time to sleep since I’m barely running on a few hours of shuteye every night.

His initial offer to care for me while I recovered was quickly rescinded after what occurred between us the morning after. Not that I was complaining, unable to even look him in the eye, let alone allow him to carry me around the apartment and tend to my needs as if I was completely incapacitated. The swelling went down rather quickly, after the minor setback from standing on it for too long in the shower, but I’ve surprisingly hopped around on one foot without breaking my head.

How?I have no freaking clue.

It’s precisely why I’m profoundly grateful to have the most amazing best friends in the world. The two of them took turns stopping by to bring me food, groceries and even assist me in and out of the shower the first couple of days. Yet I haven’t had the courage to confess to either of them what happened between Nash and me. Or how much I absolutely loved it.

I couldn’t dare confess the depths of my complete and utter obsession with the man—greater than any infatuation I had as a young girl. I didn’t tell them how Nash brought me to the edge of two mind-blowing orgasms while he showered me. How could I, when I struggled to look them in the eye for simply asking how things were going with him? Reassuring them, he’d been nice to me while hiding the blush that crept up my cheeks was nearly an impossible feat.

The memories of his kisses are burned into my mind. The gentle caress of his hands on me, and the rough hold on my ass, is branded onto my skin. The searing ache ignited within me as I ground my pussy into him, begging him to have mercy on me and make me orgasm is still raging. The sensual way his tongue traced circles around my nipples before taking them between his teeth and making me writhe in both agony and pleasure is what I crave most.

Nash Bishop is a drug, one I'll easily become addicted to if I let myself. After suffering the worst of withdrawals, I’m aching for another high. I know it will surely ruin me but I don’t mind so long as I get to revel in the feeling of his mouth on my pussy, while his tongue flicks my clit and his fingers inside me promise to bring me to the best, earth shattering climax.

Yeah, I’m still trying to recover from having my mind blown by the man living in my apartment. The man who is nothing like the boy who made my world turn upside down at eighteen.

Billie and Monroe have been relentless since the day after my parent’s dinner, going on and on about how they couldn’t believeNash had shown up with me on the back of his motorcycle and then whisked me away in my brother’s truck. Monroe seemed on edge with the whole thing, reminding me to be careful and not allow him to hurt me the way he had before. Deep down, I think she feels guilty about the way things ended with Nash, even if she had nothing to do with it or had any clue about it for years after. Meanwhile, Billie, along with my little sister, Brynn, romanticized the idea.

Apparently, they weren’t the only ones. They told me once we left, it’s all anyone could talk about. It explains why Brynn has been calling me nonstop, meanwhile my mama has refused to return any of my messages apologizing for missing her special day. I may not have wanted to go in the first place, but I can’t help feeling horrible for letting her down.

Jase’s even stopped by a couple times to check on me, mostly because of some issue at the bar that needs solving, but at least he’s taken the time to offer his help. The only person who’s avoided me is the only one I really want to see. See, I’m losing my mind locked up in my apartment with nothing to do but replay each touch over and over in my mind.

Today marks the first day I’ve left the apartment—a much needed escape after I lay naked in bed, with my hot pink vibrator in my hands, and the image of Nash on his knees between my legs. I was incredibly aroused just picturing how my thighs wrapped around his head, squeezing and keeping him in place as he licked and sucked…Yeah I was not about to get off to the vision of him at my mercy. The things that would do to my libido, I wouldn’t be able to recover from.

After coming home, I headed straight into the shower before changing into something more appropriate for the night than my Sweet as HoneyBees’ tee and black leggings. Since today was my first full shift back at HoneyBees, I am exhausted having spent the entire morning and afternoon baking and trying to come upwith the perfect new desserts for this year’s Harvest Festival. So far, I’ve chosen a butter pecan cupcake with a maple bourbon glaze and graham cracker crumble and a brown sugar corn cake with a delicious peach buttercream frosting and sprig of mint. It took hours of trial and error and I have yet to perfect the recipe, but with only six weeks to go, I’m incredibly behind schedule.

The Harvest Festival is one of HoneyBees’ biggest fundraising events. Visitors from nearby towns and tourists join the locals here in Crossroads for a huge fair on Thanksgiving weekend. Not only is it a cherished tradition, the festival casts a spotlight on HoneyBees and Stingers Tavern alike.

This year I got both establishments booths side by side, allowing me to take part in both. For Stingers, Jase and I will host a beer garden set up alongside our booth, and serve a handful of our more famous beers on tap and some signature cocktails we hope to get on the menu. While HoneyBees will have an array of specialty desserts and drinks prepared just for the festivities.

Once dressed and ready to go, slipping into a pair of sneakers instead of my usual high-heeled boots, thanks to my still healing foot, I unlock my phone and nearly drop it when I see Nash’s name flash on the screen. I wasn’t expecting him to text me, since he’s made it pretty clear he thinks what happened between us was a mistake. Why else would he be the one avoiding me when I was the one who had a complete meltdown and kicked him out after using him to get off?

Unable to handle whatever it is he’s about to say to me, I decide to ignore him, locking the phone and shoving it into the back pocket of my jeans. Locking up the apartment, I head down to the bar, eager to meet up with the girls and finally spend some quality time with them. More than just the few minutes they’ve stopped by between work.

Billie’s holding things down at HoneyBees and also stepping in for me at the bar since we’re short staffed at the moment, and business has significantly picked up in time for the busiest season, aside from summer break. Meanwhile, Monroe’s working tirelessly at the ranch while still managing the rest of Montgomery Builds’ clients, and frankly has way too much going on in her life to worry about my state of mind. She’s yet to tell her brothers about her pregnancy, and I know her avoidance tactic won’t be enough to keep her from having some type of breakdown soon.

Though what I’m most eager to tell them is the plan I’ve been obsessing about during my time spent home alone. With everything going on, I need a distraction and I may have come up with the perfect one.

Entering the bar, I find Billie and Monroe already waiting for me at our usual booth, tucked into the furthest corner of the room away from the band playing on stage, hoping to have an actual conversation. They’re casually dressed similar to me—tight blue jeans and a cute top—though both have on a pair of cowboy boots. Billie’s are a beautiful shade of lilac—I swear she has one in every color. Monroe’s are more simple and all black, having changed out of the usual slippers and pajamas she’s been wearing lately while at her home office. She may work from home, but she usually dresses up for the job since most of her client meetings take place at her and Monty’s house. Though, having spent the morning out at the ranch, she had to dress appropriately for the construction site.

They immediately spot me and wave me over, but I do a quick stop by the bar counter before heading over. I check in on Alexis and Penny, who’s been filling in for the new girl we hired that left after just one shift. Apparently, her boyfriend found out she was serving alcohol to other men that weren’t him and threatened to break up with her if she didn’t quit. It explains theHelp Wantedsign hung up outside the front door and behind the bar registers.

“Hey there, champ,” Billie mocks as she spots me no longer wearing the ugly bandage around my foot. “You sure you should be out and about now?”

I roll my eyes in annoyance. “Bills, I think I can manage having walked down a flight of stairs and another thirty feet to this table.” I hate myself for sounding so bitchy, but I’m just tired of being locked up all day, and not to mention sexually frustrated, I haven’t been able to bring myself to orgasm without thinking of Nash. “But yes, I’m fine. Thanks for checking in.”

“Bailey, are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little off?” Monroe asks, worry etched on the corners of her soft blue eyes. That’s Monroe for you. She may seem tough as nails on the exterior, but lately, she’s been nothing but compassionate and empathetic. Worrying about everyone else except herself.

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