Page 58 of The Art of Loving Lacy
“I do,” she answered. “Okay, your turn. Truth or dare?”
He locked his eyes on hers and said, “Dare.”
Lacy pointed at him and lowered her chin, looking at him with a seductive leer. “Oh, you naughty boy.” She scooted away from him and set the heel of her foot in the space between his thighs. “Foot rub?” she asked.
Dane could hardly breathe. Who was this little sex kitten that had inhabited sweet Lacy? “Foot rub?” he repeated.
She smiled. “Yup. That’s the dare.”
That tells me nothing.Dane took her petite foot between his hands and began to knead the arch of her foot, pushing his thumbs up the center of her arch, then massaging the sides and tops and moving his hands up her ankle. Lacy leaned her head back on a pillow.
“Oh yeah, that feels good,” she said in a throaty voice.
He moved his hand up, caressing the soft skin of her calf beneath his strong hands.
“Lace?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, her eyes still closed.
“Truth or dare?” he asked.I’m not going to be the one to break the pact.She had to make the first move; otherwise he’d always wonder if he’d pushed himself on her.
“Truth.”
“Why did you ask me here tonight?”
Her smile faded, and she lifted her head. Her dress bloomed open again as she leaned forward and took a long drink of her wine. “I changed my mind. Dare,” she said.
“I’m not sure changing your mind is fair,” he said.
“You can dare me anything you want,” she said with a flutter of her lashes.
Dane clenched his jaw. He had a heck of a list for her. He moved his hands up her calf, past her knee, to the warm skin between her thighs, and caressed her there. She leaned back on her elbows, her body open to him. Her head fell back, and Dane crawled over her. She opened her eyes, and he lowered his face until her exhalations became his oxygen.
“I dare you to tell me what you really want from me,” he challenged.
“Everything,” she whispered. “Everything, Dane. I want everything from you.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her ravenously. She tasted so sweet and familiar, all his pent-up desires rushed forth, leaving him breathless. He reached over his back with one arm and tugged his shirt over his head. His body was on fire as he lowered his mouth to her chin, nipping at the hard edge of her jaw.
A bold look rose in her eyes, and just as quickly, it turned dark and seductive. “Truth or dare?” she said in a sultry voice.
“Truth?” he asked.
“How long has it been since you were with another woman, exactly?”
He closed his eyes. He knew exactly how long it had been. He’d stopped sleeping with other women three months after meeting her. But he couldn’t tell her that. What kind of man relies on self-gratification to satiate a need that’s driven into him night after night by a woman who’s too far away to touch?
“Lace, please,” he said.
“I could give you a dare,” she said. “But I prefer the truth.”
A defeated sigh escaped before he could stop it and he said, “More than a year.”
“More than ayear?” she repeated incredulously. “You can be honest with me, Dane.”
“It’s true. Remember that night you told me about your father? The night you cried?”
She wrinkled her forehead. “Yeah.” Her voice was just above a whisper.
