Page 62 of Fun and Games
"Your turn," I told Mason. "Truth or dare."
"Truth."
"You took me home only hours after meeting me." I kept my eyes trained on him, looking for any hint that he was going to lie. "How many women have you slept with after only knowing them for that long?"
"Not many," he said. "Probably fewer than you think, considering the whole rock-music lifestyle thing."
"Do you have an exact number?" I asked.
He began counting on his fingers silently, pausing every few seconds.
"I can't remember all their names, but it was maybe half a dozen or so," he said.
I nodded, satisfied. It wasn't that I was going to judge him, or that I was jealous. I had simply been wondering how common it was for Mason to bring girls home from the bar. He'd ensnared me so smoothly, I'd imagined he was well practiced.
Of course, that didn't mean half a dozen was the number of people he'd slept with total, but I didn't think I wanted to know that number, considering mine was currently sitting at two, including him.
"Truth or dare?" Mason asked me.
"Dare," I said, bracing myself.
"I dare you to give me your panties."
"What!" I squawked, then put a hand to my mouth to silence myself. "Are you insane?" I hissed behind my hand.
An evil smile crossed his lips.
"Take off your panties, Bree." His voice took on that commanding tone he only used in the bedroom. My breath quickened. A slow pulse throbbed between my legs.
It was embarrassing and naughty, and for some reason, I really wanted to do it.
"Fine." I stood up to go to the bathroom. He grabbed my wrist and tugged me back down.
"No," he said. "Do it right here."
"Are you kidding me?" I asked, eyes growing wide.
"Reach under your skirt and take them off," he said in a tone that told me refusal wasn't an option.
My insides fluttered. My face went hot.
With a furtive glance around to make sure no one was watching, I lifted my hem, tucked my thumbs under the elastic band and quickly pulled them over my hips and down my legs. I snatched them from around my ankles and passed them into Mason's waiting hand under the table. He tucked them into his jeans pocket.
"You're a dirty boy," I accused him.
"Says the girl who's wearing a scrap of lace for undies."
"You didn't seem to mind that scrap of lace the last time you tore them off me." I tugged on my skirt, making sure it was back into its proper place. "Truth or dare?" I asked him.
"Truth."
"You're being a scaredy-cat, worried I'm going to try and get you back, aren't you?"
He leaned back in his chair easily with only a single raised eyebrow.
"Fine," I said. "How many relationships have you ever been in?"
A look of distress flashed across Mason's face, then it was gone, but it had been there long enough for me to take notice and wonder at it.
