Page 55 of Plight
He part scoffed part laughed. “What would you like?”
“Something fermented: wheat, grains, fruit or vegetables. I don’t care.”
Elliot disappeared into his kitchen and came back shortly after, carrying two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. “Vegetable and grains?” He held up the Maker’s Mark.
I nodded. “Perfect.”
Taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch, he placed the glasses and bottle on the coffee table and poured our drinks, handing me mine as he leaned back, delicately arranged my foot on his lap, and casually draped his hand over the back of the seat. “So … Truth or Dare, huh?”
I twisted my leg a little for emphasis. “Maybe just truth.”
“I think you can manage a dare or two.”
Taking a swig of my drink, the amber coloured liquor heated the very depths of my mouth. “You do, do you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then, dare. Dare me to do something, Lots.”
His ice blue eyes turned dark, and they dropped to momentarily take in my chest.
“I dare you to …” the delicious bastard deliberately paused and it near killed me, the suspense of what he wanted me to do charging my heart rate.
Just about to forfeit and skol my drink, his eyes lit up and he said, “Spock. I dare you to give me the Vulcan Salute.”
“Noooooo!” I cracked up laughing. “You arsehole. You know I can’t do that.”
He raised his hands in defence. “I don’t. For all I know, you could’ve perfected it over the years.”
“Well, I haven’t, so screw you.” I lifted my drink and eyed him aggressively as I sucked it down in one go. “Whoo.” I squinted for a moment, adjusting to the burn.
He pulled a not bad face and poured me another. “Nice start.”
“Thank you. But now it’s your turn. Truth or Dare?”
“I guess it’s only fair I choose dare, seeing as you did.”
“Good. Do this,” I said, poking out my curled tongue, knowing that he couldn’t.
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound sweeping right through me. “Touché, honey. Touché.”
“Ugh! Don’t call me that.”
Elliot downed his drink then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Would you prefer schnookums?”
I laughed. “No!”
“’Cause we can always swap, you know.”
“Did you see your sister’s face when I called you that?”
He chuckled and poured himself another drink. “Yes. It was the best face I’ve ever seen her pull.”
“You’re so mean.”
“She’s meaner.”
Laughing, he sat back again, and whether he realised or not, his hand lightly caressed my foot. It was sweet. “Ready for round Two? Truth or Dare?”
