Once Upon a Dare Page 2

  Maybe he’d been wrong about her after all. She was definitely interested, but would she act on the impulse?

  Chapter Two

  Hoping to calm her unsteady nerves, Olivia sucked in a deep breath as she approached the bar. Was she really doing this? And, oh God, what if she made a complete fool of herself? What if he wasn’t interested? Maybe she’d imagined the spark between them? She exhaled slowly.

  Confidence in the bedroom had never been an issue for her, but she’d also never set out to seduce a complete stranger before. She was out of her league and it took all her self-restraint not to glance back at the table where Chloe was waiting for the check.

  What was the big deal anyway? It wasn’t like she’d be giving up her virginity, for crying out loud. Her v-card was long gone, no thanks to the ineptitude of Danny Reid and one highly overrated prom. This was just sex. As long as she remembered how to do it, things would be fine. Probably.

  When she stepped up to the heavily lacquered bar, the perky blond bartender was quick to take her order.

  “What’ll you have, hon?” she asked, as she wiped down the scarred counter.

  “Dirty martini,” Olivia replied without hesitation. If she was going down the path of seductress, she might as well put on her big girl panties and commit one hundred percent. She hated to admit it, but there was no escaping a childhood spent chasing pageant crowns without learning a thing or two about catching someone’s eye.

  Olivia zeroed in on the TV above the bar as she waited for her drink. The Penguins and Rangers were duking it out in a particularly brutal looking third period. She didn’t have much time for sports and knew just enough about hockey to be dangerous in conversation, but it helped settle her frayed nerves nonetheless.

  Nothing like a bunch of hulking, over-sexed guys slugging it out to set a girl at ease.

  “How much?” she asked when the bartender returned with her liquid courage.

  “No charge,” the blonde replied through suddenly tight lips. “The gentleman at the end of the bar took care of it.”

  “Oh, well, thanks.” Olivia felt a slow flush creep into her cheeks as she turned and smiled at the sexy stranger. He dipped his head in acknowledgement and a wave of dark hair fell over his forehead.

  Her pulse thundered.

  And she’d thought he couldn’t get any hotter. So much for that. At least she had an opening now. After all, he’d just bought her a drink. It would be rude not to thank him personally, wouldn’t it?

  Olivia made her way to the end of the bar. She chose the stool to his left and sat down without asking permission. He was alone and looking for company. The martini she held in her right hand was proof of that.

  “Are you in the habit of buying drinks for strangers?” she asked, crossing her legs and bumping his in the process. Their knees brushed and a current of electricity flowed through her, reminding her just how long it had been since a man had touched her.

  “Only the pretty ones,” he returned, with a cocky grin.

  Worst. Line. Ever. Olivia burst out laughing, releasing the nervous energy that had collected in the pit of her stomach. He might be to-die-for gorgeous, but his pick up game could use some work.

  “If that’s the best you’ve got, it’s no wonder you’re sitting here alone on a Friday night,” she teased, relaxing in spite of herself.

  “You’re smiling, aren’t you?” he asked, raking a hand through his inky black hair and pushing the loose strand back from his forehead.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t get out much,” she replied, holding his gaze.

  Up close, she was surprised to discover his eyes were a startling shade of gunmetal gray. They were like nothing she’d ever seen before. The color was a sharp contrast to his fair skin and dark hair, but it had nothing on his smile. She’d always been a sucker for good teeth and dimples, and he had both behind that five o’clock shadow.

  The devilish grin that he flashed hooked upward on the right side, and her pulse soared. She prayed he couldn’t feel the heat rolling off her. If a bump of the knee and a flash of dimples made her feel this way, what would it be like to really touch him? She wanted to find out. Whether or not she could handle it was an entirely different question.

  “One of those all work and no play types?” His words hung between them, heavy with sexual suggestion. Any other day she would have dismissed the line, but not tonight. His boldness had her stomach churning and her heart racing. This was a man used to getting what he wanted and tonight he wanted her. It was a heady feeling unlike any other.

  “Something like that,” she replied.

  “Then it must be my lucky day. Cole Bennett,” he offered, reaching to shake her hand. “And you are?”

  “Olivia Masterson.” She met him halfway, her delicate hand slipping inside of his as he enveloped her fingers in warmth. A tingle danced over her skin and she felt her cheeks redden at his touch. There was no doubt about it—Cole Bennett was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Very nice to meet you, Olivia Masterson.” He released her hand, giving her a pang of disappointment. She wanted that tingle back, damn it! “You see, it’s my first night in the city, so it must be luck that our paths crossed, seeing as how you don’t get out much.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “True story,” he swore, placing his hand over his heart and drawing her eyes south to his muscular shoulders and broad chest. He wore an expensive Italian suit that reeked of money, but it did little to hide his solid torso. If anything, the tailored jacket emphasized his perfection. “I just moved from England,” he explained.

  “And yet you have no accent,” she noted as she plucked an olive from her glass. “Too bad. Women love a man with a sexy accent. Find them irresistible, actually. I’d say a British accent would do wonders for your otherwise lacking pick up lines.”

  Unable to resist goading him, she slipped the olive between her glossy lips and smiled, curious to see how he’d respond.

  “Sexy and sassy. A dangerous combination in my experience,” he mused as he studied her.

  She gave him her best “Who me?” look and sipped her martini.

  “Can I tell you a secret, Olivia?” His tone was conspiratorial as he leaned in, turning his smoky eyes on her. She didn’t know much about the fine art of seduction, but she knew shrinking wallflowers weren’t sexy. Refusing to back down and determined to make good on the dare, she closed the gap between them, leaning forward until their shoulders brushed. She raised her brow in reply.

  “I thought your friend was never going to leave.”

  “Is that right?” she asked, smiling as she drew out her inner flirt. “Better watch your manners, Cole Bennett, or a girl might get the sense you don’t play well with others.”

  “I don’t,” he growled. His gaze rolled over Olivia, lingering on her mouth. There was no doubt about his meaning, or the tension simmering between them. She fought the urge to lick her lips, wondering if he tasted as sinfully good as he looked. “When I see something I want, I find a way to make it mine. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to share.”

  His expression was hunger in its purest and basest form. She swallowed, not trusting her voice. Desire surged from between her legs. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had made her feel so sexy.

  Forget the dare. She was riding a wave of pure, animalistic need that demanded to be unleashed. It didn’t make any sense. She was as straitlaced as they came, and Cole was a virtual stranger, but Olivia wanted him more than she’d wanted any man in a very long time. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know what he did or where he lived. It only mattered that she know what he felt like inside her.

  She took a final sip from her martini glass, solidifying her resolve. Her heart hammered so hard in her chest she was sure he would know she was a fraud. She was probably the only twenty-eight-year-old in the city who couldn’t check the “one-night stand” box on her resume.

  That was about to change.

  “Y
our place or mine?”

  Surprise flickered across his face, but was quickly replaced by a grin. Her heart fluttered and she was grateful for the support of the stool. Without it she would’ve surely melted into a helpless puddle on the floor of the bar. Cole Bennett had a killer smile.

  “I’ve got a room at the hotel across the street.”

  “Perfect,” she replied, slipping off the stool and planting her feet firmly on the hardwood floor.

  He pulled out his wallet and threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar. In one swift motion, he placed his hand on the small of her back and turned her toward the door. Before she could think too much about what she was doing, he was gently guiding her through the bar and out onto the busy sidewalk of Manhattan with a gesture that spoke of possession.

  They didn’t talk much as they made their way across the street and through the hotel lobby. It was a comfortable silence, but the anticipation building within her was unbearable. She was enjoying the warmth of Cole’s touch on her back, but she wanted more—much more.

  …

  Cole watched the elevator creep down to the lobby and silently cursed his room on the thirty-fifth floor. Why hadn’t he booked a room on a lower level? The answer was obvious, but as he admired Olivia’s reflection in the gold plated doors ahead, he cursed again.

  Truthfully, he hadn’t thought she’d have the guts to leave with him, but now that they were in the hotel, he was going to make damn sure she had an unforgettable night. This woman was sexy as hell and he wasn’t taking any chances. He had to know if she felt half as good on the inside as she looked on the outside.

  When the elevator finally reached the landing, the doors opened with a quiet whoosh and he stepped inside. He turned to see her hesitate briefly and his stomach dropped. Indecision was written all over her face, but damn, she was beautiful even with doubt clouding those baby blues. He wanted to take her in his arms and show her what she’d be missing, but this had to be her choice. His erection strained against the unyielding fabric of his dress pants. Christ, if she walked away now, he’d be taking one hell of a cold shower.

  His patience was rewarded when she stepped forward, a half-smile lighting her slender face. He reached for her hand and pulled her close as her fingers interlaced with his.

  “Which floor?” she asked, reaching for the control panel with her other hand.

  “Thirty-five.” He paused as she pressed the button. “You know, I was starting to think you’d changed your mind,” he murmured, sliding his free arm around her waist and pressing her body to his. Olivia was tall, maybe five-foot-nine, but with heels she was just the right height to rest her head on his shoulder.

  “Are you calling me a tease?” she challenged, tipping her head back to look him in the eye. Her breasts swelled against his chest with the change of position, and his cock strained even harder against the zipper of the unforgiving pants.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He brought his hand to her mouth, dragging his thumb roughly across her full bottom lip. He felt a shiver race down her spine as her hips arched toward him. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about all the ways I’m going to make you come.”

  Before she could reply, he pressed her against the side of the elevator and brought his mouth to her ear. “And I always get what I want, Olivia Masterson.”

  Sliding a hand up her back, he lowered his mouth and placed a soft kiss just below her ear. Then he traced a line down the gentle curve of her neck with his tongue, savoring every inch. She tasted like a summer breeze, light and sweet. How it was possible, he didn’t know and didn’t care. He just wanted more. He nipped at her skin, pinching it gently between his teeth, and she sighed with pleasure, her body melting into his.

  There was a lot of repressed sexuality under her businesslike exterior, and he suspected it had been a while since she’d allowed herself to give in to passion and lose herself in a man’s embrace. He moved his mouth up Olivia’s neck and chin, coming to rest on her lips. She responded savagely, her tongue darting into his mouth with surprising intensity. Oh, yeah, she would definitely be a screamer.

  A bell chimed, shattering his concentration. He’d nearly forgotten they were in the elevator and was on the verge of tearing her clothes off. Desperate to get behind closed doors, where he could do all sorts of wicked things to her, he pulled back from her grip.

  Undeterred by the lack of privacy, she grabbed his silk tie and led the way with the confidence of a woman who was about to get exactly what she wanted.

  Chapter Three

  The door fell shut behind Olivia and she knew the time for second thoughts had passed. Not that she was having second thoughts, exactly. More like nerves. A bad case of I-haven’t-had-sex-in-three-years-and-I-hope-I-remember-how-to-do-it-right nerves.

  Cole, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease as he moved purposefully through the penthouse suite. She followed him, unsettled by the opulence. Travertine floors. Marble topped bar. And was that…? No, it couldn’t be. A baby-freaking-grand piano! The place made her apartment in Midtown look like a flop house by comparison.

  He tossed his jacket on the back of a chair and loosened his tie. When he turned his attention to her, all rational thought evaporated under the heat of his stare. As he crossed the room, her heart fluttered and her breath hitched uneasily. The slow burn that had been circulating through her for the last twenty minutes simmered just below the surface, crackling like fire and releasing a rush of adrenaline.

  “There’s nothing sexier in the world than a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it,” he murmured, cupping her chin and raising her lips to his. He stopped just short of kissing her. “Do you know what you want, Olivia?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, wondering if he wasn’t the real tease. She hadn’t come there to talk, and judging by the bulge in his pants, neither had he.

  “What do you want?” he asked as his hand skimmed the length of her neck and burned a trail down the front of her blouse.

  The first button came undone with a flick of his fingers.

  Olivia searched for a clever reply that wouldn’t come. His fingers moved deftly from one button to the next and she trembled with the longing to feel his mouth on her again, to taste his vodka-tinged lips.

  “I should think it’s obvious what I want,” she gasped. God, how could he think about words at a time like this? All she could think about was the ache between her legs.

  “I want to hear you say it,” he commanded, moving his hands inside her blouse and over her breasts, gently massaging her nipples through the soft lace of her bra until they were fully hardened and begging for his kiss.

  Cole kept his eyes locked on her as he worked her breasts, making it impossible to think about anything but her desperate need for him and the fact that she despised the wretched clothes separating their bodies.

  Olivia shrugged out of her blouse and his agile fingers unhooked the bra, baring her breasts for further exploration. He rolled her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger and Olivia moaned with pleasure. His hands were perfect—soft and gentle, but sure and firm at the same time.

  It wasn’t enough. She needed more and she needed it now.

  Unable to wait any longer for the feel of his tongue, she guided him to the rosy bud. She threw her head back and whimpered as he sucked her into his warm mouth, circling her breast with his tongue. Only when he closed his teeth over the peak in a playful bite did she look down to meet his eyes.

  “I want to hear you say it,” he repeated, his words swirling seductively through her head, creating images so dirty she didn’t dare speak them aloud. “Tell me what you want me to do to you, or we’re done here.”

  Oh, God. She had never been the type to talk dirty or even really articulate her needs, but she was fairly certain, judging by the determined look in his eye, that he might call the whole damn thing off if he didn’t get his way right there, right then.

  Only that wasn’t an option.
>
  “Tell me, Olivia.”

  She licked her lips and brought his face back up to hers. Kissing him with a ferocity that had been suppressed too long, her mouth slanted over his without restraint. She grabbed the back of his head and ran her fingers through his unruly hair, enjoying its softness, as her tongue parted his lips. When he tried to pull back, she held on tighter, biting down firmly on his lower lip in retaliation.

  “I want to feel you inside me. I want you to give me a mind-blowing orgasm the likes of which I’ve never experienced before and I don’t care how you do it. Are we sufficiently clear now?”

  A low growl rolled off his lips. “Do you want my fingers?” he asked, unzipping her skirt and letting it drop to the carpeted floor.

  “Yes,” she whispered, thankful she had chosen to wear a thong with the fitted skirt and not granny panties. Cole ran his hands over her bare backside, which he palmed and used to pull her close. His erection pressed firmly against her belly.

  She forgot all about her panties.

  “What about my tongue?” He sank to his knees, running his mouth down her stomach from her navel. Her bare flesh prickled when his tongue made its way south.

  “Yes.” She was vaguely aware that she was down to panties and heels and hadn’t gotten even one of his buttons undone. It was hard to care when he was touching her like this, though.

  “What about my cock?” he teased, looking up at her as his skilled fingers tugged at the waistband of her lacy underwear. Taking extra care to caress every inch of her feverish skin along the way, he pulled them down.

  Her body shook with anticipation. “Yes,” she begged, desperate to ease the ache he’d created, and willing to take whatever pleasure he was offering.

  When his hands slid back up her calves, he forced her knees apart, leaving her fully exposed.

  She sighed as he pulled her hips to his face and kissed her, nearly sending her into orgasm at the first touch. She had never been so ready for a man in her life. She needed Cole Bennett inside her right-freaking-now.