Page 2 of Love Me, I Dare You

I let out a sharp shriek when we fell back onto his bed, his hands still gripping my ass so tight I feared his fingers had become imprinted on my flesh. Without warning, he flipped us so I was pinned beneath his weight, his thick erection pressing into me and letting me feel just how hard he was for me.

Nash was beautiful, but in the room's darkness, his silhouette lit up by nothing more than a dim lamp outside his window, he was entrancing. An alluring shadow of seduction, who looked down at me like I was the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on. I fell deeper and deeper for him, my lust and obsession growing into something so potent I needed to show him just how much I desired him.

Nash’s lips fell to my neck and traced circles along my heated, sweat covered skin. The Carolina heat was at its all-time highest tonight, but the warmth that surrounded us in this bedroom was damn near close to setting it ablaze.

“Bailey, I swear to God. Tell me to stop,” Nash begged, though the gravelly tone in his voice claimed the exact opposite. Calloused fingers continued to slowly trail up my thigh, inching closer and closer to the spot that ached for his touch. My breathing became unsteady, my soft pants the only thing heard in the otherwise silent room. I couldn’t keep still. The feel of his hands on me, his lips teasing me to the point I was a completely wired mess of nerves firing off at a rapid speed, was too difficult to contain.

I wiggled beneath him, and he groaned. His voice was deep, passionate, and slick with desire. It was a tone I would never getused to hearing. One I would never forget. Though as he spoke, I couldn’t see a damn thing. I’d kept my eyes closed for fear that if I’d opened them, I’d realize I was dreaming and he’d be gone.

After all, I dreamt for years of this exact moment. Played it over and over in my mind like a broken record. This fantasy—his hands on me, his mouth on mine, my name on his lips. There was no way in hell I would tell him to stop.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, trying my hardest to say something, anything, when all I could do was moan breathlessly. I’d become a complete mess from the sensation his mouth was giving me. Reaching for him, I got the courage to open my eyes as I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him back up to meet my gaze.

“Don’t Nash, I want this. I want you.”

I sounded so desperate, but Nash groaned in response equally so. It was a dark, menacing sound that made my entire body quiver with need. A need I never imagined would be so intense. It felt like my entire being would explode if he didn’t touch me.

His deft fingers moved quicker, edging closer to my pussy until they met the slick wetness pooled between my lips, but his eyes stayed on mine. They were so dark I could barely see the tint of blue lying within their depths.

“Fuck, baby. I can’t say no to you. I never could. But this Bailey, fuck, this is so wrong.”

“Nash, please,” I begged him, unable to truly ask him what I wanted. I prayed he’d have mercy on me. That he wouldn’t turn me away. I was so sick of his rejection. So tired of having to spend every waking moment thinking of him and for him to not even care I existed. I was willing to do whatever it took to ensure this would happen. I needed Nash Bishop to take my virginity more than I needed air to breathe. I was willingly giving him a part of me no one had ever before deserved. “I want it to be you.”

For a moment I regretted reminding him I’d asked him to deflower me, fearing he’d stop. But we were too far into it. I think nothing would have stopped us.

Sliding his fingers through my arousal, Nash slowly inserted one into my needy pussy, the feeling of him inside me so foreign, yet nothing had ever felt more perfect. My eyes fell shut again, unable to control the pleasure I felt.

“Fuck, B. You’re so fucking tight. If I put my cock inside of you, I might fucking die from dick suffocation.” I tried to laugh at the foolishness of his words, but as he curled his finger inside me, a desperate pant came out instead. “You want this, don’t you, pretty girl?” he asked, and I damn near melted right there and then.

“Aahh.” A desperate moan slipped out of me. I couldn’t speak, simply nodded as my pussy ached and hips ground against him, trying to force his finger deeper inside. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me. So perfect you might ruin me. If we do this, you have to promise me something. I need you to promise me, Bailey.”

“Anything,” I moaned, unable to even think, let alone agree, to whatever it was he was about to ask of me.

His free hand trailed up my naked body and cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line under my eye, urging me to look at him. I opened my eyes and stared up at him in the darkness, only a sliver of light reflecting off of him, yet it illuminated him in a perfect glow.

I looked straight into his eyes as he spoke. “Don’t you dare fall in love, B.”

I nearly gasped at the pain I felt hearing those words. Suffocated by their intention, I held back in fear of what my response might make him do. It hurt so much. What he made me promise that night broke something inside me. Here I was, in love with the guy I’d wanted to be mine for so long, and it’sthe one thing he wanted me to promise not to feel. The threat of this being nothing more than a friend doing a favor—a one-time thing—felt all too real. I knew it’s what I’d signed up for when I’d taken my clothes off for him after he’d turned me away, but I could have never imagined it would hurt this badly to know I meant so little to him.

Not when he meant everything to me.

That night, as he made me the happiest I’d ever been in my entire life, he also broke my heart into a million pieces. A puzzle I knew would never again fit as perfectly as it once had. Especially not when he rode off into the night, taking with him a piece of my heart and kept it sewn onto the edge of his sleeve.

The last night I saw him, Nash Bishop made me promise not to fall in love. The problem was I'd already fallen.

Chapter One

Bailey

Present

My head’s throbbing, my eyes burning from how terribly exhausted I feel, yet here I am, up at the crack of dawn, ready to fake it till I make it. Just as I’ve done for the last ten years. I should be a fucking professional by now, yet everyday it feels like the most trying task to put on a smile and act like my life isn’t in shambles.

At twenty-eight years old, like my dear mama loves to remind me, I should be married with a litter of children, and staying home to care for them and my home, while my husband runs the family business. If it were up to her, that’s exactly what I’d be doing, though I had different plans. Well, not necessarily plans more of going with the flow of what life threw at me and realizing I had no control of my destiny, regardless of what I used to believe.

I wasn’t always this pessimistic. No, I was a true optimist—a girl with hearts in her eyes under her rose colored-glasses, but you want to know what happened? Life. The stubborn bitchmade her appearance and gave me a real nice taste of what she could do. I’m not sure what I ever did to her to deserve it.

“That will be thirty-four ninety-five,” I tell Ms. Pemberly, our twentieth customer this morning, only ten minutes after opening up the shop. It’s just after seven in the morning and yet it’s been incredibly busy, much like every other day since the weather cooled earlier this month.

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