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If You Dare (Dare 3)

Page 35

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I take a chance to look at him, and he has his muscular arms crossed over his smooth and defined bare chest. His skin tan from spending so much time out in the pool over the summer. His dark hair is wet and pushed back off his forehead. His baby blue eyes twinkle as they look me up and down. My legs tighten, and my breathing hitches when he stops on my chest. I remember his lips … my eyes drop lower, scanning over his defined abs. I’ve never seen a boy look so much like a man. It’s hard to believe he’s only eighteen and a fucking bastard.

His eyes move to my bruised wrists. “I’m a little disappointed.” Then they return to mine. “I’d hoped your hands were still tied behind your back.”

My heart begins to race at his words, and my body heat rises. God, it’s like I just walked into a sauna. Sweat breaks out across my forehead, and I rub my hands against my denim-clad thighs. “I came to call a truce.” The words burn my throat as if I just downed a shot of acid.

He tilts his head to the side. “Truce?”

“Don’t act stupid, Deke. We both know you’re not.” I roll my eyes, ignoring the throbbing between my legs.

I’m testing him. And myself. I’ve always been a competitive person by nature. I have to win. And that is exactly why I’m going to take Deke away from my sister. He doesn’t know it yet, but she wants him back. They’re playing this little cat and mouse game right now, but she has no idea she’s got competition. Neither one of them will ever see me coming. Not until it’s too late.

He smirks and stands. My head falls back to rest on the cushion in order to look up at him, towering over me. His stomach muscles flex when he lifts his hands, running them through his wet hair. A smirk plays on his lips while he watches me take him all in. My eyes drop to his sweatpants and the fabric leaves nothing to the imagination—the outline of his impressive dick clearly visible—and he’s not even hard. My mouth begins to salivate. He steps forward, placing his hands on both armrests. Leaning into me, he lowers his face until it’s inches from mine. The smell of his masculine body wash hits me, and I bite my inner cheek to keep from moaning.

“You’re right.” He lowers his voice and licks his lips. “I’m not stupid. And neither are you. I knew you’d fold. I don’t call you Becky for nothing.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I demand. My hands itch to slap him across his pretty, perfect face to see what he’d do. Instead, I clasp them together. Don’t show all your crazy at once, Demi. You’ve got to leave a little surprise.

His blue eyes drop to my chest. I suck in a breath when they linger. Is he thinking what I am? Did he like what he felt last night as much as I did? My boobs aren’t small, but they’re not as big as my sister’s. Did he like mine more or less?

He smirks to himself before pushing off the chair and walking out of the living room and down the hall, ignoring me. His back muscles on full display. I stay transfixed on the way they ripple at his movements. His gray sweatpants sit low on his hips, and my mouth waters at the way the fabric pulls against his round ass. I know he came down here to see me only half-dressed on purpose. He knows how to play the game. It’s also the same reason I dressed up for him. He dated Becky, after all. He likes girls who look a certain way. Even if it’s not the real me, I can pretend.

“Deke?”

“I’m guessing you can see yourself out,” he calls over his shoulder before he turns and walks up the stairs.

“Deke?” I growl, only to hear the door to his room slam, and my fists tighten. Don’t follow him. That’s what he wants you to do.

That’s what Becky would do, and you’re not Becky.

But that’s why I’m doing this. That’s why I allowed him to touch me in the first place. To make him look like a fool. Walking out the front door means he wins, and I’m not about to give in.

“Nature of The Beast” by My Darkest Days begins to play loudly from upstairs, and I grind my teeth at his choice of song.

I take the stairs two at a time and open the first door to my left. A black wooden framed king-size bed sits up against the wall with a deep red comforter. Black glittery pillows decorate the bed along with a couple of others that match the bedding. A large picture of Cole and Austin hangs above the headboard. She’s wearing a beautiful red dress, and he’s dressed in a black tux with a bow tie that matches her. Nope. Definitely not Deke’s room. The moment I open the next door, I don’t even get a chance to look around because I’m yanked inside, and my back is slammed into a wall.


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