I Dare You (Truth And Dare Duet 2)

Lila groaned into our kiss and opened her mouth for me. I wanted to possess her – her heart, her body… her mind. Fuck, I must have completely lost it.

There was nothing sweet or gentle about this kiss.

I punished her with my teeth and my tongue, still mad that she even considered leaving me behind.

Walking… away… from… me.

My fingers gripped her nape, and she let me brutalize her mouth, whimpering but not pulling away. My teeth grazed her lower lip, feeling it swell, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I must have cut her… or she bit me hard enough to draw blood. I didn’t know. I didn’t know where I started and she begun.

Her nails dug into the skin over my heart, and I hissed against her bruised lips. I pulled away, only slightly. Lila’s chest heaved with every labored breath she took. Her lips were swollen and red, ravished. Beautiful. Mine.

My breath lingered over her lips, before I pressed my mouth against hers again.

Feel me.

Everything about this kiss was… sweet and tender.

I kissed her as if it was our first kiss – how I should have kissed her the first time – when we were seventeen years old. When we had been too young and too stupid.

Lila melted in my embrace, her arms curling around my shoulders.

“I dare you to kiss me,” I rasped between our kisses, throwing her own words back at her. She dared me last night, it was my turn now.

“I dare you to stay.” My lips touched hers again. Feel me.

My heart thudded in my chest. Lila trembled in my arms, but it wasn’t from the cold. She dug her fingers harder into the curve of my shoulders.

“I dare you to give us a chance,” I said, looking into her dark, muddled eyes. “I dare you, Lila.”

When I claimed her lips again, I didn’t let go.

I knew Lila was going to fight me on this, but I had to find a way to convince her to stay.

I wanted her to need me, the same way I needed her.

The perks of being Lila’s best friend for almost four years…

I knew how to break through her walls, tear apart the carefully put together pieces of her heart.

And break her, I would – so I could put her back together and make her fall for me.

There was no other option.

We were going to break each other.

I couldn’t find myself to regret last night because it was every bit as beautiful and wild as I had dreamed it to be. But I was already feeling regret for what was about to come. Heartbreak – that was the only ending.

I wanted him.

Maddox wanted me.

It should had been easy.

But…

What about after?

This – Paris – was our safe cocoon, but what about after…when we’d go back to the real world?

A groan escaped me, and my head fell into my hands, feeling helpless and so… confused. Maddox was simply maddening and so goddamn stubborn.

“Breakfast doesn’t suit you?”

My head snapped up, and my gaze found his. My mouth went dry as I gaped at him.

Maddox leaned against the door that led to the balcony, where I was currently sitting. He crossed his ankles, and his lips twitched with a grin. He was barefoot and freshly showered, his hair still wet and droplets of water lingered over his bare chest and thick arms, as if he hadn’t bothered to dry himself.

His jeans hung loosely around his hips, halfway zipped, unbuttoned and unbuckled. My eyes lingered over his wide chest far longer than I intended, his nipple piercing catching my attention. The silver barbell was enticing as I remembered the feel of it on my tongue last night, my teeth grazing his nipple and the tip of my tongue flickering over his piercing.

I flushed at the reminder. My gaze lowered to his hard-cut abs and the perfect trail of hair, a shade lighter than the hair on his head, leading from his navel to his…

Oh shit, he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

My head snapped up, but it was too late. Maddox had caught me checking him out, and he was now giving me a dirty smirk. There was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes as he walked into the sunlight and onto the balcony of our – his – hotel room. One of the finest hotels in Paris, our master suite had its own balcony, with a little breakfast area – an outdoor sofa and coffee table. It gave us the perfect view of the Eiffel tower. One could easily eat a French baguette, while admiring France’s famous landmark.

Maddox stopped next to the coffee table and nodded toward the tray. “You haven’t eaten yet. Not hungry?”

As if I could eat in this situation.

He perched himself on the coffee table, sitting directly in front of me and practically crowding into my personal space. Maddox reached for a chocolate croissant and brought it to my mouth, silently waiting, silently demanding. My lips parted, and I took a small bite.