Bad Intentions (Bad Love 2)

I puff a strand of hair out of my face and look up at the victim of my clumsiness. He’s tall with dark hair, a black tux, and his face painted in skull makeup. He’s creepy hot, which is coincidentally my favorite kind of hot. And then he lifts a brow, as if waiting for me to remove my hands from the silky lapels that sit on his hard chest and…I know those eyes.

“Sorry,” I say quickly and pull my hands back like his suit is on fire. The last thing Dare needs is another girl quite literally falling all over him. I bend over, swiping my hoodie off the sticky floor, and I’m about to walk away, when some girl moves in front of me, blocking my escape.

“Oh my God, Jack and Sally! That is the cutest couples’ costume I’ve ever seen! You guys have to enter the costume contest. You’ll totally win.”

She’s wearing a bunny costume, which is fitting seeing as how she’s talking a mile a minute like the goddamn Energizer Bunny.

“Oh, I’m not—” I start.

“Yeah, no, we’re not—” Dare says at the same time.

“Can I get a picture of you guys?” Energizer Bunny asks, cutting us off. I look to Dare, unsure of how to react. I don’t even know her, but if she’s here, she has to work at one of the participating businesses, so I assume Dare does. He responds by throwing an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close into his side. My insides flip at his nearness, and his scent, a mix of pine trees, wood, and something else I can’t put my finger on, makes it hard to not melt further into him.

I stand, body tense, not wanting him to see how he’s affecting me, and he slides his hand down to my hip. He grips it tight, too tight, but it’s not painful. He pulls me in even closer, dipping his head down to mine, and then his mouth is at my ear, his breath on my neck.

“Relax. I don’t bite. Unless you ask me to.” His thumb rubs my hip through the thin material of my dress, and my breath catches, my mouth popping open slightly. I turn my head toward his, but he faces forward, a devious smirk plastered to his face. And then a flash blinds me.

“One more!” E.B. yells over her lens. I expected her to pull out her phone to snap a quick photo, but clearly, I’m mistaken. A guy I didn’t notice before stands off behind her to her left, out of costume, toting what I’m assuming is her equipment bag, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. She must be an event photographer or something.

“Smile, Logan,” Dare says with another squeeze to my side. I do, giving the biggest, cheesiest one I can muster.

Another flash.

E.B. looks at the display on the camera, seemingly pleased with the shots as she nods to herself, and then she’s off, her assistant following dutifully behind her.

But Dare’s hand is still on my hip, and his eyes are burning into mine. I break away from his hold, making my way back to Sutton, forcing myself not to look back.

Sutton and I dance for a few songs before two guys in Mario and Luigi costumes join us. Mario is hot; Luigi is…well, not. But Sutton is into it, so I’m fine being the wing woman. I see nothing wrong with dancing with them…that is, until Luigi gets handsy. The first time he curves his hand around my hip, I brush it away and look over my shoulder to give him a warning glare. But when I feel his erection press against my ass, I’m out.

Before I can swing around to punch this guy, Dare shows up, arms crossed, looking pissed. And for some reason, that turns me on. A lot.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, eyes narrowed, and it takes me a minute to realize his intentions, my eyes widening with understanding.

Luigi backs up, hands held high in surrender. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know.”

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” Dare warns, before turning to me. “Come with me.” He holds out his hand and I take it, before he leads me toward the door. I look back for Sutton—who is currently still grinding on Mario—knowing I shouldn’t just disappear. But, I’m powerless to this feeling, and I want to see where it leads.

So, I follow.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. But from the moment I saw her dancing to “Monsters,” I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She didn’t dance for anyone else, didn’t care or even notice who was watching. Then, I saw that asshole touching her, and I could see that she wasn’t into it, even from where I stood.

I have no business touching Logan, let alone dragging her off to my shop. But here I am, pushing open the door and leading her to the drawing room in the back of the shop. There are a few people hanging out, playing pool in the main waiting room, but most people are over at the bar.

Logan’s eyes are wide as she takes in her surroundings. She’s never been back here before. The place is deceptively big. When you first walk in, all you see are the front desk, a small sitting area, and some of our shop’s merch. You’d never know all this was back here. We have a piercing booth, which is really more of a room, and four stations in the main room. Then, there’s the big waiting room, a sitting area with a fireplace, a bar, a pool table, vending machines, the works. Plus, another room for even more stations if we had them, a bathroom, and a soundproof drawing room. Which is where I’m taking Logan.

“What are we doing?” she asks, pressing her back flat against the closed door.

“I don’t fucking know,” I say honestly, walking to the other side of the room before I rest my palms on my desk behind me, putting some much-needed distance between us. I’m the one who brought her here. Seeing her in that dress, feeling that soft body against mine…temporary insanity. That’s what it was. Except, I still want to pin her to the wall.

“We could play a game?” she suggests innocently, then her teeth dig into her bottom lip, thighs squeeze together. She’s…turned on.

“What do you have in mind?” My hands clench the edge of the desk, keeping me anchored to my spot.

“Truth or Dare, of course,” she says mischievously.

“Real original,” I taunt. “I choose Truth.”

“Hmm,” she says thoughtfully, her fingertip pressed against her red lips. “What’s your real name?”