Jennifer Probst - Dare Me

“Summer?” His tongue stumbled over her name, the image of a sweet, sunny girl next door-type adding to his disgust.

She stared up at him with frank appraisal. She didn’t answer for a while. Surprise coursed through him as the baby blues started at the top of his head, lowered to his chest, and scanned his arms. Then dropped.

He hardened when her hot gaze caressed him between the legs, and he shifted uneasily. Who the hell is this woman?

Completing her inspection, she nodded her approval. “Rafe, I assume?” Her voice was cool. “You’ll do fine.”

His mouth snapped closed. “Uh, glad to hear it.” A short silence settled between them and she made no move to speak. Just lifted the shot glass and tipped it, then slid her tongue over her plump lower lip to grab the last drop of liquid. He imagined the sting of the tequila hot down her throat, chased by the tart lime she sucked on. His cock strained to full attention. God, how firm would her lips grasp it? Sexual attraction jumped between them like a live wire. He just needed to confirm she was strong enough to handle him. He motioned toward the two empty shot glasses. “Potent stuff. Wouldn’t want you drunk on our first date.”

The wicked grin she shot him transformed her face from angel to Eve. “Don’t worry, I have a high tolerance.” His gaze roamed over her petite frame and he lifted a brow. She laughed. “Let’s share a drink and decide if we want to take this to the suite. Beer?”

“Jack Daniels.”

“Nice.” She lifted her arm for the bartender. He let her order the drinks, deciding to hold back further judgment until he got a better reading. So far, the woman fascinated the hell out of him. They clinked glasses. “To a memorable night,” she toasted. The shot disappeared down her throat without a flinch and she leaned forward. “What do you think?”

His lips quirked in amusement. “About what?”

“About me. About us. About tonight.”

He studied her from over his shot glass. “You’re not what I expected when I signed on for this.”

Instead of being offended, she nodded glumly. “You expected leather and heels, huh? I’m more like the wholesome girl next door. Is it the Keds?”

He sputtered with laughter. “Yeah, the sneakers didn’t help. Look, this is new to me. I come from a background where I yell jump, and a bunch of men ask ‘how high.’ It won’t be easy for me to just snap to attention, and I don’t want to intimidate you.”

She raised her chin. Pure challenge sparked in her eyes. “I understand, and this is all new to me, too. That’s why I didn’t want to meet you at a club dressed to the nines. I can’t help that I look like this. This is who I am day to day. I like a man to buy me dinner and open the door. I love knowing he’s stronger than me, can kick some major ass, and won’t back down from a good, old-fashioned bar room fight. But in the bedroom, I want to be in charge. At least, I think I do.”

He sucked in a breath at her honesty. Hmmm, a bit of a spitfire in a nice, neat package. Isn’t that what he craved? A woman who wouldn’t be afraid to tell him what she wanted, and what she wanted him to do? He was sick to death of being a leader every waking moment. Domination came easily to him, always had. In school his classmates gravitated toward him for captain; he’d always been picked by his teachers to lead group discussions. When he joined the military, his natural confidence and quest for perfection pushed him to the head of the class. He’d risen quickly up the ranks, until he found himself in the scorching desert, leading a brigade of men in war. Every order equaled life or death, with no room for error.

His decision not to re-up changed the game. He went back to Atlantic City with an open mind, and enjoyed getting back to his main love—dealing cards. But when a long line of women with endless needs began draining his energy instead of fueling it, he knew something was wrong. His mind tired of doing all the work, and his body began to suffer. When a gorgeous woman who wanted to be subservient begged for his command and his cock never hardened, he’d gone into hibernation mode.

Maybe he needed Summer Preston.

Maybe.

He raked his gaze over her figure. Tipped back his glass and swallowed the burning liquid. “Let’s go.”

She shot to her feet and pressed a room key in his hands. “Castillo Resorts, the penthouse. Give me a fifteen-minute head start.”

He nodded and watched her disappear into the crowd.

Summer paced the lushly carpeted suite and tried to ignore the flutter in her tummy. In a minute, she’d open her door to an overpowering, sexy male predator who she’d try to subjugate to her every sexual whim.

Yeah, right.

She pushed the doubt firmly out of her mind. Rafe Steele was unexpected. She’d always had a weakness for the tall, dark and handsome type, but the man put them all to shame. Sinfully inky eyes promised a quick trip to heaven, and dark curls begged a woman to thrust her fingers in deep and hang on. His face was all rough planes and angles—sharp cheekbones, a crooked nose, shaggy dark brows, an unshaven chin. His mouth held a sensual, almost cruel curve that stripped away any pretty boy looks and made a man look twice and a woman salivate.

His body appeared rock hard and unforgiving. Even in his black shirt and matching pants, the muscles rippled beneath the fabric. She guessed he topped six feet, but it was the sheer dominance of his presence that pressed upon her. An aura of command when he spoke. He struck her as a man used to being in charge.

She bet women lined up to do his bidding. Yet, he hadn’t backed off when she’d adopted a forceful tone in their conversation. In fact, his dark eyes flashed with a gleam of interest. And lust.

A knock sounded on the door.

Showtime.

She took a deep breath and let him in.

Her throat tightened. Dear God, the man practically exuded sex. Even his scent screamed animal mating, like smoke and musk and earth rolled together. He stalked into her room as though he owned it. He still wore his regulation uniform, pegging him as a dealer, but the silk surrendered to his carved chest and molded to his powerful thighs and ass.

His shocked stare told her she’d done her job well. Satisfaction flared, along with a hint of feminine power. The girl next door had turned into a vixen, and she relished every moment of enveloping sexual authority. The skin tight leather cat suit with heels transformed her from sweet teacher to badass.

She pursed her lips and studied him, making a circling motion with her finger.

“Turn around.”

One brow shot up. His face tightened with a mingling of emotions. Arrogance. Denial.

Excitement.

Yes, he loved taking orders from a woman, as much as she loved giving them. The problem centered on his acceptance and trust of her as a mistress. She ached to give him what he craved, but first he’d have to submit to his own dark desires. A man used to control and leadership in all other areas of his world would be hard pressed to easily accept such a switch of power even if he wanted to.

“What?”

He looked as if he didn’t recognize her from the strip club and had entered the Twilight Zone. Satisfaction coursed through her at his response. “Tonight you will address me as Summer. I have not earned your trust yet to be called Mistress. The rules are simple. You obey my every order without question. If you refuse, you will be punished. Your body belongs to me until dawn breaks. Are we clear?”

He nodded.

Her voice snapped like a whiplash. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes. Summer.” His instant response surged heat through her veins. A tight ache settled between her thighs.

“Very good. You will need a safe word. Think of one you’ll easily remember. If you use your safe word, the scene will immediately stop. We will decide if the evening can continue afterward. What is your word?”

“Blackjack.”

“Blackjack, it is. Now, turn around in a full circle. Slowly.”

The simple test confirmed her assumptions. He obeyed, his muscles tight with tension. He shot her a look hinting he’d do what she said, but she also knew restraints would definitely be needed for the night.

“Your body is incredible. I can’t wait until you’re able to pleasure me. But we’re not ready for that yet. Strip.”

He blinked. Refused to move. She closed the distance between them with two long strides and met his gaze head on. “I don’t like to repeat myself.” Her voice was icy. “Take off your clothes so I can see every gorgeous inch that belongs to me. Hesitate again and you’ll be punished.”

He jolted as if awakening from a dream, and removed his clothes.

She caught her breath. Wide shoulders. Carved muscles, broad chest. Cut abs. The line of a wicked scar ran down his ribs and disappeared into a swirl of dark hair. A heavy erection jutted forward and strained against his black boxers. His thumbs hooked on the elastic and paused. She narrowed her eyes in warning. Then he pushed the fabric down his thighs and stepped out of his underwear.

He stood with his feet apart, hands on hips. She took in the raw male glory. His cock rose to full attention. Her mouth watered and she ached to dip her head and suck on the long, thick length. Her hot gaze traveled over every inch of his body and she nodded in approval then ran her tongue along her lower lip. His cock twitched in response to the gesture.

“Beautiful.” She walked around him for a full inspection. Her fingers clenched at the sight of his tight ass, imagining how he’d jerk in response to a paddling. Pressing her breasts against his back, she placed her hands on his shoulders and stroked him. His muscles jumped under her touch. “I’m already wet,” she whispered in his ear. Her teeth nipped at his earlobe. “Would you like a taste?”