Double Dare(282)

“Don’t forget the butter,” added Chris helpfully, pushing a huge tub of the good stuff towards me. “Everything’s better with butter,” he said with another wink, seating himself on the stool next to me and helping himself to a short stack.

And so my introduction to my ten days wasn’t scary or weird at all. In fact, it seemed like a completely harmless breakfast with an older man, one who was funny and charming, one who went out of his way to cook for me, make me laugh, put me at ease. I could almost say that there was nothing to worry about, except reality had to intrude at some point. Once the last bite of pancakes was finished, I leapt up and began clearing the plates.

“Here, I’ll clean,” I said with a smile at the big man, “You cooked so I’ll clean, it’s fair.”

But Chris’s hand came down over mine, his big palm square, the fingers blunt and oh so warm.

“That can wait,” he rumbled deep in his chest, his eyes electric suddenly. “We have some things to talk about.”

And my breath caught in my throat, my fingers stilling on the plates.

“Um, of course,” I said, “Just give me a minute to clean up and we can talk all you want,” I said with a sassy smile before fleeing to the bathroom.

I could hear plates clinking outside as I stared at myself in the tiny powder room mirror. Everything about me looked normal, the same brown curly hair, the same big caramel eyes except that there was a new awareness humming all through me, my lips trembling slightly, a little more pink than usual, my eyes were especially bright.

Calm down, I directed myself. You signed up for ten days with Mr. Jones and you know what you’re getting yourself into. It’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, I reassured myself.

So taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the kitchen once more, smiling brightly.

“Ready schmeady, I’m at your disposal,” I teased with a confidence I didn’t quite feel, and the big man quirked an eyebrow at me before shutting off the water, turning to look at me with a dishtowel draped over his shoulder, crossing his arms over that broad chest. Oh god, he looked so good, that white towel was so small and limp draped over a strong shoulder, the contrast only highlighting his masculinity. Again, I could feel myself losing control, spinning helplessly once more in his powerful orbit, drawn magnetically by his aura of confidence.

And the big man’s eyes deepened as he took me in, becoming fathomless, magnetic pools.

“Good,” he rumbled, a hand reaching out to stroke my cheek. “Because I can’t fucking wait anymore.”

And with that, he swept me into his arms, lifting me up to press my curvy form against his big one and smashed his mouth onto mine, all the while striding through the living room and up the stairs, kicking open a door before depositing me on a huge bed.

“Oh!” I squealed, bouncing up and down, everything about me flying in all directions. “Oh!”

I got a glimpse of dark furniture, heavy, solid, contrasted against cream white walls before I was pushed back onto the navy bedspread, Chris’s big hands helping to pull the sweatshirt over my head, strip off my jeans, my socks, my everything, until I was completely bare in front of him, every inch nude, creamy and white, spread before his gaze.

And I had another instant of momentary shock, of “What the fuck am I doing?” Because a waft of cool air trailed over my nipples, making them tingle almost painfully, while another one trailed between my thighs, blowing sense into me, and I tensed automatically, pushing my legs together, my virginal instincts on high in the presence of an alpha male.

But Chris was on it in a sec, he noticed every small reaction of my body, every small shudder, every quick, indrawn breath.

“No baby,” he murmured, trailing one big hand up my right thigh, caressing and squeezing the luscious flesh. “Don’t get scared, it’s just me.”

I tried to act casual, relax a little, force my leg down but I couldn’t help the tremor that ran through my form, the elevated breathing.

“It’s just you?” I said weakly. “Mr. Jones, I’ve never done this before so ‘it’s just you’ isn’t very comforting.”

“I know,” he said, leaning close to take my lips in another deep kiss as his hands massaged and stroked my waist and ass, running smoothly over the creamy skin, the hills and valleys that came so naturally to me. I quivered underneath him, moaning a bit, and instinctively lay back, my thighs spreading of their own accord. “But you’ll get used to me because I plan on being in you every possible second, getting to know your body and having you know mine.”