Dare Me: A Dark Billionaire Romance
Read Dare Me: A Dark Billionaire Romance Online
Authors: Evelyn Troy
Dare Me
By Evelyn Troy
A taste of things to come:
Jasmine took a long sip of her drink, trying to regain her composure. She could already feel the heat building up between her hips; even if she had resented him at the beginning of the evening, she couldn’t deny the attraction she had felt the moment they had started playing the game together. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to make a dare out of asking him to sleep with her. “You’re allowed to forfeit your turn if you want,” Harper said, giving her a little, confident smile. “I promise I won’t tell anyone what a chicken you are.” That stung Jasmine’s pride awake, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to think of something that would be close to what she really wanted, without being so desperate as to use the game as a gambit to have sex with him. “All right,” she said quickly. “I dare you to get me off… using nothing but your hands.” Harper held her gaze for a long moment, and Jasmine wondered if she had overstepped; if he would eject her from the room, make fun of her as desperate.
He’s probably got dozens—hundreds—of girls throwing themselves at him,
she thought bitterly.
What was I thinking?
“I accept the challenge,” Harper said, smiling slowly. “But if I’m going to do it, we do it my way; that’s only fair, right?” Jasmine nipped at the inside of her bottom lip, her heart beating faster. She had been with what she considered plenty of men—though she didn’t exactly keep count, and she had only had a few one-night stands. None of them had been able to get her off that way; but from the confidence in Harper’s eyes, she thought that he probably had more experience than her—and he, at least, seemed to think he would be more than capable of it.
Copyright © 2015 by Evelyn Troy
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
First Edition
Contents:
Chapter One
Jasmine reached out blindly and turned off the water in her shower by touch, twisting the knob until the hot rain flowing down onto her head ceased. She wiped at her eyes and shook her wet hair against her shoulders, tilting her head back and taking a deep breath. She smiled to herself, opening her eyes and stepping out of the shower. In less than an hour and a half—assuming she was counting properly—she would be on her way to an exclusive event, on the arm of a wealthy date. It would be such a good break from her day-to-day life; grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her body, Jasmine grinned as she thought about the dress she had purchased for the event.
She dried herself off quickly, glancing in the mirror for just a moment before she stepped through the bathroom and into her bedroom. Jasmine had been looking forward to the date all week; in fact, she had been more and more eager for the day to arrive. It seemed as though the bright patch that had been meeting with a good-looking guy on the flight home from her business trip was immediately destroyed the moment she walked into work on Monday morning—and the only thing that Jasmine could think of to keep herself from walking out of the office without a single backward glance was the knowledge that she would be going out on the weekend.
The night before, when she’d gotten off of work, Jasmine had made her way to the posh shopping center in the wealthier part of the city, intent on finding something to wear to the event. It hadn’t occurred to her when she had accepted the date from James, but nothing she owned was suitable for the kind of atmosphere he’d promised. Besides which, she had told herself that going shopping for a dress would prolong the experience, give her more to savor.
Almost timidly, she had stepped through the doors of one tiny, boutique-style department store after another: Saks, Neiman Marcus, and finally Nordstrom. She had decided that she simply couldn’t afford anything in the first two stores, while the designer dresses draped on mannequins and hanging from sturdy hangers were more beautiful than anything she had ever owned. Nordstrom, while expensive, was at least within the kind of budget that Jasmine had to hold herself to. Even for an outing amongst the wealthy, she couldn’t justify spending three thousand dollars for a dress she’d only ever wear a few times. Instead, she had searched and combed through the formalwear at Nordstrom until a clerk found her and ushered her into the dressing rooms, smilingly offering to bring her water and asking about where she was going and what sort of event it would be.
If I ever have to spend a few hundred on a dress again in my life, I know exactly where to go,
Jasmine thought as she looked lovingly at the plastic garment bag shrouding the dress she had finally bought. The dress itself—heavy black, floral lace over a sheath that perfectly matched her skin tone, cut a few inches above the knee and with a deliciously plunging halter neck—would have been reason enough to go back whenever there was an opportunity; the service she’d received had solidified the inclination. She had left the store five hundred dollars poorer, but with a dress, heels, and purse that would make any of her coworkers die with envy at the sight of her wearing them.
But first, before she could put on the outfit, Jasmine had to get herself ready. She toweled herself off thoroughly and draped her bathrobe around herself before going back into the bathroom. Jasmine had never really considered herself a raving beauty; her dark brown hair was almost stick-straight naturally, and her big green eyes had been compared by more than one of her boyfriends to those of a fish—but she had learned how to make the best of her striking looks. Jasmine blow-dried her hair, tousling it generously with her fingers then lifting sections with a brush to get at the roots of her hair.
As soon as her hair was the way she wanted it, Jasmine turned her attention to her makeup. A little bit of neutral eye shadow, liner, and mascara, light foundation and blush, and some deep red lipstick, and Jasmine admired herself in the mirror; she definitely looked as though she should be at an event like the one James had invited her to. Jasmine smiled to herself, stepping out of the bathroom. She strode towards her dresser and opened the top drawer, rummaging around for a few moments as she considered what to wear underneath her outfit. She pulled out a bra and a pair of panties: thin, fine, almost translucent lace the color of sand, just perfect for the dress. It wouldn’t look like she was wearing anything at all underneath the gown—which was exactly what Jasmine wanted.
As she dressed, Jasmine’s thoughts turned to the chance encounter that had led to her date. Giggling, she shook her head at the absurdity of it. She had been flying back from a trip to meet with a prospective business partner for the company she worked for. For once, the department had sprung for a business class ticket instead of just sending her economy, though Jasmine thought that had more to do with the upcoming budgetary meeting—and the department’s desire to have more money to spend next year—than it did with any thought to her comfort or status. As she was settling into her seat, James had come hurrying down the aisle, his laptop case gripped tightly.
He had been wearing a tailored suit, with what Jasmine was sure was a pure silk tie, and when he sat down in the seat next to hers, he’d glanced at her with the kind of interest that Jasmine knew only too well. “I just had to stop in duty-free,” he told her wryly, grinning. “And then of course, I got stopped, helped some cute little old lady with her busted-up bag… and nearly missed my own flight home.”
“At least you got in your good deed for the day,” Jasmine had countered. James—whose name she hadn’t known yet—had grinned again at that, flashing perfectly straight, pearly-white teeth.
“I did at that,” he agreed. “And for my reward, I get to spend the next few hours seated next to the prettiest woman on the plane.” They got to talking; Jasmine explained that she was heading home from an important meeting, admitting that she was not exactly an extremely important person—an assistant manager, little more than an errand girl for the department manager—but James insisted that what she lacked in status, she more than made up for in intelligence and beauty. “You know, you could always go somewhere else—get a leg up,” he had suggested. Jasmine had shrugged off the suggestion.
“If I leave on terms like that, they’d probably just find a way to blacklist me,” Jasmine had said, sighing. She wasn’t sure if this was true; she didn’t think that her department head really had as much clout as he claimed, but she wasn’t about to risk finding out.
James was somewhat cagier, giving her few details about his work, but after a couple of complimentary glasses of champagne, Jasmine found herself listening intently to his description of an upcoming event. “I don’t have a date for it,” he told her finally. “I haven’t had the time to find one. When I saw you, I thought—I hoped—you’d be interested in going. If you don’t have plans for next weekend, that is.” Jasmine had shrugged. She didn’t have any plans; her work was too intensive for her to manage anything like a real social life.
James’ invitation intrigued her, and Jasmine had been only too willing to accept. She had given him her phone number, and he had confirmed their date early in the week, telling her that he had all of the details; all she needed to do was be ready to leave at 8pm on the night of the event.
Jasmine touched up her makeup, standing before her mirror and turning her head one way and then the other. She inserted one earring and then the other—small, elegant pearl drops—and draped a pearl pendant around her neck, letting the larger drop fall just above her cleavage.
Perfect,
she thought, grinning at herself impudently in the mirror. James had thought she’d looked gorgeous before—he would be totally blown away at how she looked fully cleaned up, in an expensive dress and shoes. She took a deep breath, turning her head back and forth slowly, turning her body in a circle in front of the mirror. Her curvy shape was emphasized by the cut of the dress, the hem showing the best part of her legs. She went into the living room, and smoothed the skirt of the dress over her thighs, waiting as patiently as her excitement would allow.
She checked the time; in her urgency to get herself absolutely perfectly ready, she’d finished with fifteen minutes to spare. Jasmine told herself that it was perfectly reasonable for James to arrive when he had said he would and not before. Her thoughts turned to the work week that had ended only hours before; she had told James during the flight that she was overworked and underappreciated by her department—but it was as if telling someone else about it had been an incitement to even worse. She had arrived early on Monday, prepared to debrief her boss and the other assistants about her meeting with the prospective new business partners. She discovered to her chagrin that they could spare no more than a few minutes discussing it—barely even congratulating her on sealing the deal before Alex moved onto the topic of the next major partnership they were looking to secure.
Jasmine had hoped that the trip was a portent—finally—of new responsibilities, but at the meeting on Monday, she had learned she was mistaken. The new proposal was going to another assistant manager, Gerald; but just because he was taking point on the potential new partner, didn’t mean that Jasmine was freed of the responsibility of preparing the proposal. All of the research and composition had been her responsibility, on top of her normal work, which she was already behind on—the trip out of town had given her few opportunities to keep up with the normal day-to-day of her job. All week, Jasmine had eaten lunch at her desk, unable to get away because of the volume of her assignments. She had stayed late and come in early, but nobody had remarked on it at all. Gerald just took it for granted that Jasmine was doing all of his work, while Jasmine’s boss Frank simply accepted that she had been successful in signing on the new partners without even acknowledging the work this had required.
For four years, Jasmine had worked in the new business department of Genco Enterprises, working her way up from a temp position to her current post as one of the assistant managers in the department. At first, she had hoped that the position would be her ticket to advancement. She had worked hard, making Frank look good, taking on whatever additional responsibilities her bosses put on the table. But instead of being offered a promotion or even a substantial pay raise, she had been kept to a three percent “courtesy” increase every year—the same increase that someone who just came in and left on time and managed not to screw up could expect—and the same job title she had had when she first started.
Within the last year, Jasmine had come to the reluctant and frustrating conclusion that she had progressed as far within the company as she was ever going to. James’ comment to her—his suggestion that she could jump ship and find another company to work for—was one she had considered more than once; but in spite of the fact that she did want more respect, more money, and at least the possibility of moving up the corporate ladder, Jasmine had not yet been able to bring herself to do more than put her resume out on the job boards; she certainly didn’t have enough confidence in herself to look more actively. She knew that there would come a time when she would have to make the decision to take more proactive steps, but she was afraid of the risks that such a step would entail.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a firm, fast knock on the door. Jasmine stood quickly. “Coming!” she called out, smoothing the dress over her legs and turning her head to make sure she hadn’t wrinkled the back of the dress as she sat. She took a deep breath and composed herself, walking to the door in a few quick steps. Jasmine grinned coyly at the thought of how James would react to the sight of her and, without even checking who was knocking, she opened the door in one fast movement.
She started, confused, when the opened door revealed not James but instead an older man, dressed in a crisp, pressed, black suit. “Ms. Phillips?” he asked. Staring at him, confused, Jasmine’s gaze caught the brass nametag on his lapel, proclaiming that the man standing before her was named John.
“Ah—yes?” she said, smiling politely.
“I’m John, it’s a pleasure to meet you. James is waiting for you downstairs in the car—I’m the chauffeur.” Jasmine smiled more genuinely now, a soft chuckle leaving her lips. She grabbed her purse and looked inside to make sure she had everything she needed.
“I’ll let you lead the way,” she said, taking out her keys. She stepped through her door, closing and locking it behind her, and gestured for John to lead the way down the stairs to the front of the building, where she assumed the car he drove was parked.
A chauffeur, no less,
she thought, shaking her head slightly. Of course James had hired a chauffeur; it only made sense. She followed John downstairs, imagining the looks on the faces of her colleagues and bosses if they ever found out where she had gone and with whom. It was a nice little break—and a private source of amusement that while they didn’t appreciate her, someone else certainly did.