Dare Me: A Dark Billionaire Romance (3 page)

She strode towards Harper, sipping the last of her champagne and swaying her hips slightly to the beat of the music. “It seems that James was less than patient in waiting for my return,” she said, smiling at Harper brightly. Harper turned his head to look at her and for a moment his eyes betrayed no recognition—and then his pupils dilated, and he smiled slightly.

“Yes, I’m afraid I’ll have to take the blame for him wandering off,” Harper said, inclining his head in tacit apology. “I made an excuse for myself. He was less than interesting without your sparkling presence.” Jasmine chuckled.

“Trust me,” she said, taking a quick breath. “I am well aware.”

“I thought you were practically his business partner,” Harper commented, raising one dark blond eyebrow in inquiry.

“I haven’t known him very long; definitely not long enough to be giving him any real advice—besides, I doubt he’d take it from me.”
If you even had a clue who I was, you’d know that James was lying through his teeth,
Jasmine thought, though she was careful to keep her expression polite and amused.

“Are you one of James’ employees? Or an entrepreneur in your own right?” Harper inquired. Jasmine thought quickly; if Harper didn’t have a clue that she was an employee in his very own company, it wouldn’t do to reveal too much. She retreated into the story that she had given James when they first met, careful not to reveal the name of the company or enough details about where she worked to give any clues to Harper. At first, he was interested, watching her face intently; Jasmine could tell that his attention was more on her figure than on her words, however.

After a few moments, his gaze started to drift, and she remembered how bored he had seemed, even talking to James before she’d left their company. “You know,” she said quickly, glancing around the room. “I always hate going to these things.” Harper raised an eyebrow.

“Then why do you come to them?” Jasmine held his gaze for a long moment, leaning in slightly.

“Sheer, blind hope that I might actually meet someone interesting,” she told him, lowering her voice confidentially. Harper chuckled. “It’s plain as day to me that you’re just as bored as I am.” His lips twitched in a grin.

“How do you recommend we fix this mutual problem?” Jasmine licked her lips, glancing around. Everything seemed so prim and proper, so completely ordered. The only interesting person in the entire room seemed to be Harper himself; and if she didn’t think quickly, she was going to lose him.

“Did you ever play ‘truth or dare’ as a kid?” Harper’s bright blue eyes flickered with confusion for just a moment—and then he smiled, slowly but broadly.

“I did,” Harper said. He glanced around the room. “Are you proposing we play a round here?” Jasmine licked her lips again, following Harper’s gaze.

“I believe I am,” Jasmine said, smiling slowly. “Are you willing?” Harper bit his bottom lip, glancing around once more.

“Which of us goes first?” Jasmine’s heart beat faster in her chest.

“My idea—you dare me first.” Harper led Jasmine towards the dance floor, his hand warm on the small of her back. He swung her into a slow, swaying dance, and Jasmine waited, wondering just what his dare would be.

“Since you’ve already picked ‘dare,’” Harper murmured, his lips only inches away from her ear. “I dare you to take your panties off right here.” Jasmine’s cheeks burned at the suggestion. As she hesitated, she heard Harper chuckle. “You are wearing panties, aren’t you?” Jasmine nodded.

The dance floor was full—so full in fact that she thought she might be able to get away with the request, provided she did it a certain way. “Accepted,” she whispered, moving slightly closer to Harper. She swayed her hips a little more aggressively even as she brought one hand back around to her side, letting it fall from Harper’s shoulder. Jasmine slithered, twisting a little against the billionaire as she furtively shifted the waistband of her panties over her hips underneath her dress. Shifting and moving, she wriggled the delicate fabric down along her thighs, to her knees. Bringing her legs together she let them fall to the floor at her feet, her cheeks burning even more intensely. “Oh! Oops,” she said, pulling back from Harper slightly. She pitched her voice a little louder—not enough to be overheard by everyone around them, but enough for casual conversation. “I seem to have dropped something.” She quickly crouched down, stepping out of the pool of fabric and picking up her panties quickly.

Slipping them into Harper’s pocket, she began to dance once more. “Well done,” Harper murmured approvingly. “You should dance with your legs a little more spread; get the full effect.” Jasmine’s blush intensified and she bit her bottom lip, feeling thrilled and deliciously exposed in equal measure.

“It’s my turn now,” she pointed out. Harper nodded.

“Dare, of course; I don’t think either of us is terribly interested in boring old truth.” Jasmine grinned.

“Hmm,” she said, glancing around the room over Harper’s shoulder. “I dare you…to cop a feel of that woman’s ass—the one to your right. See if
she
is wearing any panties under her dress.” Harper glanced in the direction of the woman in question. He raised an eyebrow, licking his lips. Jasmine felt his hand leave the small of her back, and looked down to see him lay it flat across the other woman’s buttocks, giving the slightest of squeezes before immediately retreating. She snickered softly, turning her face against Harper’s shoulder to hide her amusement.

There was no alarm—the woman, Jasmine realized, probably thought that her date had done it. “My turn?” Harper murmured in her ear. Jasmine nodded, taking a deep breath to compose herself.
This night is definitely much more interesting now,
she thought, shivering as a cold brush of air slid along her inner thighs.

Jasmine nearly forgot James completely as the game escalated, with Harper suggesting more and more dangerous dares. She found herself carefully flashing one of the other wealthy men on the dance floor, pretending that her dress had slipped; later asking one of the waiters if he had any cocaine—or knew where she could buy some—hurrying away before he could make good on the offer to sell her some. For her own turn, she dared Harper to influence one of the blatantly sycophantic men at the party; namely, to “price” one of the waitresses of the event, asking her how much she would charge for various services.

Finally, as the night began to wear down, most of the wealthy men and women—and their dates—making their exits, Jasmine finally remembered James. “It’s your turn, my dear,” Harper told her as they danced, their bodies swaying together.

“Remember my date?” Jasmine asked him, glancing around the room to make sure that James hadn’t already left. There he was, still chatting with the same leggy blonde she had seen him talking to when she left the restroom, though a businessman had joined them. Harper nodded in response.

“Don’t tell me you want me to convince him to pay attention to you? I thought we were having a good time.” Jasmine chuckled.

“No. I want you to humiliate him.” She licked her lips, thinking quickly. “I dare you to go over there and make a comment—something—to make the girl want to find greener pastures.” Harper glanced in James’ direction, and Jasmine saw the amusement in his eyes. He nodded quickly.

“You’ll have to excuse me for just a moment,” Harper said. He gave her hip a lingering caress through the fabric of her dress, and left her, walking across the dance floor. Jasmine moved off to the side, hiding amongst a few of the other women, and watched as Harper stepped up to James.

She couldn’t hear what the two men said, but it was impossible to fight down the sharp giggle of amusement that rose up in her throat as the leggy blonde’s eyes widened, and she quickly left James’ side. Jasmine bit her bottom lip to stifle her increasing amusement as the other businessman left as well. James’ face was as red as a beet as Harper walked away.

“What did you say?” Jasmine asked when Harper rejoined her. James had nearly run out of the party, forgetting her entirely; for a moment, Jasmine felt a spurt of apprehension—but reminded herself that there were plenty of other ways for her to get home.

“I suddenly remembered that he had had a case of gonorrhea the last time I saw him, and asked if he’d gotten it cured yet,” Harper replied with a little, wolfish grin. A peal of laughter burst through Jasmine’s lips before she could suppress it, and she leaned against him, shaking her head.

“That was beautiful,” she told him. Harper smiled.

“Hardly worth making a dare out of it,” he told her, leaning in a little closer to her ear. “I would have done it anyway; a guy who would flirt with someone other than his date for half the night deserves to be shamed.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Jasmine said. She looked up at him; in spite of her irritation at the fact that he hadn’t even recognized her,—she couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that he’d turned her night around. “It’s your turn, I think,” she said, raising an eyebrow. Harper glanced around the room and Jasmine followed his gaze, wondering what thoughts were going on behind his bright eyes. Most of the guests had already left; a few were lingering to get the most out of the circulating glasses of wine and champagne, or to talk business.

“For my turn…” Harper said slowly, “I dare you to come upstairs with me. I have a room here, and I’d hate to end the night so soon.” Jasmine bit her bottom lip, wondering if it was the time to reveal the truth of who she was—that she was one of his employees, not some high-powered executive. But he didn’t have a clue, and seemed like her might be  the most interesting person she had met in months. She might just as well get as much as possible out of the evening.

“Lead the way,” she said, grinning up at him.

Chapter Four

Jasmine felt herself tingling all over, cold air slipping along her inner thighs to caress her surprisingly slick folds as she followed Harper through the hallway leading to his hotel suite. She bit her bottom lip, wondering if the decision she was making was a good one.  Harper knew nothing about her other than what she had told him; he had no reason to suspect her. Jasmine waited, squirming slightly, as Harper inserted a key card into the locking mechanism of his door. She heard the heavy thunk, and Harper propelled her into the room ahead of him.

The suite was beautiful; Jasmine’s eyes widened as she took it all in. It was as far away from the usual hotel furnishings as fine wine was from two buck chuck. The floors were gorgeous hardwood, peeking out from underneath thick, ornate oriental rugs. The couch was closer to the size of a bed, with cushions that looked as though they would perfectly cocoon whoever sat on them. “This is…wow,” Jasmine said, turning to look at Harper as he closed the door behind them.

“It’s one of the rooms I like staying in best,” Harper said, gesturing for Jasmine to take a seat on the couch. “What would you like to drink?” Jasmine considered.

“Do you have the makings of a rum and coke?” she asked, sitting down hesitantly. Just as she suspected, she barely sank into the cushions—or at least, as she sank into them, they cradled her body in deep comfort.

“Of course,” Harper said, smiling slightly. He strode across the room to a low, well-stocked bar, and Jasmine watched his deft movements as he took up a crystal tumbler; he dropped a few ice cubes inside before pouring a shot from an expensive-looking bottle of rum. “Lime, too?” he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder. Jasmine felt a jolt of something work through her spine.

“Sure,” she said, smiling tensely. Harper nodded and picked up a lime from a basket on the end of the bar. He sliced a wedge from it and squeezed it into the ice and rum before cracking open a small can of Coke to fill it to the top. Harper poured himself a glass of red wine and moved away from the bar, joining Jasmine on the couch and extending the cocktail towards her.

“I believe it’s your turn, you know,” Harper said. Jasmine blushed; he was right—he had dared her to continue their night together and join him in his room, and she had accepted the dare. By the rules of the game, it was her turn.

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.

“Okay,” she said, setting her glass down. Harper’s lips twitched with something in between a smile and a laugh.

“Come with me,” Harper said, standing in a quick, fluid movement. He extended his hand and she took it, letting him help her to her feet. “This does seem like more of a dare for the bedroom, don’t you think?” he asked, walking in the direction of a small, ornately carved door tucked away between bookshelves. Harper opened the door and propelled Jasmine through it, reaching absently along the wall and flipping a switch. Lights shimmered in the four corners of the bedroom, illuminating a huge four-poster bed with thick blankets and enormous pillows, more lush rugs, two dressers and a wardrobe, along with a low wooden desk that gleamed with polish.

Harper reached out, his hands gliding over her body slowly, trailing over the curve from her breasts down to her waist, over her hips. He reached around to her back, finding the zipper on her dress, and tugged it down slowly, the sound almost overwhelming the rush of blood in Jasmine’s ears. “You have to know that I’ve been thinking about getting you out of this dress as soon as I saw you in it,” Harper murmured lowly, making Jasmine blush. His hands slid up along her spine, caressing, sending a tingle of pleasure through her body as he parted her hair, finding the bow that tied the halter-top of her dress. He tugged the ends of the bow and Jasmine shivered as the fabric whispered against her skin, sliding down. It fell to the floor with only a moment’s hesitation at her hips.

Harper stepped back slightly, and Jasmine trembled as he took in the sight of her. He licked his lips, his hands opening and closing as he seemed to inspect her slowly. He met her gaze once more, his eyes darkening as he reached around to her back another time. Jasmine gasped softly as Harper’s fingers unhooked the clasp of her bra. “This is very lovely too,” Harper murmured. “But I can do so much better with it off of you, Jasmine.” He guided the fine, lacy fabric away from her skin, drawing the straps down her arms with a caressing touch.

“Remember,” Jasmine said, her voice cracking slightly. “Just your hands.” Harper met her gaze and nodded.

“I remember well,” he said, smiling. “But there’s a few things first.” Jasmine frowned.

“What would those be?” Harper’s gaze trailed over her body once more, caressing her without touch.

“You must consent to have your own hands tied,” he said. Jasmine felt her heart flutter, beating faster in her chest.

“Tied?” She had never tried it with anyone else, even though a couple of her ex-boyfriends had been interested in the idea. It had never seemed to be worth the loss of control.

“Yes,” Harper replied. “Tied up, at your wrists.” Jasmine bit her bottom lip; she had to admit she was intrigued.

“Okay,” she said finally.

“Another thing,” Harper told her, his face taking on serious lines. “I will give you a safe word; if you use the word at any point, I will stop immediately. If you are uncomfortable, even for just a moment, with what I’m doing to you—with being tied up, or anything else—you say the safe word, and everything stops, I untie you and do whatever you need to feel comfortable and safe once more.” Jasmine looked at him, her heart beating now not just with arousal but also more than a little fear.

“Do you think I’ll need it?” she asked him, swallowing against a tight feeling in her throat.

“I hope not,” Harper said, giving her a little smile. “But if you do, it’ll be available to you. The safe word is ‘banana.’ That way, you can’t possibly mean anything else, and you can remember it. Say it for me now?” Jasmine took a deep breath.

“Banana?” she felt silly just saying it, but he was right; she couldn’t imagine a context where she could say it by mistake, and certainly it would be easy to remember.

“Bring your hands together at the wrist,” Harper told her. Jasmine raised an eyebrow, but did as he requested, placing one wrist over the other, extending her hands in front of her. Harper turned away, opening one of the drawers in one of the dressers. Jasmine’s eyes widened as he withdrew what seemed to be a large coil of silken rope, matte black with tassels on the ends. He un-looped the rope, stepping close to her once more.

Jasmine’s skin tingled with apprehension and anticipation as Harper wrapped and wound the rope around her wrists. The soft material tightened as he made one knot after another, inextricably binding her wrists together, trapping her hands in place. As he tightened the last knot, Harper pushed her arms down lightly, letting them fall against her body, her hands almost covering her already wet pussy. “This is very nice,” Harper said, smiling slowly. “Very nice indeed. I can definitely work with this. You remember the safe word, Jasmine?” She nodded, wondering why she hadn’t said it already; wondering why she was going along with this.

Harper’s hands began to touch and caress her everywhere seemingly all at once, cupping her breasts, trailing down to her hips, making Jasmine twist and writhe in instinctive reaction, hungry for more already. He teased her, rolling her nipples between his fingertips until they hardened into firm little nubs, the attention sending jolts of pleasure through her body seemingly straight to her moist pussy. She trembled, tugging instinctively at the silk rope that bound her wrists together, her breath catching in her throat as she moaned. Harper’s hands slid down along the curves of her body, slipping between her legs. His fingertips barely brushed against her slick folds, his touch feather-light, stroking up and down. Jasmine whimpered, pushing her hips down to get better contact, but Harper deftly avoided her, his fingertips maintaining the barest of touches against her labia. “So impatient,” Harper murmured, smiling slightly.

“I dared you to get me off,” Jasmine protested, twisting and shifting her hips as Harper’s fingers continued to slip and slide along her drenched folds. Harper chuckled lowly, pressing his fingertips more firmly against her, between her folds, barely avoiding her clit.

“And I told you that I would do it—my way,” he countered, rubbing slowly along her inner labia. “You agreed to it, Jasmine.” Jasmine’s moan shifted into a whimper, her breath catching as she writhed and arched, struggling to get better contact in spite of Harper’s teasing. She pulled and tugged at the binds around her wrists, torn between wishing that she could bring herself to use the safe word—and regain the use of her hands—and not wanting the teasing to ever stop.

Harper pushed her back slowly, steadying her until they came to the room’s enormous bed. He lowered her gently onto her back, spreading her legs with a lingering caress. “It would be delightful to be able to use my mouth,” Harper said, leaning in close, and Jasmine arched up, attempting to pull him down, to bring him close enough to kiss her. “Ah-ah-ah,” Harper said, evading her. “Your dare specified hands only, Jasmine.” She shivered, her fingernails digging into her palms as she clenched her teeth. Harper trailed his fingertips up and down along her labia, his feather-light caress almost tickling.

He withdrew his fingers and Jasmine groaned, pushing her hips down to try and recapture the sensation of his touch. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Harper murmured, bringing his hands up to her breasts once more. He twisted her nipples almost cruelly, making Jasmine cry out, her back arching off of the bed. “Patience, Jasmine,” he told her firmly. His fingertips shifted on her tender breasts, caressing and rubbing, soothing her until she trembled with need. Jasmine moaned out, biting her bottom lip as Harper teased her, alternating between caressing, soft touches and sharp pinches and twists to her sensitive nipples.

When Jasmine was certain that she couldn’t possibly take the teasing for one moment longer, able to feel the soaking wet sensation between her labia, Harper trailed his hands down over her body once more, giving her hip a playful pinch before he barely grazed her labia with his fingertips. “Please—please…” Jasmine whimpered in desperation, twisting and writhing on the bed. Harper chuckled lowly, pressing his fingers between her labia, rubbing up and down along the length of her folds. He spread her slowly, and Jasmine cried out with pleasure as he began to stroke and rub her clit, sending hot and cold jolts of sensation crackling through every nerve, making it nearly impossible for her to hold back; but she wanted to savor the feeling, wanted to last as long as possible.

Harper teased her relentlessly, stroking her pleasure center until she was at the very edge of orgasm before dipping down to her inner labia, until Jasmine was panting and gasping, the silken ropes biting into her wrists from her struggles. He plunged two fingers inside of her, rubbing along her inner walls as they flexed with reaction. “Good girl,” Harper murmured, his thumb moving to swirl around her clit in tight circles that made it impossible to think. His fingers moved deeper and deeper inside of her, pressing against her inner walls, as his thumb continued to work her clit, and Jasmine’s hips moved as if with a mind of their own, twisting and bucking on the bed, her body straining and struggling to get what was now more than a desire—it was an absolute need.