Double Dare (18 page)

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the phone.

“Okay. Still a little confused. Have you been drinking?”

“Do you blame me? They are purposely doing shit to get Peter and me back together.”

“And you don't want that.”

“Of course not! I'm—”
Happy being with you two
. “I don't want him.”

She didn't even want to think about him, let alone go out on a pimped-out, bought-with-cold-cash date with him. Charity or not.

“What do you want?”

“Not to be auctioned off. Not to go to this charity event. I hate black-tie affairs.”

She heard him sigh. “I'm not real fond of them myself.”

She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself and get to the reason why she had called him in the first place. “I need Ty's and your help.”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“I need a date for this
thing
.”

“
Thing
. A date.” Another pause, as if he was turning the idea over in his head. “Okay, but who do you want to go?”

Who?

“Quinn, which one of us do you want to go?”

Which one? As if she'd be able to choose. She didn't even think of them individually. They were a bonded pair. A couple. “Both. I want you both to come with me. I want you both to be my dates.”

Another pause. A long one this time. “I don't know, Quinn. That might not be such a good idea.”

“I don't care.”

“You might think differently in the morning, after whatever you're drinking is out of your system.”

“Wine.”

“What?”

Quinn picked up the bottle and turned it to read the label. “Wine. A really nice, tasty merlot.”

She splashed a little more in her glass and pushed the bottle aside. She got up from the kitchen stool and paced around the room, the cordless phone to her ear.

Would he—they—turn her down? Would he refuse to go or let Ty go because of a possible controversy? Because it might cause problems with her parents? No, not might, she had a good idea it definitely would. But she didn't want them to feel as if they were being used. Pawns in her revenge against her parents. Against Peter.

But if anyone was going to be at her side that night, she wanted Logan and Ty. Not one or the other. Both.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I've never been so sure in my life.”

“Things might never be the same again.”

“I'm hoping so.”

“I want you to think hard about this.”

“I don't have time to think about this. The Monte Carlo Night is Saturday.”

“Wait. This Saturday?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Shit. I'd have to get a tux.”

“I don't care what you wear. Come naked, for all I care.” Naked, in a tux—he would look hot either way. The coral snake tattoo wrapping around his hip was gorgeous. Everyone should see that. All right, maybe her mother wouldn't be so impressed.

Logan laughed. “Yeah, you think you have problems now? Think about the problems you'd have if Ty and I showed up naked.”

Quinn wiped the moisture from her cheek and smiled. “Nobody would be able to stop looking at Ty's package.”

“Hey! I'm no slouch.”

“No, you're not. I wish you were here right now, showing me what you've got.”

“I wish I were too.”

“I miss you guys,” she said.

“We miss you too, baby, but you only left here a few hours ago.”

“It seems like forever.”

“Maybe it's because it's close to midnight.”

“Crap. Is it?” The clock hanging above the sink said he was right. She groaned. “I have to go to the office in the morning.”

“Then you'd better go to bed.”

Yes, bed would be good. But not alone. Not by choice. “With you.”

“Okay.” His voice changed, getting a little gruffer, a little more demanding. “Go to your room.”

“Why?”

“Don't question me. Just do it. Go to your room.”

She had already kicked off her shoes earlier when she had gone through the front door, so she now padded up the carpeted steps to the second floor in just her stocking feet.

When she got to the top of the stairway, she balanced her half-full wineglass in one hand and held the cordless phone to her ear in the other.

“You still there?” she asked him breathlessly.

“Are you in your bedroom?”

A few more steps and she was. She moved through the room and set her glass down on the nightstand.

“Yes.”

“What are you wearing?”

A streak of hot lightning shot through her, and her toes curled against the Berber carpeting.

“I have on a V-neck dress and stockings.”

“Okay, we'll start with those.”

Quinn's heart beat rapidly. She wished the boys were there, where she could touch them. Feel them.

“Does your dress have a zipper?” Logan's voice made her nipples pebble hard, and they began to ache. She needed his touch. Badly.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Unzip it. Slowly.”

She grabbed the zipper at the back of her neck.

“Make sure you do it slowly, and I want to hear the zipper opening.”

Quinn transferred the phone into her other hand, while she did as she was told. She reached behind her to work the zipper down, making sure the receiver was close enough to pick up the grating of the metallic teeth as they parted. The zipper stopped at the small of her back.

She put the phone back up to her ear.

“What color is your dress?”

“Red.”

“Push that red dress down over your shoulders. Now over your arms. Let it drop to the floor.”

She did just that, feeling the soft fabric caressing her skin as it slipped off her shoulders. The dress gathered for a moment at her elbows before landing at her feet with a soft swish.

“Now. Describe what you are wearing.”

“I—” Her voice caught. She had to look down at herself, because her brain was spinning, and at the moment, she could have been naked and not remembered. “A black bra, lacy on the top, black satin bikini panties, and nude stockings that come up almost to the tops of my thighs.”

“Get on the bed.”

“Logan—”

“Do it.”

Those two words, even through the phone, were powerful. That simple command made her body quiver. Made her ache. Made her wet with wanting.

She loved it when he took command.

“Are you on the bed yet?”

She scrambled onto the bed, sitting back against the decorative pillows she had piled near the carved oak headboard.

His voice now sounded different.

“Did you put me on speakerphone?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “Ty is here. I want you to put us on speakerphone too.”

She heard Ty's voice, though at a distance. “Did you do what he told you yet? Are you on the bed?”

“I'm on the bed.” She hit the Speaker button on the receiver and laid it next to her hip.

Logan's commanding voice came clearly through the cordless phone. “Unhook your bra. I want to feel your breasts.”

Quinn reached behind her and unfastened the little eye hooks. The bra fell forward, and she pulled her arms out of the straps and threw the bra to the end of the bed. Her nipples were at hard points, begging for a greedy mouth. Or two.

“Quinn, I want to feel your breasts,” Logan repeated.

She had never had phone sex before and wasn't sure what he wanted her to do. She ran her hands down around the heavy curves of her breasts and lifted them up, squeezing them together.

“Quinn?”

“Yesss?” The word hissed out of her.

“Are your nipples hard?”

“Very.”

“Do they need pinched?”

“Yes.” Oh yes. By very unforgiving male fingers.

“Do it.”

She did as she was told. Gladly.

Her eyes drifted shut as she pushed her breasts together again and brushed the pads of her thumbs over the tips of her nipples. She imagined them to be Logan's thumbs. Ty's thumbs.

She arched her back and moaned. She plucked at them with her forefingers and thumbs and then clamped down, twisting them until she cried out.

Quinn kept her eyes closed as she imagined the boys with her. Doing to her what she was doing to herself. “They're very hard. I love it when you twist them like that. I love it when you pluck at them and suck them deep into your mouth. Twist them and nip them until the pain is so incredibly pleasurable. I need you to squeeze them with your big, rough hands until I want you to fuck me.”

She wasn't paying attention to what she was saying; she was babbling. Her mouth was open, and words were coming out.

“Ah.
Jesus
,” came from the speaker on her phone.

She released one breast to run her right palm down her stomach and into her panties.

“I'm so wet for you now. I'm dripping. I need you guys to be deep inside me, plunging in and out until I cry out. Until you cry out.”

She pressed a finger between her slick folds and teased her swollen clit. “My clit is so hard; it feels so good when you circle it with your fingers and your tongue.”

Her finger found a rhythm of pressing the hard button and circling. She added a second finger and circled harder. Her left hand continued to play with her breasts, plucking and pulling one nipple and then the other.

She pushed her hips into her hand, her fingers abandoning her clit and shoving deep within her pussy. “
Oh
… Ah, fuck.” She pushed her palm against her mound, keeping pressure against her clit with the heel of her hand as she moved her fingers in the opposite rhythm of her hips. Her head fell back against the headboard, and she caught her bottom lip in her teeth.

“Omigod.
Shit
.”

“Feels good, doesn't it, baby?”

“So good.”

“Are we deep enough inside you? Are we hard enough for you?”

“Always hard enough… Always… No. I want you deeper.” She rolled her head back and forth against the headboard as she tried to sink her fingers deeper. It wasn't deep enough. Not nearly deep enough.

“Are you going to pull us in deeper?”

Logan's voice rushed over her like a wave. She could feel his breath against her neck, his teeth grazing against her earlobe.

She opened her eyes suddenly and jerked her hands away from herself. She rolled over quickly to the nightstand, knocking the cordless handset over. She yanked the nightstand drawer open and blindly grabbed for her girl's best friend. A strange mix between a giggle and a sigh bubbled out of her when her fingers bumped against what she was looking for. Her seven-inch, multispeed, flexible, jelly vibrator.

Logan's voice was muffled against the bedspread. “Quinn? Quinn? Are you all right?”

She held the pink battery-operated piece of heaven to her chest and shuffled back to the middle of the bed. She uprighted the phone.

“Now I am.”

“What happened?”

Quinn twisted the dial on the bottom of the vibrator to full speed, and it came to life, humming against her skin.

“Oh,” was all Logan said, and she swore she heard Ty in the background laughing.

He could laugh all he wanted. She was past the point of caring.

She was at the point of desperation. Of need.