Triple Dare (11 page)

“Hell yes.” He laughed, making his pecs dance, and the somersaults in her stomach turned to cartwheels. “Now take it off.”

She dragged her gaze from his chiseled chest and met his white-hot stare. “That’s romantic.”

“You want romance? How’s this for romance?” His hands circled her waist and he pulled her on top of him. “You drive me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about you. I look at you, and I don’t see Ivy, my best friend’s sister. Or Ivy, the girl who crank-called the principal on a dare and asked him to confirm his order of ten strippers for a pep rally. I see Ivy, the woman who built a successful career on her own terms. Who loves her family so much she put that career on hold when they needed her. Who makes the sexiest little whimpers and moans when she comes.”

Her insides dissolved into a puddle of feels. How had he known exactly what she needed to hear? That their past was in the past. That he wanted the woman she was now.

“Well, since you put it that way...” She lifted her shirt over her stomach, her breasts and finally her head. It joined his on the floor, followed by her bra. Desire undulated around them in waves, like a force field shielding them from the outside world.

“Damn.” Cade’s heated gaze moved from her face to her chest.

Ivy balled her hands into fists at her sides, fighting the urge to cover herself. “What are you waiting for?”

“I’m deciding where to start. Here?” His fingers caressed the soft undersides of her breasts. “Or maybe here.”

He brushed her nipples with his thumbs, forcing a moan from her throat.

“Here, there, anywhere.” She arched into him. “As long as you’re touching me, I don’t care.”

He chuckled. “You sound like Dr. Seuss.”

“I don’t think he wrote anything that even remotely covers this situation.”

“Probably not.” Cade lowered his head and planted a kiss on the side of her throat. The wet pressure of his mouth worked a shudder through her from the inside out. “We’ll have to write our own playbook. You up for it?”

“If you are.”

He rocked against her. His erection was huge and hard and hot. “What do you think?”

She dropped her head forward, her hair falling across her face. “I think I’m going to like having a roommate.”

11

C
ADE
LOOKED
AT
Ivy astride him, her auburn hair back to its natural, untamed state, her hazel eyes glazed over with desire. His dick was so hard it hurt. An aching need pulsed through his veins and the air squeezed out of his lungs. Had he ever wanted anyone this badly?

He slid a finger under the waistband of her yoga pants. He’d never thought these things were sexy before, but the way they hugged Ivy’s hips and ass made him think dirty thoughts about how he’d like to grab onto those hips while she rode him into next week. Still, the pants had to go. He tugged at them.

“I’ll do it.” She climbed off him. “You’re injured.”

“Not that injured.”

“I’m running this show, remember?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pushed a hand through his hair and leaned back against the arm of the sofa. “You’re the boss.”

She slid her pants down to her ankles and kicked them aside. “Now you.”

He lifted his hips and she inched his shorts down his thighs. The little touches as she worked her way over his knees to the top of his cast left a trail of sparks.

“Now comes the tricky part.” She frowned, creating adorably concerned wrinkles on her forehead. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“The only way you’re going to hurt me is if you stop.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She eased the shorts over his cast and off his feet. He should have felt exposed and vulnerable, lying naked and incapacitated, his cock jutting up like a flagpole. Instead, all he felt was anxious and needy and more turned on than an air conditioner in July.

“See? It wasn’t that hard.”

She eyed his erection. “I beg to differ.”

The pit of his belly tightened. “Why don’t you climb aboard and prove your point.”

With a husky laugh, she straddled him again, taking his cock in her hand. She licked her lips as she moved her fingers up and down his shaft. “It’s pretty hard, all right.”

“Think you can do something about that?”

“I can try.”

Gingerly, she slid down his body and bent her head to touch her tongue to his crown. She lapped up a bead of moisture, and he groaned long and loud.

“That’s a damn good start.” He gripped her shoulder.

She wrapped her lips around him and took him inch by tortuous inch to the back of her throat, sucking hard and fast. Fuck, she was good at this. Just the way he liked it, nice and wet with the right amount of pressure and plenty of tongue action, her hand and mouth working together in perfect rhythm. Every so often she pulled back and circled the head, stopping each time she reached the sensitive tissue on the underside of his penis and flicking it with the tip of her tongue.

He closed his eyes, shutting out the image of her glossy, bee-stung lips on his cock, and fought the urge to thrust up into that perfect mouth. If he did, the extreme pleasure, the intense personal connection between them, would be over all too soon. And no matter what the doctor said about him needing rest, he felt like he could go for hours.

Ivy released him with a
pop
and sighed. “You taste good. But I need you inside me.”

He opened his eyes to find her crawling back up his body, her hair shadowing her face. “No complaint here.”

She lifted herself over him.

“Wait.” He groaned out the word, not wanting to stop. “Condom.”

The momentarily confused look on her face was replaced with relief. “I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.”

“So am I.” He cupped the sweet globes of her ass and squeezed. “Thank God.”

Slowly, achingly, she lowered herself onto his cock, and he slid into her hot, tight core. The desire to drive into her was too strong now, and he gave in to it, arching his hips upward. Big mistake. He turned his head, trying to cover a wince at the dull ache in his leg.

“Let me.” Ivy pushed him back down and started to move over him, lifting, falling, grinding. Her head fell back and with it her hair, letting him see her expression: eyes glassy, lips parted, cheeks flush with passion.

“God, Ivy, that’s... It feels...”
What?
Amazing? Erotic? Sexy as fuck?
Nothing he could come up with seemed enough to describe the raw, unfamiliar sensation traveling through his body like a bolt of lightning.

“I know.” She planted her hands on his chest and continued to ride him, understanding even without words. “Me, too.”

“Don’t stop,” he panted. “I’ll die if you stop.”

“Not part of my plan.”

She rose and he pushed into her, hard and deep, stretching her, filling her. He grabbed her hips and pumped into her, the discomfort in his leg a distant second to his need to please her, possess her. It only took a few thrusts before the first vibrations of her orgasm made her shudder and contract, squeezing him. He clenched his teeth, fighting hard not to come until her climax was spent.

When the last spasm had racked her body, he turned her until they were on their sides, making sure his bad leg was on top, propped up by the pillow. Still deep inside her, he looked into her eyes, withdrew, then plunged even deeper. “Put your leg around my waist.”

“But your cast...”

“Will be fine.” He rested his forehead on hers. “Put your leg around me. I need to feel you.”

He plunged again and she sucked in a breath. “You are feeling me.”

“Closer,” he moaned into her mouth.

“Yes.” She looped her leg over his waist, pulling him in.

He drove into her faster, harder, deeper. Again and again, until he felt the squeeze of her second orgasm, even tighter than before.

She cried out his name and gripped him hard as she came apart around him. His fingers dug into her hips and he continued his assault, seeking the same release.

She gazed up at him with those lust-glazed, postorgasm eyes, and he was gone. A fierce, all-consuming pleasure ripped through him, starting somewhere deep within and radiating down his erection until his own orgasm ripped through him like a flash fire.

“Is it me?” he asked when he finally caught his breath. “Or does it get better every time?”

“It’s not you.” She started to slide her leg off him.

“Don’t move.” He tightened his arms around her. “Not yet.”

She relaxed in his embrace and he crushed her to his sweat-slicked chest. Whatever had just happened felt different, bigger, more important somehow than whatever it was they’d been doing before. And he wasn’t ready to let it—or her—go anytime soon.

* * *

“W
HICH
ONE
DO
you want?” Sykes held up two video games. “
Call of Duty: Black Ops 3
or
Super Mario Kart
?”

“Super Mario.”
Hansen came in from the kitchen juggling four bottles of Heineken.

“I wasn’t asking you.” Sykes set down the games on the coffee table, snagged one of the bottles from Hansen and popped off the top. “The gimp gets to choose.”

“I thought it was the hero gets to choose,” Cade countered.

“Have it your way, if it makes you feel better,” Sykes joked. “So what’ll it be?”

“Black Ops.”
Cade took the bottle Hansen handed him, opened it and chugged about half of it. “I need to shoot something.”

He put down the bottle on the coffee table with a
thunk
in between the video games and his propped-up leg. Two weeks as an invalid had him on edge. Couch-potato living was so not for him.

Trey poked his head out from behind the television. “You sure Ivy won’t mind me hooking up your Xbox? I mean, it’s not like you’re really living together, right?”

“Maybe that’s why he needs to shoot something.” Hansen sat next to Cade, took a sip from his own beer and put the remaining bottle down on the coffee table. “Sexual frustration.”

“I thought you two were dating.”

“Did you do something to piss her off?”

“Is she holding out on you?”

“Got a case of the blue balls, buddy?”

“You guys are idiots.” Cade swigged his beer.

“Idiots who aren’t going to stop asking until you tell us what’s going on with you and Ivy.” Sykes leaned against the wall next to the television, watching Trey, who’d gone back to work on the Xbox.

“Yeah,” Hansen agreed. “We gotta know what to tell Sasha when she comes sniffing around the station again.”

Cade tensed. “Sasha’s been to the station?”

Damn.
He thought she’d finally given up on him after the whole display at the ball game.

“Once or twice,” Sykes hedged.

“More like five times.” Hansen was all too eager to correct his partner. “She’s driving Cappy nuts.”

“Don’t worry.” Sykes gave Cade a reassuring smile from across the room. “You’re secret’s safe with us. We didn’t tell her where you’re staying.”

“Even when she tried to bribe us with baked goods.” Hansen closed his eyes and inhaled, as if whatever the hell she’d made was right there in front of him, then released his breath on a long, slow sigh. “For a woman the size of a stick figure, she sure can cook.”

“But you know how this town is,” Trey chimed in from his hiding place, still trying to sort out the tangle of wires coming from the game console. “She’s bound to find out eventually.”

“I haven’t been broadcasting my whereabouts, but it’s not exactly a secret.” Cade frowned. “Everyone at the hospital knows. You guys. Ivy’s family.”

She’d managed to convince them that this living arrangement was purely platonic. Whether he could do the same with his buddies remained to be seen.

“True, but the last thing you need is your psycho ex finding you here with Ivy,” Hansen said. “Especially if you two have been playing house.”

“Getting cozy.” Sykes waggled his brows.

“Bumping uglies.” Hansen nudged Cade with his elbow.

Sykes narrowed his eyes. “Which you oh-so-skillfully avoided confirming.”

“All set.” Trey crawled out from behind the TV. “We should be good to go.”

Hansen shook his head. “Not until lover boy here tells us whether he and Ivy are doing the horizontal mambo.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, grow up.” Cade finished off his beer and slammed it down on the coffee table with more force than necessary. It was a miracle the bottle didn’t break. “Ivy’s a friend. She’s taking care of me.”

And helping him study for the lieutenant exam, like she’d promised. Not that he was admitting that to these goofballs.

“In more ways than one, I’ll bet.” Sykes flopped into an easy chair and absently peeled the label off his Heineken.

“Friends with benefits,” Hansen agreed.

“Leave him alone.” Trey muscled Hansen off the couch, handed Cade one of the game controllers and sat next to him with the other. “Besides, I happen to know for a fact that the answer to your question is yes.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Cade pinned him with a piercing stare. He hadn’t told
anyone
what he was doing with Ivy. Hell, he wasn’t even sure himself.

Trey shrugged and reached for his beer. “We’ve been friends since college. I can tell when you’re getting some and when you’re not. And you are definitely getting some.”

“Is it my postcoital glow?” Cade batted his eyelashes, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“We’re not girls, asshole.” Trey lifted the bottle to his lips. “But I like you better when you’re getting laid. You’re a lot more fun.”

So much for purely platonic.

Hansen sat cross-legged on the floor. “Now that that’s settled, how about we break out the assault rifles and take out some bad guys?”

“Turn on the TV.” Cade gestured to the remote on the end table next to Sykes, happy to be off the hook even if it meant his relationship with Ivy was semipublic knowledge now. “I’m feeling lucky.”

They’d been playing for less than an hour—Trey had died an early death and Cade was facing off against Sykes, who’d beaten Hansen in rock-paper-scissors for the chance to take on the winner—when the front door opened and Ivy came in. Her face was red from heat and exertion, her once neat ponytail a half-collapsed mess, with strands of escaped hair sticking to her cheeks. She had a smudge of dirt on one arm and her shorts were streaked with what looked like grass stains, as were the formerly white socks sticking out of her work boots.

Yet somehow she’d never looked better, and the realization hit Cade in the solar plexus like a stream of water from a deluge gun.

This was more than a physical thing. He’d want this woman if she was wearing a burlap sack and covered in cow manure.

“Hey, guys.” She put her purse down on a chair in the corner and greeted everyone with a wave. “I see the gang’s all here.”

“Uh, yeah.” Cade set down his controller just as his on-screen alter ego got annihilated by a gunship. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all. I’m glad to see you have company. It must get boring for you here alone all day when I’m working.” She undid her ponytail and shook her hair out, reminding him of how it looked splayed across the pillow as he brought her to the peak again, her body writhing and thrashing beneath him.

Suddenly the damn company couldn’t leave soon enough.

Trey caught Cade’s eye and stood. “We should get going.”

“Stay for dinner.” Ivy motioned for him to sit back down. “I’ll order pizza.”

“Valentino’s?” Hansen asked.

“Meat lovers?” suggested Sykes.

Clueless idiots.

“Is there any other?” Ivy gathered her hair back up and twisted the band around it. A few strands still managed to escape.

“Their bacon-and-onion’s not bad, either,” Trey said, slowly lowering himself back onto the couch with a look to Cade that said, “Sorry, man. Pizza before pussy.”

Traitor.

“I’ll get one of each.” She picked up a grocery bag Cade hadn’t even noticed her carry in. “And I brought some more beer. Heineken, right? And a six-pack of Guinness in case anyone wanted a stout. I’ll go put it in the fridge and order the pies. That’ll give me time for a quick shower before they come.”

She disappeared into the kitchen.

“Damn.” Trey’s eyes followed her departure a little too closely for Cade’s liking. “Pizza and beer. There goes the perfect woman.”