Devlin's Dare (7 page)

“I feel very comfortable coming here, Holt. Don’t make this into some big hoo-d
e-do-dah.”

“I’m not making this into
some big hoo-de-do-dah.”

B
ella leaned in. “What’s a hoo-de-do-dah?”

“But I absolutely would feel uncomfortable coming here without an invitation.”

“Why?”

Why?
“Because it’s not my house.”

“That’s stupid.”
She could smack Bella. Really, she could.

“What’s stupid?”
Egads. Was everyone coming out here? Tara turned to see Lane, still in his pajama bottoms, leaning in the doorway. “Is that bacon?” Despite Bella’s attempt to hide the plate, he grabbed a slice and though she pouted, she let him have one. One. “What’s stupid?” he repeated.

Holt waved a hand in Tara’s direction. “Did you know the reason she hasn’t been coming is because she doesn’t feel welcome?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Why doesn’
t she feel welcome?”

“Because she’s not on the lease.”

Seriously?
“I’m sitting right here.”

Lane
gaped at her, a puzzled frown. “You’re not on the lease?”

“How can you not know who’s on the lease? It’s your goddamn lease!” Honestly. Sometimes Lane was such a doofus.

He shrugged. “I don’t pay attention to stuff like that. I have people for that.” It must be nice to have
people
. It must be nice being richer than Croesus. “But if it’ll make you feel better, we’ll put you on the lease.”

“Yeah,” Bella winked. “And you can start paying your share of the utilities.”

“Bella,” Holt warned.

“She does spend a lot of time in the fridge.”

“I do not!”

“Why is everyone out here?” Kristi asked, stepping onto the deck with Cam following close behind. Really? Everyone?

Yes. Everyone. Because here came Drew, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning widely. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Why is everyone out on the deck?”

“Did you know Tara’s not on the lease?” Bella asked.

Drew blinked. “I thought we added her years ago.”

Holt shook his head. “She’s not on the lease.”

“Well hell.” Drew scrubbed his spiky hair. The Dalmatian tattoo on his bicep bulged. “We need to get her on the lease. Stat. I need you to come more often, Tara.”

“You do?” His woebegone expression was adorable. The batted lashes, probably unnecessary.
But she appreciated his playfulness. It cut the tension. “You need me?”

“I would die without your pastries.”

“Oh my God. Me too.” Cam eyed Bella’s plate.

“I’ll have my lawyer take care of it on Monday
and bring the paperwork by for you to sign.”

A heat rose on her cheeks. “No
, Lane. I… You don’t have to do that.” Hell. This show of solidarity for her was welcoming enough. Unfamiliar. Uncomfortable, maybe. But damn nice.

“Tara.”
Da-ham.
Holt could be authoritative when he put his mind to it. Her name rumbled on the skeins of the wind, as though he’d used
The Voice.
“You are one of us. You belong here. You will sign the lease.”

“Sign the lease,”
Drew chanted, and, of course, the others joined in. The doofuses. Doofii. Whatever. She freaking loved them.

“Do you promise to sign the lease?”
Holt asked. “Do you?”

“
Yes Holt. I will.” she said, fluttering her lashes, because playing it off like a joke was the only way she could deal with the depth of her emotion. The only way she could keep tears from dribbling down her cheek.

“Excellent.”

She picked up her mug and said, with a gruff grunt, “I need more coffee.” But before she could escape, Kristi stopped her with a hug.  “What was that for?”

Kristi grinned. “I’m proud of you.”

“Proud of me? For what?”

“You’re signing the lease.” Did
she need to smirk like that?

“And?”

“And that, my dearest friend, is a commitment. Not a huge commitment, but definitely a step in the right direction.”

Tara
pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything. Kristi was having fun teasing her and she didn’t want to ruin the moment. But when Holt hugged her too, things got a little awkward. On account of Bella’s glower.

But he made it better when he whispered in her ear, “For the record, Tara, as
far as we’re concerned you have always been one of us.”

Tara made it a point to get to Avery’s party early on Saturday. She’d seen the kinds of forfeits Avery could deal out and she wanted no part of them. Of all her friends, only Bella and Holt were brave enough to accompany her. Bella was even kind enough to lend her something with a little kink to wear so she would fit in.

Lane
and Drew claimed to have very important business to attend to, which was the coward’s way of saying Avery’s parties were a little too wild for their delicate sensibilities, but Cam and Kristi had been far more blunt. They had plans to canoodle.

What a shocker.

Avery and her friend Mel greeted them at the door. Avery wore a sparkly tiara festooned with little pink penises. And though they were early, the party was in full swing. Apparently no one wanted to be the last to arrive. The great room thrummed with music. Couples danced and chatted and sipped. It seemed like a regular party—just like any other party.

Tara knew better.

At some point the action would move down into the basement, into the dungeon. That’s when things would get really wild.

That was probably when she’d slip out.

Though Avery had expressly invited Devlin too, Tara knew he wasn’t coming. The expression on his face had made his intentions crystal clear. The thought depressed her a little—because a part of her really wanted to see him again. And maybe fuck him again.

She told that part of her to shut up.

It was a relief not having to worry about seeing him again.

It was.

“Hello darling
s!” Avery cooed, giving Tara a hug. She hugged Bella and Holt as well. Holt got a little more than a hug. In fact, it took a scorching glower from Bella to put the kibosh on Avery’s groping. Fortunately Holt had a lot to grope. And he didn’t seem to mind. When she was finished manhandling him, she turned to Tara. “Where’s your lover?”

Perhaps it was the lurid tone with which Avery said the word, or the scorching rush that flooded Tara’s cheeks, but something snagged Bella’s attention and she gored Tara with an accusatory
stare. “Your
lover
? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t
have a boyfriend.”

“I thought you were on hiatus.”

“I am.”

Avery tipped her head to the side. “What is this hiatus of which you speak?”

Tara crossed her arms and glared at them all. Holt’s grin did not amuse her.

“She’s gone off men.” Hell. Why did Bella have to put it that way? In front of Mel? Mel, who perked up like a beagle offered a slice of crispy bacon.

“Gone off men?” She sidled closer.

“Not like that,” Tara muttered. “I’m taking a break.”

“Hmm.” Avery tapped her plush lips with a finger. “Didn’t seem like that last night.”

“What?” Bella screeched. She
whirled on Holt. “Did you know about this? Why am I always the last one to know about stuff like this?”

Tara bristled.
“It’s nothing!”

“I saw the way he looked at you, sweetheart.” Avery cooed. “It wasn’t nothing.”

“It was a game of pool. That’s it. Nothing more. A. Game. Of. Pool.”

Clearly,
Avery wasn’t buying Tara’s denial. Neither was Mel, but they exchanged a mischievous glance and let the topic drop.

“Here,” Mel said, handing each of them a party hat. “Put these on. And don’t peek.”

“Don’t peek?”

Mel pointed to her hat, an itty bitty top hat set at an improbable angle. There was a small card attached to it that said
Marquis de Sade
. “The game is, you have to find your partner.” Her long silver lashes fluttered as she winked.

Holt pulled Bella closer. “I have my partner.”

Avery rolled her eyes with a huge sigh. “You’re no fun, Holt.” She turned to Mel and grumbled, “Give them both A. N. Roquelaure.”

Mel pouted. “I don’t want to give them both A. N. Roquelaure. They have to play the game like everyone else.”

Holt growled and Mel reluctantly handed over their hats. But she deliberately thrust the pink princess cone with the flowing veil at Holt, and gave Bella the police hat. Bella was adorable in it, but of course, Holt switched them out. Tara had to admit, Holt looked much better as a sexy cop, especially dressed as he was in full leathers. Bella wore a matching outfit of tight leather pants and a sexy bustier, with a delicate jeweled collar. A perfect pair. And there was no doubt they were together.

For her part, Tara had worn her usual uniform of jeans and a blouse, but in a concession to the party theme, and thrown on
Bella’s tightly nipped corset. It was enough to make her look the part, without all the added aggravation of wearing latex. Which she would never borrow from Bella anyway. Or anyone, for that matter.

“Here’s yours,” Mel said, setting a fluffy pair of bunny ears on her head.

“Bunny ears?” she squeaked. “Seriously?”

Mel snickered and taped a card to one of the ears. “Here you go. You have to mill around in the crowd and find your
partner by asking yes or no questions about your card. There’s a prize for the first five pairs who find their mate. Except for you two because you’re cheating.” She waggled a finger at Bella and Holt. 

“We’re not cheating,” Holt muttered. “We’re not even playing.”

Mel ignored him. “And, of course, a punishment for those who come in last.”

Tara glanced at her friends. She frowned when they both read her card and broke out laughing. “What?” she snapped.

“Nothing.” Holt scrubbed his lips, but the smile remained. Bella studied the ceiling and whistled.

Bastards.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Avery said. “Go on in. Mingle. Have fun!”

“And no cheating,” Mel
trilled.

“I hate this shit,” Tara muttered as they made their way across the airy great room toward the bar.

“At least it’s entertaining,” Holt said with a smirk.

Tara
studied the assemblage. And yeah, it was entertaining. Men and women—and ones she wasn’t quite sure about—mingled and danced and laughed. Elves, sailors, firemen…even a guy in a fedora. All trying to get a peek at someone’s card. Some were in a clear frenzy to find their partner—and avoid Avery’s punishments. Though some were looking for a partner of another kind.

Avery typically opened her whole house for these parties. All of the rooms upstairs were available if a couple—or more than a couple—were so inclined. Most of the rooms had themes.

By midnight there would be a tangle of limbs somewhere—guaranteed.

Tara would be long gone by midnight.

If there was one saving grace at Avery’s parties, it was the fact she knew how to set up an excellent bar. Then again, when one played the kinds of games Avery and Mel preferred, it helped to get their guests a little drunk. Or a lot drunk.

Tara gest
ured to the bartender, a pretty boy slave dressed in a leather harness, vinyl underwear—and little else. “Gin,” she said. “Straight.” When he delivered it, she tossed it back and requested another.

“You better go find your partner,” Bella said. “Before you’re too plastered to form a question.”

“Why don’t you just tell me who I am?”

Bella chuckled. “What makes you think you’re a person?”

“Am I a person?”

Holt snorted. “Sort of.”

Bella smacked him. And then they both laughed.

It annoyed the crap out of Tara that they were in on a joke and she wasn’t. So she took her drink and plowed into the crowd, determined to find her stupid partner and end this stupid game.

She’d determined she wasn’t a spreader bar, a pair of handcuffs, a triskelion or
O
fairly quickly by walking up to people with those designations and simply asking if her card matched what she read on theirs. Mel would probably count that as cheating, but Tara didn’t care. It was, after all, a stupid game.

She was talking to Jonathan, a tall, slender guy in a cowboy hat who was looking for another
squick
when she saw
him
, standing there in the foyer, so tall and broad and staring directly at her. Of course he’d scored a sexy hat. And what was sexier than devil ears? Talk about appropriate. He was the very devil.

Her pulse leapt
at the sight of him, her clit thrummed in an unbearable tattoo. It exasperated her, her response to him. If only her body would listen to her brain. She was not—
not
—in the market for a man. Flings led to relationships and relationships led to complications.

What she needed now was to focus on building her business.

Devlin Fox would not be helpful in that department.

Three burps proved that.

Three frickin burps.

Deliberately, she turned away and fixed her attention on the cowboy
squick
, though the words he was saying only hummed in her ears.

He was here.

She hadn’t expected him to come.

Then again, she had. Perhaps, in her heart of hearts, she’d hoped he would. Maybe that was why she’d decided to brave the whips and chains she knew were in her future…or someone’s future.

And surely he wasn’t even more magnificent than she recalled? It had only been a day since she’d seen him. A day since he’d buried
himself deep within her, thrusting and panting and painting pleasure on her every nerve.

Unable to resist, she shot a
peek in his direction.  

The moment their eyes met, he started toward her. Like a heat seeking missile.

Her heart stuttered. Her body flooded. Her muscles locked. She couldn’t move. She felt like a gazelle on the broad Serengeti, stalked by a lion, paralyzed by the anticipation of the coming onslaught and unable to escape. Unwilling to flee. Her destiny marched toward her through the milling throng of pirates and puppy dogs—and every other presence, every other voice in the room receded.

“Hi there.” An
irritating buzz to her left. “Am I a switch?”

Tara blinked and
turned to the fellow who had sidled up to her in Jonathan’s stead. Apparently
he
had given up on her. This guy was tall and thickly muscled, shaved bald and covered with tattoos. Also, he was dressed in full leathers. In her experience, guys who came to Avery’s parties in leathers were either Doms or wanna-be-doms. Regardless, the bobbling Martian antennae ruined the effect. “I beg your pardon?”

“My card. Does it say switch?” He leaned closer. “Cause I would be a switch for you.”

Oh God
. He was coming on to her. Her stomach heaved. She wasn’t sure if it was humor, revulsion or keen anticipation. She could
feel
Devlin moving closer, as though they were connected by a vibrating thread. She forced herself to focus on this guy’s card. It said
Master
. “Ah, no. You are not a switch.”

He winked. “No problem. We can work it out. Do you…ah…wan
na go upstairs?”

“Up…stairs?” Shit. He didn’t waste any time. Too bad she wasn’t in the market for an alien Dom.

A heavy arm fell over her shoulders. “Sorry dude,” Devlin’s deep voice rumbled in her ear. “She’s my switch.”

The Mart
ian’s gaze flicked from Devlin’s card to hers and his hopeful expression crumbled. “Sorry man. I didn’t realize she was taken.” He melted back into the crowd, antennae bobbling.

Tara turned to Devlin. Her attention flicked up to his card.
Switch.
Her lips twitched. “Am I a switch?” she asked, though she knew. At least she was pretty sure.

“I dunno,” he grinned. “Are you?”

She smacked him gently on the shoulder. He’d dressed for the party, but barely. Jeans and a t-shirt seemed to be his standard attire. “Does my card say
Switch
?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She glanced at Avery, who was watching them from the bar and not bothering to hide her smirk. She lifted her glass,
the bitch.”
I guess we’re partners then.”

His grin broadened. “I guess we are.”

“Judging from Avery’s glee, this will be mortifying.”

“As well it should be.”

She nodded at his jean-clad legs. “I see you found another pair.”

“I packed extras.”

She nibbled her lip. “I, ah, hope you can keep these on.”

“I don’t.” His smile was infectious. Then the playful mood between them shifted into something darker. He leaned in a
nd whispered, “Why did you leave?”

She
turned away, staring at the partygoers, seeing nothing. She shrugged. “Wanted to avoid that whole awkward walk-of-shame thing.”

He tipped her chin back, met her
eyes. “There’s no shame in what we did. In fact, it was fucking phenomenal.”