Double Dare (7 page)

“Shut up,” she whispered.

“You shut up and let me finish. Drunk or not, you were so turned on by me, a stranger, that on the first night we met you came for me in less than five minutes.
Me
, a stranger, gave you your first orgasm, Kat, as well as your second. You’re a sensual woman who fears pleasure.”

“I don’t fear it—” She was afraid of the aftermath.

“Then what are you afraid of?”

She set her plate down and wiped her fingers on the napkin. “Exposure.”

“In what capacity?”

“Of my weakness that can be used against me.”

He straightened. “Has it been before?”

She bit her bottom lip and turned away from him. Oh hell yes, it had, and she was paying the ultimate price for it at this very moment.

“Is the douche bag threatening you somehow?”

“No!” she admitted too quickly.

“Is that what you were alluding to earlier?” He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through their texts. Katy squeezed her eyes shut, mortified.

“When I asked if someone had upset you, your answer was, ‘and then some’,” Simon said looking pointedly at her. “Answer me, is douche bag threatening you?” His eyes widened as it dawned on him. “Is he using what happened in San Diego against you?”

“Please, delete that thread of texts.”

He did it immediately and held up the phone for her to see.

“Thank you,” she exhaled, and relaxed as much as she could into the comfortable pillows.

Setting his phone down on the coffee table, Simon’s face drew tight and serious. “Tell me what’s going on.”

The urge to tell Simon everything was overwhelming. He was a man of action and intuitively she knew that if he was involved, heads would start to roll. If he wanted to be involved. Saying it was one thing, actually meaning it was another thing entirely. But what held her back was her fear that if he knew of the lies being told about her, the seeds of doubt would be planted and it could conceivably change the way he perceived her. Right now he saw her as a smart, sexy, uptight scientist. Not a thieving, slutty one. “Nothing you can fix.”

“You cut me to the quick.”

She laughed. He was so old-school sometimes. It was one of the things she liked most about him. “How so?”

“I thought you trusted me.”

“Trust you? I don’t even know you.”

“Then get to know me.” He grinned. “I promise you, the more you get to know me, the more you’ll get to know yourself. When you know us both, that’s when the real fun will begin.”

“Look, I don’t want to get to know you only to discover that I like you, and then—for whatever reason—wake up one day and there be no more you.”

His grin widened. “Oh I think you already like me.
A lot
.”

“You’re an egomaniac!”

He slid another slice of pizza onto her plate and handed it to her, then did the same for himself. “I come by it honestly. Now eat, my little scientist, I like my women with a little more meat on their bones.”

m your woman or one of your women?” There, she’d let him see it. Her possessiveness. Her jealousy. Now what was he going to do with it?

Simon’s green eyes sparkled in a mischievous way. A week ago, it had been enough to get her in bed with him. But now, she wanted more. More than sex.

“I guess that depends on you,” he said.

Nervously, Katy folded and unfolded her napkin. Her throat was suddenly dry. Grasping her glass, she chugged down half the contents in a very unladylike manner.

“What say do I have in your life? Especially when I know nothing about you except that you’re a cop named Simon who has a fetish for sexting and stalking molecular geneticists.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me like that.”

Katy giggled, the sound so foreign to her ears that she stiffened. Dr. Winslow did not giggle, nor had her predecessors, Katrina Winslow college student or high-school geek or loner little girl.

“You should do that more often, Kat, you’re always so serious.”

“Hello,” she said, pointing to her glasses, “molecular geneticist.”

He smiled. “You’re the hottest molecular geneticist I’ve ever met.” He reached over and nudged her glasses down to the tip of her nose. “With or without the glasses.” His smile widened. “Now if you’re an honest molecular geneticist, you’ll admit that you know a little more about me than my name and occupation.”

Heat spattered her cheeks.

“Don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“No maybes about it, Dr. Winslow. Just to make sure, why don’t you tell me what you know about me?”

“I have more questions than answers.”

“Answers first, other than what you’ve already said, what do you know about me?”

“You like pizza and warm Guinness.” She grinned when he raised his brows in a “that’s-not-what-I-mean” look. “You like tits.”

“No, I
love
your tits.”

“Oaky, you love my tits. And at the moment, you love to fuck me.”

“I’d love to make love to you, too,” he said seriously.

Swallowing hard, Katy sipped her water. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too intimate for what we have.”

He smiled tightly. “Baby steps.”

Her heart thumped. He was far more patient with her than she was herself. Would it be rude, she wondered, if she crawled into his lap and wrapped his arms around her?

“You like nice clothes and have good taste.”

He nodded. “What else?”

“You’re a good sexter.”

He smiled and leaned toward her. “My goal is to make you cream every time you hear your text alert.”

Mission accomplished.

Breath rushed from her lungs as she squirmed, causing the balls to roll, which elicited a sharp intake of breath. Biting her lip, she squeezed her eyes shut as the hot wave of desire lessoned a few degrees. “I already do, Simon,” she admitted.

“If I hadn’t promised to keep my hands off you, you’d be on your back with me buried balls deep inside you right now.”

Opening her eyes, she started. He had moved closer, only a foot away now. His breath was warm, and quick, his gaze piercing with unleashed desire.

She wanted sex with Simon more than anything at that moment, but she knew if she succumbed to him, she would somehow regret it. She needed more from him than he had given her.

“What’s your last name?” she asked, trying to redirect the energy

Moving back into the sofa, his face tightened. “I could lie to you or I could ask you to understand that that isn’t something I can divulge at the moment.”

“Oh, so mysterious,” she said, making a woo-woo face.

“Not trying to be.”

“Why then? Because you don’t trust me?”

His features softened slightly. “Because you’re safer not knowing.”

A cloud of darkness passed over his face and she realized he wasn’t lying. She gulped. She got that he was a dangerous man with a dangerous job, but how could knowing his last name endanger her?

Withdrawing, once again feeling like she was a second-class citizen because he had closed up when it came to getting into his head, she murmured, “Maybe one day you will trust me enough to tell me.”

“Again, Cinderella, it isn’t about trust, it’s a safety issue.”

“Okay,” she said, looking away from him.

He reached over and slid her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, then nudged her chin up with two fingers as he turned her to face him. His touch was electrifying. The chemistry between them, palpable. Dry-mouthed and wide-eyed, she stared at him. His deep green eyes darkened to an unfathomable color. He felt it, too. It was kinetic. And crazy. “Why do you always act as if you’ve done something wrong?”

“I don’t,” she denied, ducking her chin.

He nudged it back up and moved closer. His warm breath caressed her cheek. “Yeah, sweetheart, you do.”

She was in uncharted territory here, and it made her uncomfortable. “I—I have issues. They’re dumb and I don’t like to talk about them.”

“They aren’t dumb, and
I
want to talk about them.”

“Why?” she demanded, jerking her chin out of his grasp. “So you can use it against me later?” Like Evan, she thought. Evan, the man she’d known for five years, worked with side by side for three of those five and whom she had slept with for the last six months? The man she thought she might marry. A man she’d known far better than Simon, yet she hadn’t known him at all. Abruptly she stood and the minute she did the damn balls rolled inside of her.

“Fucking Ben Wa balls!” She clasped her legs together at the knees and scurried to the powder room off the living room.

She was slick, and had no problem inserting a finger inside. She fished around for the string and when she found it, hooked her finger around it and gently pulled. The balls slid out.

“Oh, my,” she gasped. The quick subsidence of the pressure the balls were almost as stimulating as the pressure they created. She had hoped for a better end, but in light of the conversation and the company, she was safer without them reminding her of who gave them to her and how he could shatter her body just by looking at her. Wrapping them in tissue, she slid them into her robe pocket, washed her hands, and walked purposefully back into the living room to find Simon standing by the window and gazing out at the illuminated bay.

“This is a great view,” he said absently.

“There’s an even better view from my rooftop patio,” she replied, hoping to change the trajectory of their conversation.

She walked up behind him as he turned to face her. His dark brows jammed together, his full lips tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Cinderella, some more than once. I’ve hurt the people I love, and been hurt by them. I’ve done some shitty things and probably will again, but one thing I have never done is blackmail anyone who wasn’t a criminal. Certainly not anyone I care or cared about. If you can’t trust me to at least not use your words, texts, confessions, or whatever you divulge to me in private against you, then there is no point in continuing this conversation or anything else.”

He strode past her, grabbed his cell phone from the coffee table, and slid it into his trouser pocket. He stared at her, waiting for her to do—something. Words caught in her throat. What? Was she supposed to confess that she was going to go to trial and could possibly go to prison for supposedly stealing something she’d developed herself? That two of her former colleagues had filed sexual harassment charges against her? Or the really scary stuff—that she was sexually fucked up, couldn’t trust anyone if her life depended on it and she had abandonment issues? She couldn’t tell him any of that because he would look at her with disgust and walk out the door. She was a monumental failure and so very ashamed.

He stepped toward her. “C’mon, sweetheart, give me something.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head and looked past him to the hallway.

“Okay,” he said gently, “I get it.” And walked past her, his fingertips trailing the wisps of her long hair around her waist.

No!
she screamed in her head.
You don’t get it! It’s not you, it’s me! You don’t want a woman like me. I’ll just give you a million reasons to walk out the door.
At least this way it was her doing, and more importantly, her heart was still intact. Mostly. As he walked by, he disturbed the air around her, leaving behind his male scent, taunting her with the fact that if she let him walk out the door she would never see him again, and with him would go the best thing she would ever have. All she had to do to make him stay was throw him a bone.

But she couldn’t.

As he reached for the knob, she opened her mouth. As he turned to give her one last chance, she slammed it shut. And then he was gone.

She didn’t remember how long she lay on the floor curled up in a ball and sobbing. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything except that because of her stubbornness and shame, she would never see Simon again. Her heart ached. It ached in a way it had never ached before.

She cried until the sun came up. From her fetal position on the floor, she watched the sun set from swollen eyes. By the next morning she was shaking with fever. That night she called Rosie. Her dear, dear friend didn’t ask questions. Staying by her side, she took care of Katy as a mother would her child. Something Katy’s own mother had never done.

“Rosie,” Katy sobbed. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, sweet pea.”

“Something’s not right. Men use me. My high-school boyfriend used me for writing his reports, my college boyfriend did, too. Evan used me for sex and I think to steal my research notes. And Simon, he used me, too.”

“How? From what you’ve just told me, he sounds like a hunk of burning hot patience.”

Katy smiled through her swollen eyes. “He
is
patient with me, but he won’t even tell me his last name! He must have something to hide.”

“Maybe he told you the truth. Elliot got a clean print off the elevator panel in the hallway. It came up unknown on every scan. He’s probably CIA or something.”

“You watch too many movies, Rosie.”

“He could have lied to you, he didn’t. You’re the one blowing this by not coming clean with him. Tell him everything you told me about those bastards at Genomtec and BioGen. If he cares for you even a little bit, he won’t cast judgment. In fact, if he’s the man I think he is, he’ll go slay those dragons for you and bring back their bloody heads!”

Two days later, with some of her strength back, and summoning all of her courage, Katy called Simon with the sole intent of wiping her slate clean. She didn’t expect anything from him, but she needed to come clean with herself and for the first time in her life, with a man she cared about. He answered on the first ring. “Hello?” His voice was clipped and guarded.

“Something is wrong with me. Every man in my life beginning with my father has deserted me. I’ve never mattered enough to anyone to be first. I’ve always come in last.” She sniffed back a sob. “I was never good enough. I was Evan’s dirty little secret. I don’t want to be anyone’s consolation prize anymore,” she confessed as the tears streamed down her face. “And that’s not even the tip of the iceberg. I have sexual issues. Hang-ups that turn men off because of my fear of rejection. I’m just a dud, Simon. When you eventually figure that out, you’ll break my heart, and I can’t take that. So it’s not you. It’s me. I can’t be fixed.” She sniffed and reached for a tissue and blew her nose. “Trust me, I did you a favor.”