Truth Or Dare (14 page)

All the sleepy satisfaction left her face. Instinctively, her arms jerked, trying to be free. She glanced up at the handcuffs still around her wrists, then back at him. She cried out. Her legs twisted and tugged, shaking the bed.

Disregarding her futile efforts, though they tore at his heart, George sat up. Knowing she watched him, he disposed of the second condom much as he had the first. The sound of her strenuous breathing filled the air between them.

When he finished, he turned on the bedside lamp and faced her. She squinted against the light, tried to twist away from it, from him. Her voluminous skirt was now bunched and tangled around her thighs.

“George, please …” she said, without much evident hope.

Her pleading tone ate at him—and strengthened his resolve. He shoved her skirt aside—and froze.

Becky gave a soft sob.

Her entire right thigh was marred with zigzagging scars, some deep, some shallow. The skin was puckered, pinkish in places, roughened in others. They feathered out around the front of her hip, then got worse, uglier, down her leg, her knee, and partially onto her calf.

Acting solely on emotion, George cupped his hand around her knee and bent closer. “Jesus, what happened?”

“Don’t touch me.”

Her flat voice brought out his frown. “Don’ttouch you? You’re naked in bed, Becky. I’ve just finished making love to you, twice. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known, and regardless of what you think of me, I care about you. Of course I’ll touch you.”

“Go away.”

“Not on your life.” He was angry at her for not trusting him, for evidently considering him a shallow ass. He was angry that she’d hidden herself for so long, that she’d let it matter too much. Angry that she didn’t know what a beautiful, amazing, unbelievable woman she was.

She didn’t even realize he loved her.

“Tell me what happened.”

Devoid of feeling, she said, “A car wreck.”

He caressed her, from the inside of her knee to her groin then back again. Bound as she was, she couldn’t do a damn thing to stop him. “How old were you?”

“Twelve.”

“Surgery?” His heart threatened to break, thinking of his Becky at the tender age of twelve, so hurt, so emotionally wounded, too.

She managed a shrug despite the handcuffs. “Some. It helped me to walk again, but there was nothing they could do to make it look better.”

Very gently, George said, “They’re just scars, Becky.”

“They’re hideous. Kids … they used to make fun of me at school. The ones who weren’t mean, who didn’t tease, just stared instead. They’d look at me with pity.” She spoke with no emotion at all. “My mom started buying me long skirts to hide my leg, but by then, everyone already knew.”

“So you never dated? Never gave a guy a chance?”

She looked at him, her face almost blank. “I dated a guy once. When he saw my leg, he got sick.” Her laugh scared him because it didn’t sound like his Becky, didn’t sound sweet and shy and innocent. “Needless to say, he never asked me out again.”

George floundered for a proper reply, but all he could think to say was the truth. “I’m not him, you know.”

“No?”

“Nope. It doesn’t matter to me, Becky.”

She laughed again.

George decided he’d just have to show her. He gave her a friendly slap on the hip. “You know what I want to do?”

Her gaze turned wary. “What?”

“I want to turn you loose, first. Much as I enjoy seeing you like this”—he leered at her, to make his point—“I know your arms must be getting tired.”

“They are.” She still looked doubtful.

“Okay then. We’ll shower, probably fool around a little more, then I’d like to spend the night.” He put his hand back on her belly, this time under her skirt. “Will you let me stay with you?”

“Why?” She appeared genuinely perplexed by his request.

“You mean other than the fact that I haven’t gotten nearly enough of you?” He grinned at her expression. “All right, I’ll bare my soul again. I’m a man in need of reassurance. I’ve got that damned reputation to live up to, but you only came twice and then only after I’d already acted like a pig andlost control. I need to know that you still respect me.”

“George,” she said, almost laughing but not quite.

He tickled his fingertips down her leg to her ankle, back up again to her hipbone. “I need to know that you haven’t lost hope, that you’ll give me a few more chances to show you that I can be a considerate lover. A great lover. A lover worthy of an awesome reputation.” He bobbed his eyebrows. “I can’t have you running back to work with tales of my shortcomings.”

“Shortcomings?” She smiled past her tears. “You’re a nut. You already know you’re awesome.”

“Awesome enough that you’ll let me spend the night?”

The laughter was replaced with hope. “You really want to?”

“Damn straight.” He unhooked her legs and massaged them in case they were stiff. He ignored her rigidity when he rubbed over the scars, pretending he hadn’t noticed. “Feel better?”

A hot blush colored her face. “Yes.”

George unhooked both her arms and went through the same process, rubbing and stroking. Then he looked down at her breasts. “I feel like Pavlov’s dog.”

She folded her arms around herself. “What do you mean?”

“I see your breasts, and already I’m conditioned to drool.” He shook his head, a little stunned, a lot chagrined. “Damn, I want you again. Already. I’m insatiable.”

Two heartbeats passed, and then Becky tackled him to his back. She trembled, and she had a deathgrip on his neck. George, feeling his own throat close with emotion, held her tight. “Don’t cry, Becky. I can’t bear it.”

She sniffed and snuggled closer. “George?”

“Yeah?”

“If I let you stay, you have to let me measure you.”

He laughed and rolled her beneath him. “Deal.”

George woke to an empty bed. He sat bolt upright in alarm, but Becky was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, he realized sunshine filtered through the drapes. When he looked at the clock, he was stunned to realize he’d slept so late. It was nearly ten, when he almost never stayed in bed after eight. Especially when there wasn’t a woman in bed with him.

He frowned—then heard the feminine whispering in the other room. Becky had company, and he could just guess who it was. Asia and that damned Erica. Were they gossiping about him even now?

George grabbed up a sheet, halfheartedly wrapped it around his waist, and slunk to the door to listen. Yep, that strident voice belonged to Erica. Was she trying to talk Becky out of getting involved? She was so damned cynical about men, even when she was being amusing.

Because he couldn’t hear anything clearly, George opened the door and slipped halfway down the hall. He heard Asia say, “You let him spend the whole night? Why, Becky, you little tart.”

The women laughed, so he knew Asia was only teasing.

“Is it love at first lay, then?” Erica wanted toknow, and George thought about storming out and muzzling her.

But Becky’s next words stopped him cold.

“Of course not. Erica. I’m actually amazed that he even wanted to stay the night.”

Both Erica and Asia asked, “Why?”

There was a long expectant moment, and Becky sighed. “There’s something neither of you know.”

George peeked around the corner in time to see Erica bound to her feet. “What did he do to you?”

“No, it’s not like that.”

Asia touched Erica’s arm. “There’s something she wants to tell us. Is that right, Becky?”

“Yes.” But rather than explain, Becky stood. She straightened stiff and proud, and lifted her nightgown, showing her friends her leg.

George wanted to groan. He knew she expected them to be horrified, to be disgusted. If either of them hurt her feelings, he’d …

Asia whispered, “Dear God, Becky, what happened?”

And Erica asked with concern, “Does it still hurt?”

Becky dropped her nightgown back into place. “I was in a wreck when I was young. No, it doesn’t hurt, but you see how ugly it is.”

Erica turned militant. “Did George think it was ugly?”

“He said not. He said it didn’t matter.”

“Of course he’s right.” Asia stood to hug her. “You should trust what he tells you, honey.”

Erica laughed. “True enough. George doesn’tcare about a few scars on your leg, Becky. He probably only cares about what’s between your legs.”

The comment sent George right over the edge. Dressed only in a sheet, he stormed into the room. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Erica.”

Erica stood, too, so that the three women grouped together to stare at him in shock.

Three sets of feminine eyes roved over him, from his naked chest and legs to his tenuous hold on the sheet at his hip.

Asia gulped.

Becky blushed. “George, you’re naked!”

Erica recovered first. She gave a wolf whistle, then said to Becky, “Honey, there are some things a woman never complains about. I think this might be just such an occasion.”

George was too disgruntled to be embarrassed. “I don’t like having you speak for me, Erica.”

Asia raised her brows. “You’re saying she’s wrong? That you do care about Becky’s leg?”

Becky looked horrified. “Asia!”

“Of course I care about her leg.”

In a united front, Asia and Erica flanked Becky. They looked ready to castrate him. Becky looked devastated.

At the ragged end of his emotions, George stomped forward. When he touched Becky’s cheek, his hand shook. “I love your leg, and what’s between your legs, and your heart and your hair and your—”

Becky gulped out a laugh. Her face turned bright pink.

Beside her, Asia beamed. “Well now, this is wonderful.”

Erica snorted. Before she could say anything, George reeled on her. “Isn’t it your turn to go hang out in the porn shop?”

A heavy silence fell. All three women scrutinized him, Asia with a touch of guilt.

Becky breathed in accusation, “You knew.”

George wanted things settled. “Damn right I knew.” He cocked a brow. “Or at least I thought I did. You put a definite spin on things that I hadn’t anticipated.”

Asia and Erica leaned around Becky to look at each other. “A spin? Now that sounds interesting. Do tell.”

George rolled his eyes and ignored them. “I didn’t really give a damn what your so-called fantasy was, because all my fantasies are about you. No matter what, I couldn’t lose.”

Erica rubbed her hands together. “Better and better.”

George growled, “Will you two go? I’d like to propose in private.”

Becky blinked. “Propose? You mean … you mean …”

Knowing he’d just blown any chance for privacy, George groaned. Then, filled with determination, he cupped Becky’s chin and demanded, “Marry me, Becky.”

Asia squealed. Erica laughed. Next thing George knew, he was caught in their circle and they were all dancing and jumping and singing their way around the room like a gaggle of loons.

He damn near lost his sheet, and when he made a grab for it, he stumbled. “Damn it, she hasn’t said yes, yet!”

They stopped bouncing around. Becky coveredher mouth with a shaking hand. She looked at Erica, looked at Asia. Glowed at George. “Yes.”

Satisfaction rolled through George, followed closely by a tidal wave of lust. “Good.” He grabbed her wrist with his free hand. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Erica burst out laughing. “Men. They are so predictable.”

George stumbled to an outraged halt.

Asia said, “Uh-oh. Bad timing, my girl.”

He turned and stalked back to Erica. “You are next, right, Erica?”

She lifted her brows with mock confusion. “Next?”

“To visit the blasted shop.” He had her cornered and they both knew it. He took swift advantage. “So tell us, Erica, what’s your fantasy?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she quipped, but Asia and Becky just crossed their arms, not offering her an iota of help. Asia even tapped her foot.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Why?” George put his arm around Becky, hauling her close. “Because I’m a lowly male?”

Becky said, “He’s very understanding, Erica,” and George couldn’t help but kiss her.

“George will be family, soon,” Asia pointed out. “So tell.”

Rolling her eyes, Erica blurted, “All right, all right.” She put her hands on her hips, thrust her chin in the air, and said, “Prepare yourself, kiddies.” Then she named her fantasy with a taunting smile.

Asia and Becky went wide-eyed. George straightened in surprise. Thinking of what she intended, and what she’d likely get, George started to laugh—until Erica gave him a sloe-eyed, seductive look. He could tell that she expected him to poke fun, to ridicule her. Her opinions on men weren’t overly complimentary.

Well, he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting as she expected.

But he couldn’t resist saying, “I pity the poor bastard who runs into you. He doesn’t stand a chance.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Erica assured him.

Giving up, George turned and dragged Becky back toward the bedroom.

Asia was still laughing when Becky yelled over her shoulder, “I think it sounds wonderful, Erica! You can start on Monday.”

George pulled her into the room and slammed the door. He dropped the sheet, picked her up, and crawled into bed with her held close to his heart. “Wonderful, huh?”

Becky touched his chest. “Not as wonderful as you.”

George stared into her eyes, watching her reactions as he slid his hands up her thighs, then spread them wide so he could nestle in between. Becky flinched when he touched her scarred leg, but George knew now that she’d get over that in time. In a thousand ways, he’d show her that she was the perfect woman for him. “I love you, Becky.” He stroked her thigh. “All of you.”

Big tears welled in her eyes. “I love you too.”

“Is that right?” He was already hard, but hearing her say that made him burn.

“I’ve been hung up on you for a long time. What you said about me being your fantasy? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

George smiled. “That’s all I ever want to be.” He kissed her. “Yours.”

“George?”

She sounded so serious, George gave up his contemplation of her breasts to give her all his attention. “What, babe?”