Double Dare
Page 12
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“Shut up.”
He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him. “I could have double dared you to ride every rollercoaster in the park, twice.”
And he still could, she reminded herself as she stood there and accepted the comfort that he was offering her. As she watched the car full of screaming people race up another incline and-
She realized that she really was going to die today.
“I still could,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.
“Could what?” she asked, struggling to focus on what he was saying, but it was difficult with all that screaming.
“I could still double dare you to ride all the rollercoasters,” he whispered seductively in her ear.
“And I could kill you in your sleep,” she said, making the bastard chuckle.
“You could…” he said, letting his words trail off with a chuckle.
“I hate you.”
“I’m feeling another double dare coming on.”
Sighing in defeat. “I wish that I’d never let you talk me into playing this game in the first place.”
“You were the one that started this game,” he said, lying his Bradford ass off.
She scoffed at that, because if there was one thing that she was sure of, it was that this game that neither one of them had the good sense to stop playing was all his fault. She was just the idiot that couldn’t stop playing, and she really wished that she could stop, but she just couldn’t. Not when she got such joy out of double daring his ass into doing something ten times worse than the dares that he gave her.
“Perhaps I should refresh your memory?” he suggested as he brushed his lips along her jawline while she watched with dread as the now empty car rolled slowly towards them, signaling her doom. “I believe we were eight when you double dared me for the first time.”
She snorted at that even as she leaned back, savoring his touch. “You double dared me the first day that we met.”
“Yes, but you were the one that decided to make it a game.”
She opened her mouth to argue, only to shut her eyes with a pathetic groan as she sagged back against him in defeat, because he was right. The reason that she was now standing in line, patiently awaiting her death was her own fault.
“You dared me to eat a big bowl of worms and dirt mixed with that moldy white stuff that we found in the back of your mother’s fridge,” he reminded her just as the empty car came to a stop in front them, presenting her with the very first row.
“You could have said no,” she muttered as the small gate blocking her way slowly opened.
“I could have,” he agreed, sounding thoughtful before he added, “but then I’d miss moments like this.”
“I hate you,” she mumbled, swallowing nervously and sending up a silent prayer as she once again forced her feet to take her where she didn’t want to be.
“You love me,” he said, chuckling as he helped her step inside the car.
“No, I really do hate you,” she said solemnly with a nod as she closed her eyes and waited to be reunited with Porky, her beloved hamster that died when she was four after she may have given him a huge slice of double chocolate fudge birthday cake.
Darrin’s long-suffering sigh as he buckled her in made her want to kick the bastard, but that would require her to open her eyes and she refused to do that until she was back on solid ground again.
“You hate me?” he asked as she registered the sounds of the harness being lowered.
“Yes!” she hissed, hating him with every fiber of her being at that moment even as she blindly reached out and grabbed his hand, deciding that if she was going to die then she was going to do it holding the hand of the bastard that she loved.
“Then I guess I have no other choice,” he said, sounding putout and instantly putting her on the defense.
Her eyes flew open as she turned her head to face him. “Darrin, don’t do-”
“I double dare you,” the bastard said, cutting her off and sealing his fate, because if she survived this day, which wasn’t looking likely, she was going to kill him!
*-*-*-*
“Separate rooms,” Marybeth mumbled, still looking a tad bit green.
“We have two rooms on the second flo-”
Darrin cut her off by holding up a hand. “One room is fine.”
“Two…,” Marybeth said, pausing to close her eyes as she noticeably swallowed, “please.”
The woman working behind the desk sent him a questioning look. “Would you like one room or two, sir?”
“One,” he said and when Marybeth opened her mouth to try to get out of spending the night in his arms, he slapped his hand over her mouth and stressed, “Just one room.”
She glanced at Marybeth, but when Marybeth didn’t say anything, mostly because she was too busy trying to slap his hand away, the woman focused back on her computer screen. “I have a queen, two doubles and a king with-”
“We’ll take the king,” he said, cutting her off, hoping to rush this along before Marybeth-
“Ow!” he snapped, pulling his hand away and trying shake off the sting as he glared down at the small woman that adored him. “Stop pinching me!”
“We,” she said, practically seething with rage, “are no longer speaking.”
“Shhh, it’s okay, darling. I know that you really don’t mean it,” he said in his most condescending tone as he reached over and petted her on the head, loving the way that her face turned bright red with rage.
He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him. “I could have double dared you to ride every rollercoaster in the park, twice.”
And he still could, she reminded herself as she stood there and accepted the comfort that he was offering her. As she watched the car full of screaming people race up another incline and-
She realized that she really was going to die today.
“I still could,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.
“Could what?” she asked, struggling to focus on what he was saying, but it was difficult with all that screaming.
“I could still double dare you to ride all the rollercoasters,” he whispered seductively in her ear.
“And I could kill you in your sleep,” she said, making the bastard chuckle.
“You could…” he said, letting his words trail off with a chuckle.
“I hate you.”
“I’m feeling another double dare coming on.”
Sighing in defeat. “I wish that I’d never let you talk me into playing this game in the first place.”
“You were the one that started this game,” he said, lying his Bradford ass off.
She scoffed at that, because if there was one thing that she was sure of, it was that this game that neither one of them had the good sense to stop playing was all his fault. She was just the idiot that couldn’t stop playing, and she really wished that she could stop, but she just couldn’t. Not when she got such joy out of double daring his ass into doing something ten times worse than the dares that he gave her.
“Perhaps I should refresh your memory?” he suggested as he brushed his lips along her jawline while she watched with dread as the now empty car rolled slowly towards them, signaling her doom. “I believe we were eight when you double dared me for the first time.”
She snorted at that even as she leaned back, savoring his touch. “You double dared me the first day that we met.”
“Yes, but you were the one that decided to make it a game.”
She opened her mouth to argue, only to shut her eyes with a pathetic groan as she sagged back against him in defeat, because he was right. The reason that she was now standing in line, patiently awaiting her death was her own fault.
“You dared me to eat a big bowl of worms and dirt mixed with that moldy white stuff that we found in the back of your mother’s fridge,” he reminded her just as the empty car came to a stop in front them, presenting her with the very first row.
“You could have said no,” she muttered as the small gate blocking her way slowly opened.
“I could have,” he agreed, sounding thoughtful before he added, “but then I’d miss moments like this.”
“I hate you,” she mumbled, swallowing nervously and sending up a silent prayer as she once again forced her feet to take her where she didn’t want to be.
“You love me,” he said, chuckling as he helped her step inside the car.
“No, I really do hate you,” she said solemnly with a nod as she closed her eyes and waited to be reunited with Porky, her beloved hamster that died when she was four after she may have given him a huge slice of double chocolate fudge birthday cake.
Darrin’s long-suffering sigh as he buckled her in made her want to kick the bastard, but that would require her to open her eyes and she refused to do that until she was back on solid ground again.
“You hate me?” he asked as she registered the sounds of the harness being lowered.
“Yes!” she hissed, hating him with every fiber of her being at that moment even as she blindly reached out and grabbed his hand, deciding that if she was going to die then she was going to do it holding the hand of the bastard that she loved.
“Then I guess I have no other choice,” he said, sounding putout and instantly putting her on the defense.
Her eyes flew open as she turned her head to face him. “Darrin, don’t do-”
“I double dare you,” the bastard said, cutting her off and sealing his fate, because if she survived this day, which wasn’t looking likely, she was going to kill him!
*-*-*-*
“Separate rooms,” Marybeth mumbled, still looking a tad bit green.
“We have two rooms on the second flo-”
Darrin cut her off by holding up a hand. “One room is fine.”
“Two…,” Marybeth said, pausing to close her eyes as she noticeably swallowed, “please.”
The woman working behind the desk sent him a questioning look. “Would you like one room or two, sir?”
“One,” he said and when Marybeth opened her mouth to try to get out of spending the night in his arms, he slapped his hand over her mouth and stressed, “Just one room.”
She glanced at Marybeth, but when Marybeth didn’t say anything, mostly because she was too busy trying to slap his hand away, the woman focused back on her computer screen. “I have a queen, two doubles and a king with-”
“We’ll take the king,” he said, cutting her off, hoping to rush this along before Marybeth-
“Ow!” he snapped, pulling his hand away and trying shake off the sting as he glared down at the small woman that adored him. “Stop pinching me!”
“We,” she said, practically seething with rage, “are no longer speaking.”
“Shhh, it’s okay, darling. I know that you really don’t mean it,” he said in his most condescending tone as he reached over and petted her on the head, loving the way that her face turned bright red with rage.
