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A pick 'n' mix genre author. "I'm not greedy. I just like variety."

Wednesday, 12 December 2012

Wednesday Briefs: Truth or Dare?

I'm afraid I had to skip last weeks instalment of Wednesday briefs due to be idiotically busy again. So, many apologies about that. Needless to say that today's post is continuing from where we left off a fortnight ago. Once again I would just like to point out this is super rough writing that hasn't been double check or gone through edits . . . at least not yet.

This weeks prompt is: "What did you just say?"


~ * ~

Truth or Dare?

“I’m not playing with you.”

I tensed as he straightened. My arms automatically flew to my chest, a weak attempt to create some much needed space. Something that was hard to achieve when I was still sitting on his lap. With a smirk he leaned in and brushed his lips along my jaw.

“Why?” he whispered.

A shiver ran down my neck. “Because I hate you, remember?”

He pulled away enough so that he could look at me. He cocked an eyebrow. A smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. “You hate me so much that you just had your tongue down my throat?”

“This”-I waved my hand between us-“was a dare that your stupid brother gave me before he ran off. All of this was brought on by your stupid idea for a crap drinking game.”

“You’re not having fun?”

With a scowl, I placed my hands on the arms of the chair, and pushed. Trey tightened his grip on my hips, keeping me in place.

“Get. Off.” I sunk as much iron in to my tone as I could muster,

“So, that’s it? You’re just going to go off in a huff and not take this once in a lifetime opportunity to ask anything you want?”

“I have nothing I want to ask you, and if I did, you would probably lie anyway.”

“I’m drunk. Drunk people tell the truth.”

“Like hell they do. Besides you’re not that drunk.”

“Then dare me something.”

I snorted. “No, because I’m not that drunk or stupid.”

“Come on, Danny. You can dare me to do absolutely anything you want; anything you desire.” He slid his hands down the side of my thighs, and back again. “Dare me to kiss you.”


“Dare me to touch you.”

“You’re already touching me too much.” And oh, how I liked the feel of his hands on me. I just hated that my clothing was too thick a barrier. I wanted to see how smooth her rough his skin was against mine.

“Then I dare you to dare me to spread you wide and bury my head between your thighs.”

I opened my mouth only to close it again. Words fled me only to be replaced with glorious scenarios of him making good on such a dare. My clit pulsed.

“But don’t you dare sit on my lap and tell me you haven’t thought about taking me for a ride, because I’ve thought about it. I can’t even fucking count how many times I thought about palming this gorgeous ass of yours while burying myself balls deep inside you.” He dragged me to him; lifting his hops slightly so I could feel his jean clad erection rubbing against my covered core. “You make me so fucking hard, Danny.”

My breath hitched as he rubbed against me. Want burned deep inside. 
“Ever since that night when you kissed me in the club-”

“You rejected me.” The words feel from my lips before I had a chance to stop them.

He shook his head. “You ran away.”

“Did not.”

“Did too, but it doesn’t matter, because you were drunk.” He ran his hand up my side, slipping it beneath the material of my t-shirt. “I want you sober enough to know that it is me making you scream.”

My throat felt so dry. “I-I’m drunk now.”

His fingers danced over my ribcage. “Not like you were that night.” He cupped my breast, swiping his thumb across my beaded nipple.

My eyelids fluttered shut, and a soft moan slipped from my lips. “Trey?”

“See, sober enough for me.” He pressed a kiss to the hollow of my throat. “Just stop pretending and tell me the truth, Danny. You want me, right?”

I tilted my head back; giving him access to my throat. “It’s not my turn to answer questions.”

“Just answer.”

Part of me wished I was drunk, because then at least I had something I could blame all this idiocy on. It was better that this be a drunken mistake, then a regret. Better that the veil of alcohol distort the details then being able to remember every touch, whisper, and movement.

Lying would be the easy option; anything that would get him out of my apartment so I could wash away the feel of his lips on my skin. God his lips, feather light and yet sinful. Would they feel as good on more sensitive areas?

Two years of bantering. Two years of fantasising. Two years worth of batteries for a toy that never took away that deep forbidden itch.

The real question was, would I be able to cope if I let this opportunity slip through my fingers? If I let the sexy bastard between my thighs walk away?

“Danny?” He brushed his lips against my neck. “Give me an answer once and for all.”

With a ragged breath, I brought my focus back on level with his. “I dare you to find out for yourself.”

Uncertainty flitted across his face. He blinked. “What did you just say?”

“I said . . .” I moved my hand between us and cupped the bulge that was tenting his jeans. “Yes.”

Until next week!

Don't forget to check the other authors taking part:

Lily Sawyer     m/m 
MC Houle     m/m
Elyzabeth VaLey      m/f
Michael Mandrake     m/m
Cia Nordwell    m/m
Elizabeth Morgan    m/f
Tali Spencer     m/m
Julie Lynn Hayes  m/m

Victoria Adams   m/f

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