Читать книгу Does She Dare? - Tawny Weber - Страница 6

Ten Years Before

“WE DARE YOU TO KISS the baddest boy at Western High,” Suzi said, wicked glee coating her words.

Isabel Santos dug her heels into the grass to keep herself from running away. Kiss some strange boy, and a bad one at that? Were they crazy? What the hell had she been thinking?

“You want to play with the big girls,” Suzi continued, “you’ve got to prove you’ve got what it takes.”

“That’s the rule,” Isabel’s best friend, Audra, explained in a soft, slightly apologetic tone. “If you hang with the Wicked Chicks, you have to prove you can handle it by taking a dare.”

Isabel shot her a look that said duh. But inside she was shaking. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to be a Wicked Chick. It was more that Audra was in the club. And Isabel felt left out. Thanks to uptight, overprotective parents, Isabel now attended an all-girls private school and hardly ever saw her friend anymore. Lately, all Audra talked about was the Chicks and what they’d done, or who they’d done. Wild times, apparently. Not that Isabel was the wild type; she really was more content daydreaming than partying and chasing boys. But she wanted to belong. So she’d lied to her parents—told them she was spending the night at a friend’s since they didn’t approve of Audra anymore—and snuck out.

“I can handle a dare,” she vowed with a lift of her chin. She tried to push out her chest, too, but that was just depressing. The Chicks were all busty, definitely way ahead of her in the development department, as proven by the boobs overflowing their low-cut tops. When she made it into the club, she’d have to get a new bra.

She looked around the party. The moonlit backyard was filled with bodies gyrating to the bubblegum beat of pop music blasting from someone’s boom box.

Her eyes stuck on the guy in chains and leather with greasy hair and a mean look. He looked bad, all right, as in smelly bad. Could she do this? She swallowed and pulled back her shoulders. Yes, she could. She was sixteen, not six. She’d planned it all out. If she wanted to hang out with her best friend more often, she’d have to be a part of the club. She pressed a hand against her churning stomach. Even if it meant kissing smelly guys.

“Who’s the baddest boy?” she asked.

“Dante Luciano,” Audra, Suzi and the third Chick, Bea, declared in chorus.

Her churning stomach almost jumped out of her throat. Oh no. She shook her head. Not Dante Luciano. They even talked about him at her school. Usually in whispers, of course.

She’d heard he was hell on wheels. He’d done more girls and drank more booze than a rock star. Everything from vandalism to public brawls. If he was even half as bad as his reputation, she was better off with the stinky guy.

“He’s the dare,” Bea insisted. Her red pigtails waved in concert with her adamant nod. The pigtails went with the naughty-schoolgirl outfit, Isabel supposed. “Being wicked isn’t just being wild, it’s being brave. Attitude is everything, you know.”

“I don’t even know what he looks like,” she answered in a faint voice. Like it mattered. She’d made a plan, she was sticking with it. She could hold her breath for the thirty seconds it would take to kiss and run.

Audra pointed across the lawn to a group of guys doing keg stands. “The one in jeans and black T-shirt.”

Her heart did jumping jacks. She’d never seen anything—anyone—so beautiful.

“Wow,” she gasped.

Suzi and Bea laughed.

Tall and leanly muscled, he had a body like one of the Greek gods she’d studied. His black hair curled over his forehead, falling in loose waves to his shoulders. She’d only known boys. Dante was very obviously a man. Her eyes traced the wide set of his tanned biceps—rumor had it from working construction after school for his father. What would it feel like to touch him? To feel that smooth skin under her fingers? Her breath caught at the image.

She’d never understood the fuss over sex. Sure, guys were cute, some really cute. But to want to rub her hands all over one? To want to press her lips to his shoulder just to taste his skin? Until this moment, she’d had no clue. But now? She wanted to do some fussing herself.

She had no clue what she’d say to him. How did they think she could kiss him? What was she supposed to do? Isabel’s vision wavered as fear nipped at the edges of her awareness. Did she introduce herself and ask for a kiss? Just walk up and plant one on him? Did he have to kiss her back? Questions raced at a frantic pace through her head.

She shot Audra a panicked look, but her friend just shrugged. A look of worry, combined with doubt, lurked in the other girl’s heavily lined eyes.

“You don’t have to take the dare,” Audra murmured.

If she wanted to be in their club, she did. She eyed Dante again, odd sensations zinging around in a wild, tempting dance in her belly. She really did want to kiss him. Suddenly, the dare was simply an excuse.

With a quick squeeze of Audra’s hand, she made her way across the lawn. Moonlight flicked in and out of the trees, adding to the surreal feeling inside her.

She had no idea what to do. Her brain was on autopilot. Even the questions and panic were gone now; all she knew was she had to kiss Dante Luciano. She started to move forward, but another guy stepped between them.

“Dude, you’re out of booze.”

Dante slipped his hand into the front pocket of his jeans. Moonlight sparked off the small metal key. “Here, hit my dad’s liquor cabinet. He’s got plenty.”

With a start, Isabel realized this was Dante’s house. Her breath hitched. He really was bad.

“Real nice of your dad to share.” His buddy grinned.

“Right. Like he shared his truck,” Dante said with a smirk. “You gotta help me get it out of that ditch tomorrow.”

Even his voice was sexy. Low, husky and filled with what she imagined sin sounded like. Dante Luciano had the worst reputation in the county. Even Audra, who was a known hell-raiser herself, was in awe of how much trouble he stirred up.

“Looks like someone’s waiting for you,” the guy said, his laugh a little mean this time. It took Isabel a few seconds to realize he meant her. At their stares, her cheeks flamed and she would have turned away except the look on Dante’s face had her rooted in place. She barely noticed his friend snicker and stalk off.

“Hey there,” Dante said with a slow grin. The world ground to a slow halt around her.

“Hi,” Isabel squeaked after a few gulps. Her heart raced so fast, she worried it was going to fly out of her chest. When he beckoned her closer, she tamped down a hysterical giggle and stepped forward until she was near enough, for the first time, to stare into his eyes. They were vivid green, like the emeralds in her mother’s anniversary band.

Maybe his gaze was cloudy with an alcohol haze and he was swaying more than the trees, but Isabel didn’t care. If only she could think of something to say.

He reached out and flicked one of her curls, then let his finger trace over her shoulder. Isabel’s nipples hardened. Something intense, damp and sticky, tightened deep in her belly. She didn’t know what was going on inside her body, but it felt good. In a scary, confusing kind of way. What should she do? Should she touch him? Should she say something? Her mind, already fogged with nerves, shut down at his touch.

Which was fine with her body. It had plenty going on.

“As the host of this little get-together,” he said, his hand now tangled in her hair, “it’s my duty to welcome you to the party. My momma insists I be polite, you know.”

His idea of welcome was friendlier than a handshake, Isabel realized, when, with his hand still in her hair, he pulled her against his body.

Her gasp was lost in his mouth. Her hands curled into the smooth delight of his chest as he took advantage of her shock to slip his tongue between her lips. Terrified pleasure filled her. Romantic notions of love-at-first-kiss filled her head, tangled with the incomplete images of dark, forbidden touches.

She’d been kissed before, but never like this. Dante’s mouth was pure magic. Soft and sweet, his tongue danced along hers. Something wild, something intense coiled low in her belly. Isabel shifted, trying to find relief, trying to figure out what to do about the power of the feeling.

When his hand cupped her breast, she gasped. Not able to help herself, she pulled back.

He laughed. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?”

“That’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked, her tone as soft as the night air. She’d screwed up. Ruined it. Tears filled her eyes as emotions she didn’t understand gripped her.

He flashed a half-smile, then brushed his finger over the strap of her tank top. “It’s not bad. I’ll bet you taste as sweet as you look…everywhere. Like a ripe, fresh-picked peach.”

The image of his mouth on her—licking, tasting—stopped Isabel’s breath. Like the scariest ride at the amusement park, she wanted to try it. But at the same time she was terrified. Torn between desire and fear, she stared up at him.

“Dante?”

They both glanced at the redhead standing to the side. Her heavily made-up eyes slid over Isabel in instant dismissal.

“Dance?” she said to Dante, her hand tracing down her throat, over her plump breast, then to her hip.

“Sweet,” Dante repeated, giving Isabel a look so hot, she swore she felt her heart melt. He leaned forward again to brush a soft kiss over her cheek. “But I don’t do good girls.”

A minute later, Isabel blinked back the tears as Dante swayed to “As Long As You Love Me,” with the redhead wrapped around him like plastic wrap. From the looks of her, that girl would definitely know how to handle Dante. When the girl’s hand slid down the back of his jeans, Isabel clenched her jaw and turned away. She couldn’t watch.

She scanned the couples curled up on loungers or lying together on the lawn. She wanted to—had to—get out of there, but she didn’t see Audra. She hurried inside. As she reached the door, a kid ran through, almost knocking her on her butt.

“Parents! Cops!” he yelled. “Run.”

Panic seized her. Couples shot apart and flew left and right. Cops? Oh, shit.

A half hour later, she sat in the Luciano’s living room, listening to the policeman lecture her and the dozen other kids who hadn’t escaped into the woods. This was definitely bad.

Her parents were going to kill her. And worse, be disappointed. She’d never let them down, never given them a single reason to lecture her. Panic flitted, inky black, at the edges of her awareness. The only thing keeping Isabel from sobbing was the fear that if she did, she’d throw up.

Dammit, what had she gotten herself into? She didn’t belong here. Her response to Dante proved that. She was just a kid, definitely not ready for the big leagues. Suzi leaned over and nudged her. Apparently, Audra had managed to escape, just like Dante and most of the others.

“Hey, I’d say you made it. Busted like a Wicked Chick, huh?” From the grin on Suzi’s face, she wasn’t afraid. Unlike Isabel, who was sure this was her last night on earth.

With a weak smile, Isabel slid down the worn fabric of the couch. Maybe she should have planned this better. Blinking back tears she realized she didn’t want to be wicked. The only thing she wanted now was Dante Luciano.