trustanddare_GEN

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Trust and Dare

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Preview another book by this author

  Note from Shelli

  eBooks by Shelli Stevens

  Shelli recommends … Sami Lee

  Excerpt

  Abby blinked in surprise. He was offering her refreshments? Not demanding that she get naked and meet him in the bedroom? It was as if he was just pleased she was here with him, sex or no sex. After that scene in the field, it kind of shocked her.

  The memory of what had happened not even an hour ago had her heart thudding faster and heat moving throughout her body again. Food, Abby, he’s asking if you want food.

  “I am a little hungry,” she admitted. “Before I…did the prank, I was out with some friends.”

  He opened the fridge. “Ah, what were you girls up to? Clubbing?”

  She gave a slight smile. “There’s a place we like to go dancing every now and then. But I actually prefer a night at The Lounge, watching a good jazz act. Grinding on the dance floor with some sweaty guy who’s trying to get into my pants has never really appealed to me.”

  “I hear ya.”

  “What,” Abby laughed and glanced at him through her lashes. “You’re not into grinding with men on the dance floor?”

  His laughter mixed with hers. “Can’t say that I’ve tried it. But I’m not big on the whole club scene either. There was a time when it was all I did—that’d be my first four years in the service.”

  The reminder that he was in the military sent a slow tension coiling through her body. “How long…have you been in?”

  “Ten years. I joined after I finished college.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “I’m impressed. Most people join to get help with college. You joined after?”

  He nodded, pulling a brick of cheese from the fridge and then a bottle of wine. “Three generations of the men in my family have all joined. I grew up knowing I’d join up someday. I just decided to put college first—I got a full ride on a football scholarship.”

  Now why didn’t that surprise her? Abby ran her gaze over his shoulders again and bit her lip to keep from sighing.

  “So you’re career military?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her stomach sank a little. What, were you hoping he’d only be in for a short stint so you could justify getting serious with him? Dream on, Abby. You know what you’re getting into this weekend. Don’t get attached.

  Mason held up the bottle of wine. “Do you like cheese? And is red wine okay?”

  She smiled, forcing away the cloud of reality that threatened their intimate moment. “I’m addicted to cheese, and you score points on the red wine. Actually, I finish each day with a glass of red wine and a square of dark chocolate.”

  “Nice. I can do the wine, but I don’t keep any chocolate in the house.” He winked and began to slice the cheese.

  Abby watched his hands, big with long thick fingers, slicing the cheese with quick strokes. When he’d laid out a good amount of slices, he reached into the cupboard and pulled out a loaf of bread. He made quick time cutting chunks of the dark rye and then arranging them next to the cheese.

  “Man, you’re kind of good at that,” she murmured.

  “That’s another thing about my family. We like to cook.” He set the plate on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Dig in. I’ll pour you some wine.”

  “Thank you.” She snagged a piece of cheese and took a bite just as her stomach growled. Wincing, she looked up to see if he’d heard, but he was busy filling her glass of wine. She really should’ve grabbed a snack after the club.

  “Is it good?” He handed her a glass of wine.

  “It’s really good.” She took a sip of wine, closing her eyes as the liquid warmed her body. “Mmm. Thank you, Mason.”

  The man had a certain class that she hadn’t expected. Then again, she’d never given him the chance to find out otherwise.

  “You’re welcome, Abby.”

  Trust and Dare

  Shelli Stevens

  Published 2018 by Book Boutiques.

  ISBN: 978-1-946363-86-2

  Copyright © 2018, Shelli Stevens.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Book Boutiques.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is wholly coincidental. The names, characters, dialogue, and events in this book are from the author’s imagination and should not to be construed as real.

  Manufactured in the USA.

  Email [email protected] with questions, or inquiries about Book Boutiques.

  Blurb

  One weekend. His rules. Inhibitions left at the door.

  Angry that yet another military man has done her family wrong, Abby Cook plots sweet revenge.

  But when her plan goes awry, she discovers that she’s targeted the wrong military man.

  Mason Tyler is not used to being disobeyed. Yet the curvy blonde has rejected his advances at every turn. When he catches her in the middle of a very destructive—not to mention illegal—prank, he offers her a deal. A deal that will keep her out of jail. And let him exact a little revenge of his own.

  One weekend in his bed…no inhibitions, no refusals. But when the weekend is up, will Mason be ready to let Abby go?

  Previously Published

  (2007) Samhain

  Dedication

  Thank you to Laurie M. Rauch for being a fabulous editor and friend, to Loribelle Hunt for being my source for military info, and to all my friends and family who continue to support me.

  Acknowledgements

  Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs, Tibbs Design

  Chapter 1

  The bastard deserved it.

  Abby Cook glanced around the dark parking lot of the apartment complex, and tightened her grip on the bottle of brake fluid.

  Her cousin Kelly was too sweet—more than content to drown her heartbreak in twelve boxes of tissue. But Abby had a different definition of healing, and the lousy piece of shit was going to get what was coming to him.

  Hot fury spread through her blood. Poor Kelly. What kind of man lied about being married while screwing around with a nineteen-year-old girl?

  The kind who’s going to wake up to a nasty little surprise.

  The whole situation was just another reason why she refused to date military men. She hadn’t been much older than Kelly when she’d gotten her own heart stomped on by one. Abby intended to make sure that this military man didn’t get off easy—nobody messed with her little cousin that badly and walked away.

  Crouching low, she ran through the parking lot until she found his black Ford truck. She glanced at the street lamps and then the side of the apartment building. Hopefully there weren’t any security cameras.

  She knelt beside the truck, trying in vain to pull her skirt back down over her thighs. Damn, she should’ve gone home and changed first. Brilliant idea, Abby. Go trash someone’s truck right after you get back from a night of dancing with the girls.

  She pulled a towel from the pocket of her skirt and opened the bottle of brake fluid. After rolling the towel into a cylinder, she saturated the tip with the fluid from the bottle and then turned back to the truck.

  “Revenge is a bitc
h, buddy. And so am I.”

  Bringing the towel to the shiny paint on the obviously new vehicle, Abby started to write her message. After she finished, she stood and moved to the other side, dipping the towel again.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Abby’s head jerked up and she saw a man built like a linebacker running towards her. Oh crap!

  She jumped to her feet, kicking over the bottle of brake fluid in the process. No time to grab the evidence, just get the hell out of here!

  She ran hard, but her high heels and the thirty pounds she was trying to lose slowed her down. Her breath clogged tight in her throat and her pulse raced with fear.

  She glanced back over her shoulder. Shit! He was following her. Who was he? He definitely wasn’t Kelly’s ex.

  She veered to the left, crossing the street to a large empty field.

  “Oh, shit,” she wheezed. “I shouldn’t have stopped doing those Tae Bo videos.”

  Was he still behind her? She looked over her shoulder again. Damn! He was like six feet away! There was no way she could outrun him.

  She dug her heels into the ground and spun around. “Stop! I’ve got pepper spra—ooph!”

  He tackled her full out, throwing his arms around her and sending both of them flying to the grass. Lights flashed behind her closed eyes as she tried to get her breath back. He grabbed her wrists and forced them above her head as his muscular thighs straddled her ribcage.

  She struggled to free herself, but he had a grip like steel. Finally, she opened her eyes and met the furious chocolate gaze of the man holding her down.

  Oh, no. Not him! Her blood raced faster through her veins, but not because of the overexertion. Because of who was straddling her.

  He looked just as sexy now as he had every night she’d seen him at The Lounge. Each time he’d asked her out, and each time it had just about killed her to turn him down.

  And the way he was looking at her now… Heat spread throughout her body, tightening her nipples and pooling moisture into her panties.

  Please don’t let him recognize me. What would happen if he realized who she was? She wet her lips and swallowed hard.

  He blinked and lowered his head closer to hers. His brows drew together. “Oh my God, it’s you.” Shit!

  Chapter 2

  Mason Tyler shook his head at the woman beneath him. Christ, it was her. He drank her in—from her blonde hair fanned out on the grass, to the panicked brown eyes that were staring up at him with recognition and…something else. There was a heat in her gaze. A heat he wasn’t even sure he should be trying to analyze. Her body was pale, full and lush under him. The same voluptuous body he’d been wanting for over a month now.

  He’d seen her at The Jazz Lounge almost every Friday night for the past five weeks. Had watched her from afar, thinking she was the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. But he’d been hesitant to approach her, thought he didn’t stand a chance with such a sexy, confident-looking woman.

  When he’d finally convinced himself to give it a shot, she’d turned him down flat, even as he’d read the obvious interest in her gaze. Confused and challenged by her response, he’d continued to ask. Week after week. And each time she’d said no, with that tiny smile on her pert lips.

  And now here she was, lying on the grass underneath him. He’d finally caught her—under bizarre circumstances—and had her right where he wanted her. What had she been doing in that parking lot?

  He shifted, all too aware that his dick was pressed up against her large breasts. Breasts with round, hard nipples showing through her thin, blue tank top.

  “Look,” she squirmed underneath him, avoiding his gaze. “Can you get off me, please?”

  “Now why would I do that?” He smiled, starting to enjoy their positions. “I’ve been waiting a long time to get you on your back, baby.”

  Her mouth opened on a gasp. “Listen, buddy—”

  “I’m not your buddy,” he murmured. “You wouldn’t even give me your name, remember? And right about now, you’re lucky if I don’t call the police on your ass.”

  That last part had been a bluff, but it was a good way to keep her with him for a few minutes longer.

  “Oh! There’s no need for that. Look, I’m not sure what you think you saw.” She ran her tongue over her lips and the small gesture had him biting back a groan and his jeans fitting tighter. “But, umm, it’s not what it looked like. So, would you mind letting me up?”

  He shifted, trying to ease the discomfort of his throbbing dick pressed tight inside his jeans. “And what did it look like?”

  She struggled to free herself again, gave up, and then sighed. “I don’t know, what do you think it looked like?”

  He frowned. Good question. What had he seen? Whatever it was, it hadn’t looked legal. “It looked like you were dumping something from a bottle onto a towel and rubbing it on my truck.”

  “Oh. Well, then it is what it looked like. But it was no less than he—” Her eyes opened even wider. “Wait, did you just say your truck?”

  “Yeah, I did.” He cocked his head, his gut clenching. “What was on the towel?”

  Her head shook back and forth. “No. No. It can’t be your truck. Kelly said there’s only one black Ford truck at this complex.”

  “My truck’s dark blue.” So a case of mistaken truck identity. But what had she been doing to it?

  “Dark blue…? Oh, no. It’s night out and I must have mistaken…” She went limp underneath him, her head falling back onto the ground. “So that was your truck? Oh, God.”

  “What was on the towel, baby?” The tingling on the back of his neck warned him he wouldn’t like the answer.

  “Brake fluid.” Her voice was a little squeak, and about half the volume it had been a minute ago.

  His vision went red, his desire for her diminished slightly to make room for the sudden anger that ripped through him. Brake fluid? Did she realize what that did to the car? Stripped the paint and corroded the metal frame? Of course she realizes. That’s why she did it, dumb shit.

  He kept his voice deliberately calm as he asked, “You put brake fluid on my truck?”

  She nodded and bit her lip. “I didn’t think it was your truck when I was doing it.”

  “Yeah, I got that part. What did you do? Take the towel and wipe it over the door?” The door could be replaced. She’d pay for it, and God knows how long it’d take, but a door was fixable.

  “Umm, not exactly.” She took a deep breath and mumbled something about crabs.

  “What?”

  “I said that I wrote I have crabs on the side of your truck!” She lowered her gaze. “You caught me before I could finish the other side.”

  His mouth opened but no words came out. There was a rushing in his ears. The truck was two months old. And she’d just destroyed it. Destroyed it by writing the words I have crabs on the side.

  “I promise I can have it fixed, um…what’s your name?”

  “Now you want to know my name? Right after you defiled my damn truck?”

  She squirmed again, pulling her leg up and twisting their bodies until he slid down her body a little. Was she trying to flee again? Get away without being held accountable for her actions? No way was she leaving without him getting her number. But this time he wasn’t so much interested in a date, as making sure she fixed his truck.

  He adjusted his body so he could slide a knee between her legs, pushing her thighs apart as he transferred both her wrists to one hand. Her eyes widened.

  “There’s no reason we can’t handle this like friends, right?”

  “Friends? How can we be friends? You’ve never even given me your name and now you’ve trashed my truck.” He laughed, but not because he was amused. “Right now I can’t decide whether to convince you to come home with me, or have you arrested.”

  “Arrested? No. Don’t do that. Please don’t do that.” She squirmed under him, causing his knee to slide higher up between her legs and conn
ect with her silky panties.

  She inhaled sharply, froze, and closed her eyes. His blood pounded harder at the feel of moisture against his knee. He went rock hard and the breath hissed out from between his teeth. She wanted him. She could play the not interested card all she wanted at The Lounge, but when it came down to it, she wanted him.

  How many times had she refused to even give him her name? Had she stared hard at him across the jazz club while surrounded by her posse of friends?

  How many times had he gone to bed with some other woman while it was her face he saw behind closed eyes?

  “Were you serious about wanting me to go home with you?” Her words were husky.

  “Was I serious?” What was she getting at? He eased some of the weight off his arms, dipping his body closer to let her feel the evidence of his erection against her stomach. “What do you think?”

  Her mouth parted into an “O” and her eyes became hazy with desire. “I think…I think you would take me in this field if I let you.”

  His cock pressed hard against his jeans and the imagery of her words ran through his head. “You’re right, I would.”

  She closed her eyes, her breasts rising and falling with each of her trembling breaths. What was going on in that head of hers?

  “What if I said I’d spend a weekend with you? Let us get this—whatever it is between us—out of our system. Would you agree to keep this between us? This whole truck incident?”

  Time seemed to slow down as her words echoed in his head. Did she realize what she was offering? He was so close, so close to having her. To finally being able to touch her, taste her.

  He took a deep breath, inhaling her floral perfume while running his gaze over her body. She was dressed in a short skirt, tank top, and fuck-me-every-which-way heels.

  She’d obviously been dressed to go out.

  “You’d spend the weekend with me?” He moved his hand down towards the curve of her breast, holding her gaze to see if she’d freak out. She didn’t protest, but gave a soft moan and arched her back to push her breast fully into his hand.