Home > Truth or Dare (His Wicked Games #2)(3)

Truth or Dare (His Wicked Games #2)(3)
Author: Ember Casey

“Martin will be disappointed if we’re late,” I remind him again.

“Fine. I’ll behave. But you better hurry, or I’ll ravish you anyway. And I don’t care who in this place knows it.”

I find my bag behind the door and grab it, not bothering to respond. I don’t want to give him any encouragement. Even the feeling of his gaze on me makes prickles dance across my skin, and I know it wouldn’t take much to break my resistance completely.

God, it’s just too easy for him, isn’t it?

I race down the hallway and lock myself in the bathroom. It takes me only about a minute to slip out of my button-down and pencil skirt and pull on the black dress I brought along. It’s sleek and sexy, but not too revealing—perfect for a first date.

It feels so strange, preparing for an actual date with Calder. I mean, my primary acquaintance with this man stems from those passionate, erotic days I spent with him on his former estate. That whole weekend still feels like a very strange but vivid sexual dream—I mean, we played hide and go seek, for God’s sake—and I can’t quite reconcile that experience with my normal everyday life.

I put on my heels next, and then I pull my hair out of its ponytail while I scrabble for my cosmetics bag. I’m suddenly nervous, and an anxious lump settles in my belly as I shake my waves of hair out around my shoulders. What will Calder think of me, now that the erotic fairy tale is over? When I’m not a desperate prisoner, and he no longer has the world at his feet? When we’re just two ordinary people eating dinner?

I force myself to take a deep breath as I give myself a final once-over in the mirror.

Everything’s going to be fine, I tell myself. I’m going to have an amazing time tonight.

I grab my things from the floor and hurry back to my office.

Calder is no longer hiding behind the desk.

“What are you doing?” I say, looking nervously down the hall. “What if my dad walked by?”

He’s standing at my wall, looking at my pictures. At the end of every instructional cycle, we take photos of each of the art classes. I’ve taught more than a few classes during my time here, and I keep every picture.

“I didn’t realize you worked with the kids,” Calder says, still staring at the images.

“I do a little bit of everything around here. At a place as small as this, you learn to wear more than a few hats.”

He nods, frowning a little. I wonder what he’s thinking—whether he’s remembering his own part in the Frazer Center’s troubles. But not his part—his father’s part. It’s not Calder’s fault that he inherited financial troubles.

I walk over and place my hand gently on his arm. The touch seems to bring him back to the present, and the clouds disappear from his expression. He turns to me, and he opens his mouth to speak, but then his eyes widen slightly. His gaze drifts down my body.

“You,” he says, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips, “are absolutely breathtaking.”

I’m blushing again. I try to tug my hand away, but he holds it tight. He flicks his tongue across the tips of my fingers, and heat rushes between my legs.

“I thought of your punishment,” he says.

“Punishment?”

“For forgetting our date.” He holds out his hand. “Your panties, please.” in the first place" aid="lp

I raise my eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I think it’s a suitable request, considering the emotional distress you put me through.”

“Yeah, you seem very distressed,” I tease. But I don’t object when he reaches out and pulls up the ends of my dress.

“Go on, then,” he says.

I cast a quick glance back at the door before grabbing my panties and pushing them down. Calder gives my bareness an appreciative glance before dropping my dress, and I reach down and grab the garment that has pooled aroun="margin:0.00d my ankles.

At least I had the foresight to wear a sexy pair. They’re black and lacy, and Calder seems all too pleased when I hand them over.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice low and husky. “I’ll take good care of them for you.”

“And what am I supposed to do? What if I get cold?”

He looks as if he’s about to devour me whole. “Then I’ll just have to take care of that for you, won’t I?”

He slips the panties into his pocket, and I press my thighs together. I’m already experiencing the effect he desired, but I can’t let things get out of hand.

“Dinner,” I remind him.

“Of course.”

I lead him to the door, taking care to glance around for Dad before slipping out into the hallway. I feel extra scandalous without any underwear, but I can’t let that distract me. We need to get out of here unnoticed.

We’re almost to the front door—almost free—when I hear a small gasp to my left. Morgan, one of our new teachers, stands at the door to her classroom, gaping at us.

Well, gaping at Calder, more accurately. He has that effect sometimes.

Morgan blinks, then squints. I imagine she’s trying to figure out how and why she recognizes the gorgeous man standing in our lobby. She wasn’t here last year to meet Calder the one time he visited the Center with his father, but she’s probably seen his face on the tabloids more than a couple of times.

But as much as I’d love to indulge her curiosity, Dad’s sure to spot us if we linger here too long.

“We’re late for dinner,” I tell her. “But I’ll talk to you in the morning?”

Morgan’s eyes flick to me, and she nods. The promise of an explanation tomorrow seems to satisfy her for the moment. I make another dash for the door with Calder in tow, but I pause at the threshold, glancing back.

“Do me a favor and keep this from my dad?”

Her eyes widen in surprise, but she breaks into a smile.

“I get it,” she says, winking. “Your secret’s safe. You two have fun.” Her voice rises suggestively on the last word, and I feel myself blushing once more as Calder and I escape outside.

“Can she keep a secret?” Calder asks, slipping a hand onto my lower back and guiding me across the parking lot. “Or should I expect a murder attempt by your father in the middle of the night?”

“He won’t murder you.”

“Ah, good.”

“He’s more of the torturing type.”

He grins in response, but I detect a hint of worry behind his amusement.

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