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JOSEPH’S LAUGHTER ERUPTED and he clapped in his excitement. “Perfect. This I gotta see.”
I take back what I said before. There was not enough alcohol in the world for me to do this. Asking him to reveal the photos in his album suddenly didn’t sound like a walk on the wild side.
“Come on, Sutherland. Strike a pose.”
I bit my lip. “I think we need a new rule.”
Joseph tilted his head to the side. “What’s wrong? You having a hard time with this one? It’s only the first block. I’ve never played the game before, but I imagine they don’t get easier.”
I’ve never played the game either. I only heard about it from my college days, but no one ever mentioned just how personal the dares could get. I figured they’d be physical challenges or tasks of a comedic nature. Weren’t the truths supposed to be of the intimate sort?
“I can’t do this one,” I exclaimed, flipping the block in his lap. “You win.”
Joseph picked up the block and reread it to himself. “Fair enough. This one is pretty personal and given we just started playing, I think we should add a rule. Each player has the ability to forfeit a truth or dare of his or her choosing without getting docked for it.” He held the block out to me. When I reached for it, he tightened his grip on it and didn’t let go. “Is this the one you’re forfeiting?”
“Yes, definitely,” I affirmed.
“All right, so what do we do with it?”
I took the block from him. “We add it to the top. Your turn.”
I watched as Joseph selected and glided his block free with ease. With an air of haughtiness, which was ever so sexy, he rolled the game piece in his palm until the words appeared. He read it to himself, glancing at me, and then back to the block.
“It’s a truth,” he confessed. “Describe your worst kiss.” He thought for a few minutes and came clean. “I suppose that would have to be with Irene Jacobson.”
I was hoping it was with Caroline because that would certainly put my mind at ease if she ever came around again. And I knew she would one day. Contagious diseases always had a tendency to reappear once they were in your system.
“It was back when I was a junior in high school. Irene was a little...how do I put this nicely...a little malnourished. And she was the only senior from her class that didn’t have a date for the prom.”
I listened intently as Joseph continued his story.
“I guess being raised with all sisters, I sympathized with the whole female thing about how important it is to have a date for the senior prom. I hadn’t asked anyone yet, and I figured I’d make her dreams come true. So, I asked her and she accepted. I think she might have even peed her pants a little that day. Or so the rumors had said. Fast-forward to the evening, I met her folks and she came staggering down the stairs in her frilly, puffy, lacey dress. I didn’t think much of it because she wasn’t exactly the most graceful girl in school and chalked her unsteadiness up to nerves.
“We arrive at the prom. We dance. She jets off to the bathroom. We talk. She disappears again to the bathroom. This happens all night long, but again, I don’t think much of it. I’m just a naive teenager. Hours later, I’m standing on her porch saying goodnight, never thinking that all her stumbling or hiccupping throughout the entire night was due to her sneaking shots of vodka from a flask in her purse. I thought I’d be a gentleman and end the evening with a nice, peck on the cheek.”
I could already tell this story was about to head south real quick. A smirk started to inch up on my lips before I could stop it.
“I bent to kiss her and she lunged forward, locking her lips with mine. At first I was stunned, but then as the kiss wore on, it wasn’t so bad. Until...”
“Oh no,” I murmured, my face puckering at the thought of what the lush did next.
“Yep. She threw up in my mouth.”
I didn’t mean to laugh, but it was so disgusting I couldn’t stop myself. “What did you do?”
“What do you think?” Joseph said, laughing right with me. “I ran off the porch and vomited too. Her father came outside, hearing all the commotion and after he saw the two of us puking our guts out, he accused me of getting his little girl drunk so I could take advantage of her. As if...” he waved.
“What did you say to her father?”
“I took one look at that poor girl, knowing the humiliation she felt was enough to kill her, not counting that she’d have to confess to confiscating a bottle from her parent’s stash on prom night. So I went ahead and took the blame.”
My laughter died slowly and I looked at Joseph with budding admiration. “That was really sweet of you.”
“Whatever. It sure taught me a lesson, if nothing else.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“Never listen to my sisters.” He jumped up from the couch and headed toward the fridge for another beer, probably to wash the seventeen year-old memory of vomit from his mouth. Upon returning, he chugged a couple swallows and plopped his block on the top. “Your turn, Sutherland.”
I turned my attention to the tower and plucked one from the bottom middle, hoping this one would be an easy play. I read it and my head fell back on my shoulders. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Joseph held his beer bottle to his lips. “What’s your doom now?”
“Blow a raspberry on someone’s tummy.”
He set his beer down on the coffee table and yanked up his shirt, revealing a luscious rippled plane of rock-hard abs. “Pucker up, Buttercup.”
Maybe it was the two shots of courage I’d downed moments ago, but for some reason I wasn’t nervous about planting my lips on Joseph’s flat stomach and blowing to my heart’s content. In fact, I don’t think wild horses could’ve stopped me.
I leaned over, bracing my hands on his thighs—my, my, they were warm from beneath his jeans—and I pressed my lips just above his cute little navel. I giggled at first, failing to make a good connection.
“Do over,” he said, his muscles tensing. “Come on, Sutherland. You can do it.”
Drawing from his encouragement, I tried again, this time crushing my mouth to his smooth, warm skin. I took in a deep breath and blew for all I was worth. The silly sound we both longed to hear erupted like someone passing gas, and we laughed until we cried.
He high-fived me, and I sat back on his couch. Between the alcohol, embarrassment, and hysterical laughter, I felt hot and triumphant at the same time. I fanned my shirt to stir some much needed air against my clammy skin.
Joseph rubbed his jaw, looking at me oddly. “My turn.”
I gestured toward the tower. “Good luck, Giggles.”
“Nah,” he said, slanting toward me. “I don’t mean it’s my turn to play. I mean it’s my turn to blow a raspberry.”
I looked at him, hoping he was only joking. But the second he leaned toward me, I scooted further along the length of the couch. He followed my movements until I hit the armrest and had nowhere to go. Joseph braced his arms on either side of my body, trapping me in a semi-reclining position. I pushed on his shoulders as he threatened to lower his mouth to my stomach. “Joseph, that’s not how you play. You can’t steal an opponent’s dare.”
“Who says I can’t?”
“It’s in the rules,” I bartered emphatically.
“I let you make up a rule on the fly. So here’s mine.”
His arms flexed and he lowered himself along my lap. “Joseph....” I tried to sound stern, but the rest of the words failed me. I stared at him as he nudged my sweater up with his nose. Chills ransacked my body, followed by another wave of heat, as I contended with the erotic image of his handsome face at my navel.
I felt like a scared cat, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. I lay tense and trembling, my eyes glued to him as he gazed at my bare stomach. A sea of dazzling blue flashed before me as he looked up from his sprawled position. His sexy, devious smile replaced his boy-next-door grin, and I knew I was in serious trouble.
I tried to speak one last warning, but his name came out in the most strangled fashion. Barely a whisper. He held my gaze as his mouth pressed ever so tenderly upon my flesh. The scruff of his beard prickled me, while his warm, steady breath caressed my skin.
I felt him draw air. It was so slow and so deep that I wondered if he was inflating his lungs or relishing the scent of my skin. Without warning, he sank into the softness of my tummy. Ridiculously ticklish vibrations assaulted me as he blew. I squirmed, and yelled, and giggled, and squirmed some more, trying for all I was worth to push him off me.
“Joseph, Joseph, please! I can’t take it any—” My useless pleading was cut short by my silent, stomach cramping, heaves of laughter. We writhed and thrashed upon his couch until he finally withdrew his face.
I lay panting in a heap of exhaustion, my eyes closed. When I opened them, I found Joseph looking at me, his face inches from mine. His hair was a tousled, darling mess. His chiseled face was edgy and serious. His eyes grew dark as our breathing settled one ragged breath at a time. I fell entranced by his silent stare. The look of unadulterated desire in his eyes mixed with the lingering scent of cologne and Joseph played havoc with my senses.
I swallowed. Hard. I brought my hands up and cupped his face, unable to look away from the beautiful sight that lay upon me. I could feel myself shaking and I didn’t know if I had the guts to initiate what my body craved to do with this man.
I closed my eyes and went in blindly. Our lips met and every muscle in my body relaxed. My heart melted as I felt the heat of his kiss. Passion ran amuck the minute his tongue touched mine and together our bodies entangled like balled-up yarn. On their own volition, my legs wrapped around his back and I pulled myself closer to him. The weight of his body pressed me further into the leather cushions. I was tingling all over and only Joseph could remedy my yearning.
Suddenly, he pulled away, winded and red-faced. His eyes bore into mine as he seemed to struggle with something. I could almost hear his thoughts churning. Should he continue? Should he stop? Should he get up and slam his erection in a door?
“Joseph,” I whispered, wanting to alleviate the ethical questions running through his mind. “I think we need a new rule.”
He cleared his throat, taken aback. “Another one?”
“Yes.” I played with the soft hair on his nape as I tried to find the right words. “I think you and I should stop fighting the inevitable.”
“The inevitable being?”
Dang him. Was he really going to make me spell it out? “Being that I want you to—”
He pressed his finger to my lips and silenced me. “Don’t say it,” he commanded huskily.
“Why?”
I saw his throat bob as he swallowed. “Because I don’t want to.” He squeezed his eyes shut and recanted. “I mean, I want to. Like, really want to. But I can’t do that to you.”
“Do what?”
He sighed. “Take advantage of you.”
“But you’re not. I want this.” I think. Well, ninety-five percent of me wanted this. The other five percent was my wary heart. Majority rules, right? “I’m giving you full consent, Joseph.”
His face softened and he smiled. He stroked my cheek ever so tenderly with the back of his hand as he looked at my entire face. My eyes, my lips, my nose, my eyes again. “And you have no idea how much that means to me,” he whispered. “But you’ve had a couple shots. Your inhibitions are gone. I refuse to take advantage of that fact.”
My heart plummeted, though I believe with relief rather than disenchantment. The rest of me fell limp beneath him. While I totally gave this man kudos for adhering to the gentleman’s code, I was still left disappointed. Combine that with my pessimistic mind and I couldn’t help but think perhaps he didn’t want me like I wanted him.
“Jamie, please don’t think I don’t want you. You have no idea how hard this is for me to turn down your offer. It’s killing me. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.” He emphasized his point by crushing his lips to mine and breathing me in. “But,” he exhaled, “the last thing I want is for you to wake up tomorrow morning and regret what we’ve done. I don’t want you to have one single doubt in your mind. And I know you. You have doubts that number like the stars.”
A guilt-ridden smile eased upon my lips. He was right. I probably would second guess the night and what had happened. I’d relive it over and over in my head, wondering if I’d made the right call. Wondering if those two little shots of courage had anything to do with it. Wondering if Joseph accepted because he knew I was under the influence and this might be his only chance.
Yeah, he was right. It seemed he knew me better than I knew myself. But still the fact remained. I was disappointed and embarrassed and unsure what to even say now. I felt I’d ruined a perfectly good night.
“I’m sorry I came on to you like that,” I said, sitting up.
Joseph followed my lead and leaned back into the couch, stretching his legs. He pulled mine across his lap and toyed with the zipper on my knee-high boots. “You don’t have to be sorry. I enjoyed it. A little too much, I’m afraid.”
I smiled at his admission. “Now what?”
He glanced over at the tower of red blocks. “We could continue to play....”
“Or?”
“Or call it a night. You know we both have to work in the morning.”
After all that had happened, I was pretty tired. “I guess we should call it a night.”
Joseph fetched my hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “Not just any night. But one of the best nights of my life.” He paused. “You know...I don’t think you have any idea how happy you’ve made me. Being with you has been so different and so...amazing. I’ve never had this much fun with a woman. With anyone. And I don’t ever want it to end. I like believing you and I have something special. Something I’ve never had before. You’re all I can think of. No matter what I’m doing. Your beautiful face is all I see, and it’s like sunshine. Warm sunshine.” He snapped his fingers. “I think I just wrote a song.”
I giggled, letting the warmth of his hand and sweet words caress my soul. As I sat with my legs across his lap, my thoughts were as clear as crystal. I knew I said it before, but some things bear repeating.
I was wholeheartedly, absolutely, without a doubt in love with Joseph Alexander Scarbrough.
