Tanya Michaels - If She Dares

After she’d confided in him in the elevator, maybe it was only fair he admitted to some of his own anxieties. “I stayed after school one day for art club, and when I left, it was already getting dark out. There was a black dog in the road, difficult to see, and a car clipped it. The driver sped away without stopping, so I ran to help it.”

“You helped it even though you were already scared of dogs?”

“Who admitted to being scared?” He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “I believe the word I used was uncomfortable . And I acted instinctively, not stopping to think it through. If I had taken a moment, I might’ve realized that when you rush an injured dog who doesn’t know you, you’re going to get bitten.”

She winced sympathetically. “Was it bad?”

“Not so bad that the art teacher couldn’t patch me up. He came to my rescue and then took the dog to a vet. I followed his example today and consulted a vet on what to feed fuzz-bucket. Juliet said bland chicken and rice were good choices.”

“Juliet?” Riley lowered her gaze to the puppy. “Is she, um, your girlfriend?”

Was that her way of asking if he was single? He grinned. “Hardly. Juliet’s married to one of my police buddies. I’m not seeing anyone.” Honesty prompted him to add, “Which is the way I prefer it. I broke up with someone not long ago, and I’m enjoying the drama-free life. I’m not...cut out for romance. Some of my happily married friends can’t seem to grasp that.”

Rather than treat him like a commitment-phobe who “just needed to meet the right woman,” Riley nodded. “I keep telling my mom I’m not in a place where I want to be dating, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to fix me up. I think because I’m the oldest, she—” The puppy in her arms wriggled, drawing her attention. “This one needs a chance to run around. I should get her to my place, in case there are any chewing incidents or other mishaps. We’ve imposed on you enough.”

“It wasn’t a hardship.” To prove his point, he ran his hand over the puppy’s head. “Does she have a name?”

“Maybe, but I don’t know what it is. I found her at a crosswalk this afternoon. I figure I’ll go back with pictures and see if I can track down her owner.”

“And if not?”

“No idea. My sister and her husband occasionally debate whether they’re ready to be parents. Maybe they could start with a dog. Or...” She sighed wistfully.

“You’d keep her in a heartbeat, wouldn’t you?”

“I can’t. Therefore, naming her would be a mistake.”

“Do you have anything to feed her? I can send that leftover chicken with you.” He smirked. “Pack a doggie bag, as it were. See—you’re not the only one who can make lame puns.”

“I’d appreciate having something to feed her. I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. I don’t know what to do about a leash, either. Guess I’ll lay some newspaper down in my bathroom and let her run around while I take a shower.”

First the cuddling, and now accompanying Riley to the shower? That was one lucky damn pooch.

He swallowed. “Well, if you do decide to keep the fuzz-bucket—”

“I can’t,” she repeated.

And yet, he had a strong suspicion she wasn’t going to let that stop her. “Understood. But just in case...” He grabbed a piece of junk mail off the stack on the counter and wrote Juliet’s name and number on the back of the envelope. “Here’s Dr. Burke’s information. I think the veterinary clinic where she works is pretty close.”

“Thanks. In the meantime, I trust that if you hear odd noises coming from my apartment, you won’t report me?”

“Report you? I’m the one who smuggled in the contraband canine, remember?”

“Thanks for being my partner in crime.” Her lips curved in a smile so joyously naughty that a bolt of heat went through him.

If she hadn’t been holding the fuzz-bucket, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to stop himself from reaching for her. It was the only time in his life Jack had ever felt grateful to a dog.

* * *

RAIN WAS POUNDING on the windows, and Riley woke with her heart in her throat. She sat straight up in bed, knowing she’d heard a noise inside the apartment. Knowing that danger was close. Oh, God. He’s back .

A remote corner of her mind recognized this was only a dream, yet that didn’t quell the fear. Dread crowded out logic. Panic told her to hide, even though the faceless man could find her anywhere in her apartment. He always did.

So escape the apartment! If she ran as fast as she could, sprinted out of here, maybe she could break the cycle. Maybe she could find help. She was paralyzed, could barely move despite the instincts screaming at her, but she fought with every drop of willpower in her system. She swung her feet to the floor. As soon as her bare toes met the hardwood, she lurched forward, rushing blindly through her room, through an inexplicable maze of rooms, out her front door.

Elation pumped through her. She wasn’t trapped. She wasn’t cornered and defenseless.

Once she reached the safety of the hallway, she slammed her door shut, lightheaded with relief. If dreams were bound by logic, she should worry that any intruder in the apartment could easily catch up to her here in the hallway. But the fact that she’d been able to safely cross the threshold gave her confidence; the closed door wasn’t just a slab of wood, it was freedom, and she laughed out loud.

I did it!

A moment later the door across the hall opened, and her subconscious rewarded her burgeoning courage with Jack Reed in only a pair of black shorts. Her throat went dry at the sight of his chest and toned arms. It wasn’t until she saw him that she noticed what she was wearing—a lacy blue chemise that looked nothing like the oversize T-shirts she normally wore to bed.

Jack’s gaze traveled over her in slow, appreciative perusal that made her skin tingle. “Thought I heard someone out here.”

“I was on my way to your place. I...” Inspiration seized her. There were no repercussions in fantasies, only wanton pleasure. “I wondered if I could take you up on that offer to practice strip poker.”

Reaching forward, he took her hand and led her into his apartment. “With as little as either of us are wearing? This could be a very short game.” He slid his fingers beneath the straps holding up her nightgown, his touch a tantalizing rasp against her skin. His smile was wicked. “You already admitted you aren’t good at poker, so let’s assume I won.” With one fierce tug, he stripped her bare.

She crooked a thumb in the elastic of his shorts. “Let’s assume it was a tie.” The shorts didn’t slide down as easily, impeded by a sizable erection, but a moment later they were both naked.

Need thrummed through her. It had been so agonizingly long since she’d felt like this, since a man had touched her. She rose up on tiptoe, and he met her halfway, tracing her lips, licking his tongue into her mouth, stoking the fire that raged through her. She gloried in letting that need burn out of control, desperate to go up in flames with Jack.

His hands dropped from her waist to brush over the curves of her ass, kneading, pulling her tighter against his body. She moaned at the steely heat of him, pressed so close to where she wanted him to be. Between kisses, he walked them backward, grabbing a blanket from his couch and tossing it to the ground. Then he was lowering her to the floor. He palmed one breast, his eyes locked on hers. “Tell me what you like.”

You . She was too aroused to think in specifics or form words. Instead, she tried to show him how much she liked his touch by arching into his hand, pleasure rocking through her when he rubbed his thumb over a hardened nipple. The nerves there tightened even further, and she felt every pluck of his fingers straight to her core. He turned his head to her other breast, kissing a line across the slope to the aching peak. Then her entire existence was hot suction and the sensual scrape of teeth and her own mindless gyrations as her body moved of its own accord. His mouth was still at her nipple when he thrust into her, and she clenched around him.