Dare You to Run Read online

  It was like she’d never felt before.

  And there was one thing that burst inside her brain as she finished off that bowl. She was never, ever, going to be the stupid little chit she’d been before.

  Life was to be lived and she couldn’t wait to get down to it.

  * * *

  One week later …

  God he smelled good.

  Damascus just couldn’t seem to get close enough to Vitus Hale. At least it didn’t seem to be her problem alone. The SEAL watched her, not like Saxon or Dare Servant did—the way his eyes followed her was personal.

  And she loved it.

  “Shit,” he said as he pulled his mouth away from hers.

  She wanted to follow him and press her lips back against his to seal out any more words. She didn’t want to talk, she just wanted to be immersed in his embrace.

  “Damascus.” Vitus caught her nape and held her back. “We’ve got to talk about this.”

  She let out a little sigh and heard him scoff at the way her lower lip protruded. “All right.” She withdrew, her confidence restored by the look of raw rejection on his face as she did so.

  “Your father is going to object to anything between us.”

  “I’m twenty-three,” she answered. “Well past the age of consent.”

  He liked hearing that, but she watched as he held himself in check, sticking to his desire to have a conversation. It wasn’t what she craved, epically since the first night that he’d kissed her like he just couldn’t keep his hands off her. She sure as hell didn’t want him to start now.

  “You know what I mean. He’s a congressman. I’m not the sort of man he has planned for you.”

  Damascus reached up and grabbed his shirt, twisting the fabric in her fist and pulling him down to her level so she could kiss him. Vitus didn’t hold out very long against her onslaught, and he was kissing her back with all the hunger she’d come to expect from him. But she withdrew before it overwhelmed her.

  “If you want a little girl who checks with her daddy, I’m not the woman for you.”

  It was hard to say and even harder for her to step away from him, more like ripping herself away from the thing that made her feel more alive than she ever had.

  Vitus considered her for a long moment, drinking in the determination on her face. He saw her. Really saw who she was beneath all the layers of education and grooming her father had insisted she be encased in, right there, she was herself and she realized she wanted to get to know who she was and do so with the man who had made her realize she was moving through her life half asleep.

  “I believe you.” He reached down and caught the edge of his T-shirt and pulled it up and over his head, baring his magnificent torso for her. It was cut with ridges of hard muscle that she itched to stroke. “You are a woman.”

  She purred as he caught her back up against him. No, her father wouldn’t approve, but she didn’t care. The thought of returning to the life she’d had was intolerable, not when she’d discovered what living was truly about in Vitus’s arms.

  So she wiggled until she could get her hands between them and stroke him the way she’d wanted to. He made a soft, male sound of frustration against her lips and settled for releasing her so that she might have her way.

  “Go on princess, stroke me,”

  She did. Shivering as it felt like touching him was in some way completing a current. The moment she touched him, energy went pulsing through her, awakening a zillion points of awareness inside her that she’d been unaware of before.

  Yet it wasn’t enough. She broke away from him, fighting to free herself from her clothing.

  “Oh no,” he muttered in a husky tone. “Baring you is going to be my pleasure.”

  He caught her shirt near the hem and tugged it up and over her head. It went fluttering down onto the floor as he let out a little hum of appreciation. His attention was on her breasts, making her suddenly shy.

  “They aren’t … very big,”

  She could have bitten her tongue in half. Vitus raised his gaze to her hers, granting her a flash of just how much passion was flickering in his eyes. Her confidence regained its wind in response.

  “Do I look like I’m disappointed, princess?”

  He’d closed the gap between them and laid his fingers on the swells of her breasts, where the edge of her bra ended.

  Damascus shook her head.

  He slid his hands around her and found the hooks that held the undergarment closed. She let out a little gasp as he freed them and brought his hands back around her body before pulling the bra down her arms.

  “You’re perfect,” He muttered as he cupped her bare breasts, gently cradling them as he sent a jolt of pleasure down her body. “So damned perfect. Why do you think I call you princess?”

  He didn’t allow her the chance to answer but sealed her mouth beneath his. The kiss was firm and she rose onto her toes to answer him with a demand of her own. She wanted him and needed to make sure that she did her share of taking, craving that feeling of knowing she was his partner, not just his responsibility.

  They weren’t close enough. Damascus needed more of him. It was pounding through her and he seemed to feel it too. He was stroking her. Using his hands to worship every inch of her body. She arched back, her eyes closing as pleasure flooded her. He was moving slowly, so very slowly that it was driving her insane and yet, she enjoyed the torment because she was his sole focus point. The intensity of it was off the scale, at least as far as any scale she’d ever known was concerned.

  He scooped her up, cradling her as though she weighed nothing. Moving her toward the bed and settling her on its surface. He left her for a moment, rising up like the hard warrior who had rescued her to tug her pants loose and strip them from her.

  She shivered, conscious of how easily he might bend her to his will with his strength and yet knowing that she was drawn to those same qualities because of what it unleashed inside her. She rose up, folding her knees beneath her so that she could reach for his fly.

  “Damascus.”

  She liked the strained sound of his voice, enjoyed the way it made her feel more in control than she ever had in her life. She popped open the buttons and heard him draw in a raspy breath.

  His cock was swollen and hard. It sprung out as she freed those buttons because he didn’t have anything on under his jeans. She ended up purring, reaching for it, marveling at the silky smooth texture of it.

  But beneath that skin it was as hard as stone. She stoked it, enjoying the way he threaded his fingers through her hair, tightening his grip just enough to send a tingle of pain across her scalp. She started to lean down, intent on licking the slit on its head but he held her back.

  “No tonight, princess.” There was a firm warning in his tone. “Tonight, I’m the one introducing you to passion.”

  “But…”

  She might was well have saved her breath. When she caught sight of his face, she witnessed a blaze of determination that sent a twist of anticipation through her belly. Her clit was suddenly throbbing as he shucked his jeans and rolled her back onto the bed.

  It was all done in a moment, the bed rocking beneath her back while she gasped and he settled himself half over her. She moaned softly, overwhelmed by the amount of contact between them and yet, still unsatisfied.

  “More.” She wasn’t sure that she decided to speak. Her brain was shutting down, impulses ruling her completely. That was what he was to her, freedom, in its purest form.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered as he nuzzled against her breasts. At the same time, he swept his hand across her belly until he found the curls crowning her cleft.

  She shifted, too full of pulsing need to stay still. He moved with her, locking one of his knees over her leg as he lifted his head and watched her. He teased her curls before delving into her cleft. She let out a soft cry as he found her clit, stroking it with a delicate touch that made her feel like a bolt of fire had gone through her.

  “I’m going to learn just how you like to be touched.”

  There was a promise in his tone that she might have shivered at, except he returned to toying with her clit, making thought impossible. There was only the intense pleasure coming from that single point of contact, so searing she withered but it built something inside her. A need that was rooted deep inside her belly, where instinct rose up, taking control of her. She strained toward him, arching her back as she felt the pleasure building, twisting, intensifying, until it all burst like a huge firework that rained down fiery sparks.

  “You never touched yourself princess?” Now there was a note of wonder in his voice. It drew her away from the stupor the explosion had left her wallowing in and she opened her eyes.

  “No.”

  She felt stripped in that moment. For the first time in her life, completely honest about who she was. Vitus considered her for a long moment before he slowly smiled. There was a look of achievement on his face that struck her as some sort of gift that she’d expectantly given him.

  “Touch me some more, Vitus.”

  His eyes narrowed, passion drawing his features tight. “Yes…, ma’am.”

  He shifted, leaning down to kiss her. She reached for him, feeling like it was the most natural thing in life to do. They fit together in a way she’d never imagined two humans might. Both of them created to merge together in a moment of utter bliss. It far over shadowed the moment of pain when he pushed into her body for the first time. The ache lingered but she was too busy enjoying the building intensity that promised her another explosion of pleasure. She craved it with the need of an addict, craved him, and Vitus didn’t disappoint her.

  Not in the slightest.

  * * *

  Vitus didn’t sleep.

&n
bsp; Not yet anyway. His mind was turning a puzzle over and that meant there was going to be no rest for him until he came to a conclusion.

  He’d had sex before.

  Tonight had been something different. Vastly different. He lay there stunned by his need to listen to Damascus breathing. He needed the scent of her body in some strange way that he’d never encountered before either. Yet it was there now, making the idea of slipping out of her bed repugnant.

  A memory shifted and rose up from his brain. It was the look on his father’s face when he watched Vitus’s mother. Something Vitus had seen often but never understood completely.

  Until now.

  He got it now.

  Because he was likely looking at Damascus the same way. It was devotion mixed with an emotion Vitus had avoided ever using in relationship to himself. That single thing that made more SEAL’s hang up their boots and settle down.

  Love.

  ‘You’ve gone and done it now, sailor.’

  He really didn’t regret it, nope, he was too full of wonder and excitement. Of course, his brother was going to give him holy hell over it but that just seemed like a dash of spice on the whole thing too.

  * * *

  “Vitus.” Saxon was growing frustrated.

  Vitus heard it in his brother’s voice and looked up at his sibling.

  “You’ve got to stay away from her.”

  “I’m not putting pressure on her.”

  Saxon grunted at him. “I sure as shit didn’t think so. You can bet I would have gone through that door the first time I heard you kiss her if I thought you were a bastard.”

  Vitus lifted his hands in surrender as far as the point went. “Okay, fine. I know how it goes.”

  “So what are you doing bedding her?” Saxon demanded. “Jeb Ryland can make a whole world of trouble for you.”

  “I love her.”

  Saxon’s eyebrows shot up. “What the fuck?” his brother demanded. “You’ve known her an entire two weeks.”

  “I know,” Vitus cut back. “Don’t ride my ass. It’s just as hard for me to swallow as you, but it’s real bro. I don’t know how to prove it to you, but it’s eating a hole in me and it’s not the first time you’ve ever heard of it happening.”

  Saxon muttered a word under his breath that made Vitus grin in victory, but his sibling pointed at him. “I’m not doubting you Vitus, but I am warning you, that little thing in there is a princess, and you know the ground rules are different for those. Brother to brother, I’ve got to tell you to walk away.”

  “I know,” Vitus answered. “I can’t.”

  “You mean you won’t,” Saxon argued.

  Vitus shook his head. “No. I can’t, Saxon. It doesn’t make any sense, but I could cut my arm off easier.”

  * * *

  Damascus was wringing her hands.

  She paced back and forth across the tiny bedroom as time crawled by. She felt like her insides were knotted, but she turned and walked back toward the bed, determined to get all the nervous energy out of her system before Vitus returned.

  He would return.

  She concentrated on that idea, refusing to allow any doubt to wiggle around it.

  “Miss me?”

  She jumped, earning a chuckle from Vitus.

  “How do you sneak up on people like that?” she asked, too relieved to see him to be anything but joyous.

  He offered her a lazy shrug of his huge shoulders, but there was a cocky grin on his lips that made her smile brighter. “It’s a gift.”

  He was pleased with himself. Damascus felt the tension dissipating. “And? What happened?”

  He winked at her. “We got them.”

  Damascus was moving toward him, but he held up a finger. She froze, losing the battle to keep doubt from filling her mind. Was he going to tell her he was moving on? Give her the “dear Jane” conversation? She watched his expression, seeking any clue to his intentions, but all she saw was a flicker of determination in his eyes.

  “You can go home now,” Vitus began. “Or—”

  “Yes?” she interrupted, unable to stop herself from leaping for the bit of hope he’d tossed out.

  “Will you marry me?”

  Vitus would have looked ridiculous on his knee. Instead, the SEAL was hesitating in the doorway with the first uncertain expression she’d ever seen on his face. He’d pulled something from his pocket, a small circle of gold that had a diamond winking at her.

  “Yes … yes … yes!” Damascus flew across the room and launched herself into his arms. He caught her easily, holding her against him while her feet dangled somewhere around his ankles. She realized she’d never been truly happy before, because the way she felt right then was tons more intense, like the sun was suddenly shinning right in the center of her chest.

  Vitus let her down and captured her hand. He slid the ring onto her finger. “It’s not much—”

  “It’s everything,” she insisted. Everything that she needed. “So, you going to take me to your place?”

  He chuckled at her. “And chain you to my bed.”

  Damascus winked at him. “I should be so lucky.”

  * * *

  Vitus’s house was more homey than she’d expected. By the light of day, Damascus explored her new surroundings only to find her new fiancé watching her from the kitchen.

  “I’m not disappointed,” she told him.

  He didn’t really believe her. Damascus watched his face and read his uncertainty. She moved closer, catching the scent of fresh coffee.

  “I’m not,” she confirmed when she was close enough to lay her hands on his chest.

  His expression remained set. “Enough to tell your father whose ring you’re wearing?”

  “Yes.” She took a moment to straighten her ring.

  Now he smiled, his eyes filling with a warmth that stole her breath. He reached onto the counter behind him and picked up a coffee mug. Vitus drew off a long sip before speaking again.

  “In that case, let’s roll.”

  “And if I’d said no?”

  His expression turned wicked. “I would have taken you back to bed and given you more evidence to weigh”—Vitus cupped her bottom—“in my favor.”

  “Well, in that case, I’m not…”

  A little woof was all that got past her lips when he tossed her right over his shoulder. She giggled as he carried her back toward his bedroom.

  Her father would just have to wait.

  * * *

  Damascus stared at her father. They had never been close, but today she realized just how snowed she had been. Jeb Ryland was furious. The outrage flickering in his eyes didn’t frighten her. No, all it did was make her feel incredibly grateful for the eye-opening experience life had handed her.

  “I’m sorry you’re not happy for me.”

  Jeb had settled behind his desk—a huge mahogany one—and she realized her father was trying to intimidate her.

  Damascus straightened up. “But my mind is set.”

  “Unset it,” Jeb snapped.

  “I am not a teenager.” Damascus kept her voice steady, deciding to prove the point by not turning the conversation into an emotional tirade.

  Her father’s lips twisted in a judgmental frown. “Apparently not, since you have decided to start bedding the help.”

  “Vitus rescued me.”

  Jeb offered her a shrug. “He’s a dog of war, that’s his job.” He leaned forward. “Keeping his hands off you was also his job.”

  “I wanted him to touch me.”

  Her father slapped the desktop. “Slut,” he accused softly. “No daughter of mine is going to be bedding a dog.”

  Outrage was moving through her, but Damascus maintained her composure. “I am sorry you feel this way. She gently fingered her engagement ring, the small token bringing her all the confidence she needed. “However, I am going to marry Vitus Hale.”

  “Do it and you’ll be a widow within a month.”

  Her father’s voice was cutting, but so certain that Damascus sank back down into the chair she’d started to get out of.

  Jeb gave her a smug look. “That’s right. He’s active duty. I know plenty of admirals who will make sure he goes out in a flame of glory.”

  “You”—her throat was tight—“monster.”

  Her father slowly shook his head. “What I am is successful, Damascus. An idea you will learn to devote yourself to.”