HazardsDare (3 page)

Now here she was with one of the best linebackers in
professional football. And beyond her better judgment, her heart was telling
her that Hazard was the man she’d been looking for when she walked through the
door.

She hadn’t known he was here specifically. But maybe a
little destiny was at work tonight. Maybe it was time to live and laugh with
someone who didn’t give a damn who her father, brother and little sister were
and would see her for herself.

Hazard had a problem.

Actually, he had several, starting with the red-dressed
vixen sitting across from him, her hand still tucked within his, and an
erection that could pound nails.

Worse? It didn’t help alleviate his hard-on, even after
knowing he’d been alerted to Avery’s possible arrival by Alex Grant shortly
before he’d started his set.

Alex’s text had been simple.

Morgan Maddox called. Said my sister’s been planning to
go to the Truth or Dare Club all day, but felt certain danger was following
Avery. Keep an eye on her for me, and for god’s sake, keep your zipper zipped
around my sister.

Having scrambled off a response that promised he’d keep an
eye on Alex’s sister, Hazard went out on stage, guitar in hand, phone in his
pocket.

Promising to keep an eye on Alex’s sister had been easy.
Keeping the promise was going to be hell.

He and Avery had met for the first time during a stressful
time in the Grant family’s lives when Charles Grant fell ill and Alex donated
his kidney to save his father’s life.

When Hazard and Avery spoke, he’d worried that her
honey-blonde hair was wound so tightly at her nape, it might cause a headache.
She’d been all business, curt and distracted, with a yes-man kowtowing to
anyone with the last name of Grant.

He had no idea who the guy was until Kyran Black said the
dick was Avery’s fiancé. He hadn’t seen a rock on her left hand, but then, she
was under enormous stress.

He’d also been aware that she’d worn sensible shoes, a
sensible pinstriped skirt and a white button-down blouse and suit coat that could
have been the feminine version of Alexander Grant’s favorite attire.

Everything about Avery screamed future housewife and staid
political partner. He’d figured that if she did marry her yes-man, she’d end up
first lady of Kentucky someday.

Making things more complicated? They’d not spoken more than
five minutes when they met. Yet he’d thought of her after they parted ways. In
his dreams, she hadn’t been wearing sensible clothing. No, she’d been naked
under him, with her long as fuck legs parted wide as he sank into her pussy.

He’d called himself all kinds of names for having thoughts
like that about his agent’s sister. Alex was a friend, making Avery a friend by
default.

You didn’t screw over your friends or fuck their sisters,
unless love was involved. Thinking about Avery Grant late into the night did
not equate love. If anything, he’d call it a crush.

That didn’t stop his erection the instant Avery stepped into
the Truth or Dare Club wearing a skintight red mini-dress with a hem that
barely stopped at her thighs. The sexy scarlet shoes on her feet added six
inches to her height and made her long shapely legs go all the way to heaven.

In that instant, he’d wanted to do bad things to the lady in
red! Singing directly to her, he imagined the heaven he’d find when he slipped
his hands under her velvet hem to discover her warm, lush pussy.

It didn’t matter that she’d come to Dare for the kind of
anonymity he enjoyed when football season ended or when he needed to simply get
away from the limelight.

If she was going to find a fuck buddy, this was the right
place and no one but the two of them would know what went down. Damn, that was
a temptation and a curse.

A curse because he had to protect her from herself. It was a
temptation because he wanted to be her fuck buddy.

What kind of man was he anyway? He might well be a gridiron
legend and well known for his frequent open, noncommittal relationships and
sexual appetite, but he wasn’t heartless.

Jaxon Wynter, co-owner of the Truth or Dare Club and one of
the founding four business partners who’d bought up the wasteland Dare had once
been, came over and set a row of tequila shots and a bottle of one hundred
percent agave tequila on the table, along with a plate of lime slices and dish
of salt.

Normally, Hazard didn’t drink during the season. Given the
fact that the Griffins had made the playoffs and earned a first-round bye, and
he had a week off to rejuvenate away from the practice field before returning
to work their asses off to prepare for game one, he thought tequila didn’t seem
like such a bad idea.

Hell, he was going to need a shot in order to find the
strength to put an end to Avery’s plan and send her to her hotel room untouched
and alone. He’d make sure she was safe. He might even take her out tomorrow
night so she could have some fun and get to know the town of Dare.

Fucking her was out of the question. Out of the question, he
told himself when Jaxon walked away with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

Hazard shook his head and handed a shot glass to the lady.
“What are we drinking to tonight?”

“Freedom from expectations,” she answered, licking and
salting the skin between her thumb and index finger before accepting the glass.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Yes. Seven days with no rules.” Like a seasoned pro, she
licked the salt, downed the tequila and finished off with a slice of lime.

Mirroring her, he was sucking on a lime by the time she
finished glass two.

“Easy, baby, what’s the rush?”

“No rush. I just need to let everything go.”

“Everything being…?” Prompting her into conversation, he
drank his second shot, subtly moving the bottle and remaining glasses aside.

Avery noticed her margarita was still half full and sipped
at it. “Where do I start? A retired senator for a father who’d like nothing
more than for me to forgive my cheating ex and plan the wedding of the century,
how about that?”

“I was wondering what happened to him when Alex told me
you’d moved to his neck of the woods.”

Hazard discovered something. Despite the fact that the lady
was a knockout and he was in danger of having blue balls before the night was
over, he could hold a conversation with Avery.

He liked that. Simple as it was, it answered a lot of
questions, namely that the yes-man dogging the Grant family was no longer on
Avery’s radar.

“You remember Timothy?”

“Sure I do. The guy had a boner for your father, not in a
sexual way, of course, but like he wanted to walk in your daddy’s footsteps.”

“He does. Timothy is an attorney with a future in politics.
Someday, he might make it to the statehouse, maybe even be a senator. Who
knows? I don’t care anymore.”

Squeezing her hand in sympathy, Hazard was tempted to break
Timothy’s nose for hurting Avery. According to Alex, his sister was the
consummate good girl, always trying to please her family, always doing for
everyone else but herself.

In which case, he didn’t blame her for wanting to get away
from it all and let her hair down. Not that he intended to be the one to mess
up her hair, which he’d noticed was different.

Instead of the tight knot, her hair fell in a straight
glossy curtain to her shoulder blades, the natural blonde color accented with
white-blonde highlights and streaks of light brown. She was uncommonly pretty,
with smooth skin the color of pale honey, high cheekbones, a straight nose and a
firm chin.

She wore traces of makeup, smoky eye shadow, blush and red
lipstick the same color as her velvet dress. The V of the dress let him
appreciate the soft slope of her bare shoulders and gave a tantalizing glimpse
of firm breasts he was itching to fondle.

She didn’t have the kind of exotic features that made models
look good on magazine covers. But her baby-blue eyes were huge and there was an
undeniable sweetness in the bad girl image she’d projected in her seductive
scarlet dress.

He’d not noticed before. Avery Grant had a mouth made for
fucking. Refusing to let himself imagine what it’d feel like to watch his cock
disappear between those full red lips, he snatched up the bottle of tequila and
filled their glasses.

It was going to be a long night.

Might as well get shitfaced drunk and wake up dreading the
idea of facing sunlight rather than cave and tear that dress off Avery, take
her down to the floor and sink into her scorching-hot, soaking-wet pussy.

“Glad you got out of a bad relationship, Avery,” he said
once they finished off another round. Thankfully, he was in great shape and a
couple of shots wouldn’t level him.

“Me too, Hazard, me too.”

“It wouldn’t be right to see a pretty woman like you get
hurt or broken by a guy like Timothy. He’d never love you right.”

“How do you think I should be loved?” Avery’s boldness had
to be a result of the tequila.

Hazard told himself his answer came from the bottle. “Often,
madly, deeply, in the shower, in bed, the floor, against the wall, in every
conceivable position known in the Kama Sutra and some we’d invent ourselves.”

Avery’s eyes widened like sapphires in a doll’s face. At one
time, he’d mistakenly thought this woman was as emotionless and stiff as a
porcelain doll. He’d been wrong.

He still didn’t know her well. But he sure as hell wanted to
know every inch of her delectable body.

“I’d like that, you know?” she said in a whisper that no one
else needed to hear.

“Like what, baby?”

“To fuck, like you described. I’ve never known that kind of
sex. I’m thinking one night with you would spoil me for men for a year.”

A year, one fucking year…that’s all he was good for? “Make
no mistake, Avery. If I fucked you, it wouldn’t be for a night and you’d never
forget me.”

“My hotel is across the street from here. Come back with me
and make me forget every man but you,” she
dared
in a voice that
suddenly turned sultry.

Hazard’s fingers trembled as he splashed tequila into their
shot glasses. Ignoring the dare that might taunt him for the next millennium,
he let go of his glass long enough to grab Avery’s free hand, bring it to him
and wet her skin with his tongue before sprinkling salt on top, then leaning in
to suck it off.

Despite her granular salt-laden skin, she tasted like
ambrosia. But Avery didn’t sit there waiting to participate. She copied his
actions by taking his hand.

And what do you know? Her soft full lips tickled his skin
briefly, her tongue dampening the spot she’d salt.

Caught up in her eyes, he let the moment play out to its
conclusion. When they had their fill of salt, they let each other go long
enough to pick up their glasses and drink in perfect unison.

“Never let me make margaritas with anything less than Patrón
from now on,” Avery said playfully.

“Good call on that.”

“Are you a tequila expert?”

“I’m an expert in a lot of things, tequila among them. But
I’m also a connoisseur of fine wines, scotch and rarely pass up a cold beer
unless it’s football season.”

“It’s still football season.” Avery played with her empty
glass, keeping her eyes on him. “Congratulations are in order. I mean, the
Griffins made the playoffs! I watched your last game and was on my feet
cheering for you.”

“Thanks. We’d gotten there last year but got knocked out in
the first round. This year we’re first in our division.”

“Shouldn’t you be with the team? I’d think practices are
essential.”

“Our playoff game doesn’t happen for two weeks. Coach gave
us a week to rest up before practice resumes.”

“Does that mean you have seven days in Dare?”

“Six, I flew in yesterday and met up with Jax and the house
band to prepare for my set tonight.”

“Jaxon is more than a bartender?”

“He’s part owner of this place and a huge reason why three
other investors agreed to buy up a ghost town and turn it into a mini-mecca for
those who want anonymity.”

“He’s gorgeous and charismatic. At a guess, I’d say there’s
a reason he hides here.”

Hazard could put perceptive on Avery’s list of qualities.
Not that he was counting them or anything.

“Other than my teammates and your brother, there’s no one I
trust more than Jaxon Wynter. We grew up together. Giving up his secrets isn’t
something I’m likely to share with anyone. He and a handful of others are the
only ones who call me Trevor.”

Avery smiled sweetly. “I like that, proves you’re a loyal
friend. Don’t worry. I’m not going to pry into the inner workings of Jaxon’s
mind. He does have a wicked cool tattoo, though. It glows.”

“Showed you the vamp fangs already, did he?” Rocking back a
little in his big seat, he found himself propping his right foot on the
two-person-wide cushioned chair that Avery sat on. “Jax must like you.”

“I like him.”

“Do you?” he asked, shifting his leg enough to brush her
shapely thigh with his calf. “You hardly know him yet.”

“He didn’t get mad when I nailed him in the back with an
unwanted business card. In fact, he looked out for me. It was sweet and he
welcomed me with no questions asked as to what I was doing here alone.”

“That dress is a good indication of your intentions.”

“This dress was pretty. Yes, it makes me feel sexy. There’s
nothing wrong in wanting to look good.”

“That’s true. I take it the business card came from the bozo
hounding you at the bar?”

“Yeah, he’d had the nerve to put his room number on the
back.”

“Hmm, thought you came here looking for that exact thing.”

“Not with him,” Avery stated.

“You knew no one when you walked in. What did you expect to
find?”