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She got a funny look on her face, but she’d started this. If she didn’t like what he had to say, that wasn’t his problem. And he actually did like her. So what if he’d never really thought it through before?
“Number five? I can hang out with you and drink a beer. Better yet, I can dare you to do stupid shit and you’ll say yes. You’ve got a secret fun side, Dixon, and I definitely like that about you.”
And conveniently, he knew just the way to do it, too.
“So how about it? You taking my dare?”
* * *
THE LOOK ON Levi’s face was pure mischief. No. Scratch that, because there was absolutely, positively nothing pure about the man. He was unashamedly filthy. Ordinarily, she kind of enjoyed that about him—not that she’d admit it—but he’d risen to the challenge and now he was proposing one of his own.
Performing a solo sex show wasn’t on the top of her to-do list, however. Of course, making a personal sex tape or sending naked selfies wasn’t on there either, so maybe she needed to loosen up. Or convince Levi to go first. There was definitely one thing they needed to get straight first.
“Wait.” She patted the suggestive cocktail menu. “Some of these drinks are a team endeavor. I’m not having sex with you—or with anyone else.”
Not that she was planning on losing the dare but, just in case, it was probably prudent to establish a few ground rules. God knew, Levi could probably have sex with an entire circus troupe, but she wasn’t watching that, participating in that, or even thinking about that. Much.
He bumped her knee with his own. It was a good knee, hard and firm. She could feel the heat of his skin through his cargo pants and the sensation promptly sent her mind into the gutter. Darn it. It had to be the island and the anything-goes sexual ambiance that actually had her picturing Levi naked.
“Got it,” he said. “Anything I pick has to be a solo act. No orgies, threesomes, or anything involving multiples.”
Was she really going to do this? It was stupid. Juvenile. There were plenty of adjectives that covered the situation, and all of them screamed stop and reassess. She hesitated, the yes stuck on her tongue.
Levi raised a brow mockingly. “Chicken?”
“Don’t be juvenile,” she sniffed. She wasn’t afraid of him. Or of losing. She’d seen the drinks menu—how bad could it be if she gave in?
Plus, who was she kidding? It was worth the risk just to watch Mr. I-can’t-keep-it-in-my-pants SEAL suffer through a week of sexual abstinence. The odds of Levi’s achieving an orgasm-free week were low.
“You’re on.” He toasted her lazily with his beer bottle. His empty beer bottle. Har. She’d won that one. “We’ve decided the rules for my part of the deal. Now let’s finalize yours.”
She concentrated on not hyperventilating while she got her thoughts together. Honestly, she had no idea how she’d gotten sucked into a sexy dare with Levi. Stuff just kind of happened around him, though, like he was a magnet for trouble. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that the man had never met a rule he didn’t want to break. If the sign read “Don’t climb,” he climbed. She’d hung the equivalent of the world’s biggest “Keep off the grass” sign on her chest with her celibacy dare, so maybe it was only natural he wanted to be all over her. Levi was perverse like that.
“I’m waiting,” he said huskily, when she stared at him, lost in those thoughts. “If you’ve got sexy conditions, you might want to lay them on me before I’m old and gray.”
It had been a while since she’d spelled out the conditions of a bet or a dare. In fact, the last time she could remember doing so was when she was all of twelve and egging her cousins on in a who-can-jump-off-the-highest-cliff contest. This wasn’t much less juvenile.
“No O-face. No orgasm, with or without a partner or partners. Accidental orgasm still counts. And no hand action. You lose and you’re voted off the island, effective immediately.” She ticked the items off on her fingers. Reaching over, she patted him on the knee, her fingertips rubbing the hard, muscled warmth of his thigh. Wow. Brandon Boy was ripped. “You got all that, big guy?”
“That might be too much for me to process,” he drawled.
“Use the big head, not the little one. You’ll be fine.”
He sighed. “Mean. I like that.”
Maybe he’d lost his mind in that last foxhole. Or been too close to some kind of major explosion. From the way he grinned at her, her face radiated her suspicions loud and clear. “You’re not supposed to like it.”
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