Page 12 of The Dare

I’m suddenly blissfully unaware of the train, Suzanna, or her stupid dare.

It’s just me and...

Michael.

I can hear his name from somewhere, someplace far off that’s carried on the same deep sound vibrating through the air that’s filling me.

Mom and Suzanna weren’t kidding.

This is one handsome man, but more than that he has something else.

That indefinable quality that normal people just don’t have or even understand.

It has me in his clutches, and even though he’s captured my gaze I can make him out just fine.

He’s huge, well over six feet, and chooses to stay seated because I can tell whenever he stands he must hit his head, even in this triple-sized suite.

He has full, dark hair but those eyes are darker. Brighter.

A curious brow is slightly raised above them, and his chiseled flexing jaw only adds to the intensity of his stare.

His huge, muscular frame seems to contract as his commanding look burns into me like a laser beam.

The scent of his cologne seems further away now even though we’re closer.

Instead picking up on something else that isn’t obvious up close.

Like the man has such an aura about him that the closer I get things like scent and my own nerves give way to something else.

Something I’ve sure as hell never felt before, and it’s not just because of his good looks.

Before I can even think or focus on moving, Suzanna’s shoved me roughly into his suite, announcing I have something to ask when the train lurches.

I watch his intense eyes widen.

Michael.

His name is the only thing on my mind as I feel myself hurtling towards him as he moves quickly to catch me, the train throwing me off balance.

“I’ve got you,” he says in a deep, husky tone. That muscular body hard under my palms pressed flat against him.

His large hands hold me firmly but gently, I usually shy away from full-frontal contact with a stranger, but it’s kind of unavoidable in this situation.

I gasp as I feel the air leave me, but it’s the feeling of his hard body against my instantly hard nipples that’s done it.

A flush of heat to the space between my legs draws another sound from me as a deep rumble comes from the huge man himself.

“I’ve got you,” he repeats, and looking up I watch in helpless fascination as his smooth lips pull into a smile.

He’s got me alright.

The train could be hurtling off a cliff and I wouldn’t mind, but it’s only taken a bend in the track a little faster than expected.

I could die happy like this, in his arms. His hands are so big and warm.

So strong.

Michael.