Truth or Dare

by Karen

September 2002, Firthness Challenge - Winning Story

Rated PG


Her heavy-lidded gaze traveled up slowly and his eyes followed hers as they forged a sensuous path from his chest, to his throat then his mouth. His breath became uneven, mere inches from hers, shallow, on the verge of panting.

Her twin pools of hazel seemed to linger for a moment, as if contemplating... maybe anticipating... no, it was an unmistakable wanting, a needing to feel the press of those lips against hers, a sudden craving to taste what lay beyond and more. She winced slightly, but a hitched breath served as an outward betrayal of her own realization. "Impossible," she thought, "because I know he dislikes me."

She shifted her stance, uncomfortable, but was unable to stop her visual trek upward until their eyes finally met. The glitter in his gaze, the pure carnality of his hungry look hit her like a hard punch to the gut and an overwhelming electric attraction arced between them. He found his fingertips, of their own volition, moving up to stroke her cheeks. Tenderly.

Her lips parted.

And his mouth moved to hers. "Oh God, Elizabeth." His whisper came out as a plea and a prayer.

It was hard to believe that she had just flattened him with a right-cross punch to his jaw in front of two hundred people not ten minutes ago...

"Pay the woman, Charles." A group of five masculine voices taunted the man. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill amidst the laughter ensuing around the table. The din of dance music and crowd noises made the group's voices barely noticeable.

"Keep the change, sweetheart," he replied to the smiling redheaded waitress as she finished delivering the latest round of tequila shots to the table. She shook her head in good humor and left, maneuvering expertly through the crowd. "I thought the whole point of a bachelor party was to show the groom a night out."

"Under normal circumstances, yes, but you're the one who insisted on playing this stupid game," Darcy chided.

"Hey!" He mocked being affronted. "You know it's tradition, Darce!" That much was true. The group of men had been friends since college and had without fail enjoyed this particular diversion at every one of their gatherings since their earliest acquaintance. "Besides which, if memory serves, you're the one who came up with our special rules for T or D." Darcy stared at him, not denying the statement.

'Truth or Dare Without a Net', they called it.

"Now," Charles continued, "let's see, I paid last, so I'll keep it rolling." He turned with a grin to his left. "Leo. That would mean you." Leo groaned in dread. "Okay. Hmmm." Charles tapped his fingers on the table and his face lit up as he settled on a question that would be suitably demeaning. "Just how DID you land the Weston account last spring?" Leo met Charles' look straight on.

"Oh, no. I'm not doing another one of your Dares tonight, buddy. I'll fess up and be done with it." Charles raised his brows expectantly, along with the other four members of the group who were observing. "Okay I'll admit it. I screwed Amada Weston." Gales of raucous laughter resulted at the admission. "What? I know she's not the most gorgeous piece I've ever had, but she's not a dog." The laughter grew louder. "Okay. So, she's a dog." Leo actually blushed and hid his eyes under his palm.

At least he had bypassed another one of the hare-brained Dare-stunts the group usually came up with. If a player refused to answer the Truth question, he was subjected to a humiliating task that, according to the Darcy "no net" rules, he had to perform. Or at least attempt to perform. If unsuccessful, the table was treated to a round of drinks at the loser's expense.

"I hate playing T or D in busy nightclubs, Charles," Darcy commented, then taking another gulp of his beer. "It's really tempting fate." He scanned the room for the petite brunette and, finding her once more, returned his fixed stare on her movement.

"At least we didn't start at the last place we were in," Charles replied and everyone agreed, laughing. The group had just left a strip club, a place where their sometimes outrageous Dares would have been at best unappreciated. The present nightclub was the last stop in Charles' bachelor party bar-crawl, a position requested by his bride because her sister owned the club.

Jane, Charles' wife-to-be, assured him that she would feel infinitely better if the group ended the evening at Elizabeth's place, where they could be properly taken care of, should the need arise. Elizabeth knew that meant she would need to keep an eye out on the sometimes rowdy group of six. Scratch that and make it five. One of the group had the fun-potential of a wet blanket and, while she was more than happy to baby-sit Jane's fiancé and his groomsmen from afar, she was none too thrilled about the prospect of paying any attention to the handsome but openly distant best man.

"Darce?" Leo attempted to pull William Darcy from his reverie. "Earth to Will." Darcy turned his attention back to the group. "Your turn, buddy." Leo smiled, all the while trying to conjure up an appropriately embarrassing Truth question that would reveal too much. Charles nudged Leo's arm and motioned for him to bow his head for a shared confidence. As Charles finished, Leo's eyes flew to Darcy's, first wide and then crinkled in humor. "Okay, Darce. Don't think. Right now, just this minute," and he fired the payload, "who would you like to be in bed with this instant?"

Darcy's mouth firmed as he glared at Charles. He didn't miss a beat as he made his pronouncement. "Dare." Five sets of eyes looked at him with raised brows. "I said I'll take the Dare. What is it? What do I have to do?" Charles nudged Leo again and privately shared a thought. Leo beamed.

"Nothing so bad or hard, Will." Again with another payload. "You just have to go kiss Elizabeth Bennett... and we mean really kiss her." Charles was grinning idiotically as Leo continued, "You've got five minutes. Now go to it, man." Darcy glared. "Hey, your rules, Darce. You've got to at least try any Dare."

Charles leaned in and declared in sotto voce to his best man, "It's not like you've got to waste time finding her, Will. You've been staring at her since we got here." Darcy narrowed his eyes. "Hell, you've been staring at her since you first laid eyes on her."

Darcy got up from the table and stalked through the crowd. He supposed that he could blame any negative fallout from what he was preparing to do on tequila shots and beer. Oh, he would never hear the end of it, the best man laying one on the maid of honor the night before the wedding. And he would have all day tomorrow trapped face-to-face with her to feel well and truly embarrassed. He should have just answered the damned 'Truth' question and removed all doubt to begin with.

It was her he wanted at the instant Leo asked. Her. Elizabeth Bennett. The little nymph with silky dark hair that swayed with her walk, and laughing eyes that stilled when she looked at him. And he was so besotted, all he could do was mutely stare when she was near.

Thank the heavens for liquid courage.

He found her quickly, standing with her back to him at a table near the dance floor, involved in a consuming conversation with guests seated there. Knowing he had to work quickly, he calculated two options: he could either ask her to dance and sneak a kiss on the dance floor, or he could use a surprise attack, by spinning her around now and doing the job. He surmised that a sneak attack would probably be most effective.

And it might have been, had she not just returned with change for the bar.

Will Darcy learned a valuable lesson that night: Never sneak up on a bar professional when said professional is in the process of quieting a potentially messy fight between patrons. And it's particularly important not do it by grabbing that professional from behind when he or she has a roll of quarters in hand.

Reflexively and already firmly in defense mode, Elizabeth pushed free and swung her hand before looking, landing a square thump on Darcy's chin. It was enough to throw him off balance and, what she started, the waitress carrying a pitcher of beer next to him finished by knocking him resolutely on his backside.

Two hundred pairs of eyes were on him. And then quickly, as Elizabeth realized who was at her feet, she bent down, grabbing his hand to hoist him up. Before he knew it, she had shuffled him to a room behind the bar, away from remaining onlookers and close to massive quantities of dry towels.

Sobriety has its advantages.

She grabbed a towel and began to dry his chest, unthinking of impropriety and apologizing profusely as she dabbed his shirt. "Will, I am so sorry." She retrieved a fresh towel and kept applying it to his shirt. "I wasn't even thinking." Darcy stood stock-still and wordless, any embarrassment was vanquished as he reveled in her ministrations, and all the while he held a steady gaze down at her face. Another towel. The stare burned hot.

Elizabeth began to feel it. Intensely.

Slowly she raised her eyes as her hands dropped away and he felt her gaze rise as he willed her eyes to meet his. Her breath hitched, his fingers stroked her cheeks and the careful guard usually present in his look was gone. Bare and naked his eyes bespoke of raw and primal passion as his breathing went from steady to shallow and fast.

Her lips parted in silent invitation and gently he moved to press his mouth to hers, a homage at first. "Oh God, Elizabeth," he whispered against her, cupping her face like a most precious jewel as their lips pressed in an almost chaste kiss. She smelled of citrus and tasted like sweet mint. Then he pulled away slightly, as if he were testing her reaction to him, and sensing her acceptance breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

He captured her mouth again as he returned, slanting his face to her and running his tongue across her lips, almost imperceptibly at first. Then down full force, he deepened his invasion, stroking and exploring and tangling inside, virtually drinking her in. And all the while both hands still cupped her face like the rarest treasure, the most delicate flower.

Elizabeth was stunned by the obvious passion she saw evident in his eyes and the tender display just afforded her. As their lips parted she looked at him in question and he smiled at her, eyes sparkling. "I have to go back out there, you know." He stroked her hair and ran his hand down her arm, traveling to her fingers. He grasped them and lifted her palm to his lips, kissing it. "But I'll see you tomorrow, all right?" He winked. "Can I steal you away afterwards, tomorrow night?" She smiled and nodded, almost shyly. He squeezed her hand and made his way back out into the club.

Darcy returned to his table and was greeted by five very expectant faces. "Well?" they asked, almost in unison. Ambling over to his chair, he pulled it out and sat down. He lightly nibbled his bottom lip, barely running his tongue over it to capture her taste still lingering on him.

He smiled and replied, "No luck guys. Guess the next round's on me."

Copyright held by Karen - 2002