THE DARE (G!P Freenbecky)

Chapter 6

Becky took a deep breath and stared at her face in the mirror. Black mascaraed raccoon eyes stared back at her, the lashes crusted with makeup, the Cleopatra-like eye-liner and shadow smeared. Her glossy red lipstick was all gone, thoroughly kissed away. Her below-the-shoulder-length, wavy blonde hair, unpinned and full of static from the dry winter weather, flew every which way.

She looked like a wild woman- but a satisfied wild woman.

There was that darn twinkle in her eyes. The high color on her cheekbones. The slightly swollen lips that curved into a self-satisfied smile.

Don't go there!

Determined to forget, Becky took off the trench coat, stripped off her top and skirt, and then slipped off her underwear and turned on the shower.

But she couldn't stop remembering how exciting it had been to dance, how wild she'd been behind the safety and anonymity of that mask, how Freen had looked when she'd first stormed into the room and she'd thrown her black bra at her.

No. You have a stop thinking about her. You mean nothing to her; just a stipper on the road of life, two ships that met in the night.

She was going to wash that woman right out of her hair, off her body, get her scent off her, forget the feel of her hands, those lips, that voice, her-

Forget it ever happened.

She stepped beneath the hot shower spray and reached for the soap. As soon as she finished, she'd give Lookkaew a full report- leaving out the more intimate details, of course- and then her job was done.

Freen groaned and rolled over, taking the down quilt with her and tangling her legs in it. She grunted, then slowly came awake. She smiled as she took in a deep breath of her scent, and remembered......

Mon.....

She reached for her, her body already primed, thinking ahead to the intense pleasure of an instant replay of last night and found- nothing.

She opened her eyes.

Mon was gone.

Freen frowned, then slowly sat up and ran her fingers through her hair. Odd. She didn't even pay her. Not for the sex, but for the dancing. She'd come to the house to do a job, and she'd done it well, whipping the guests up into a frenzy before she'd brought her back to her den. And she could honestly say that when she'd brought her back here, she'd had no intention of having sex with her.

She hadn't even known that sex like they'd had existed. Freen glanced over at the coffee table and caught sight of the mask. And remembered that face, that short black bobbed hair, those sexy, glossy red lips forming the words that had done him in.

'I dare you to kiss me....'

Once she'd kissed her, she hadn't wanted to stop. Neither had she.

She'd had a lot of sexual experience in her thirty-two years, but last night had been the single best night of her life.

Freen frowned.

'Then why had she left?'

A sudden thought chilled her. 'Maybe she's married.'

'No.' She couldn't believe that. Didn't want to.

'Why had she left?'

She'd known, even as she'd drifted off to sleep last night, her arm firmly around her slender body, that she'd wanted to explore this relationship further. Seulgi had been right; she'd been living an all-work-and-no-play life for so long that when Mon had burst into her life and dared her to play, all of what she'd spent months holding down had come rushing to the surface.