Always Choose Dare

Chapter 7 - Metaphoric but HUGE

After nearly an hour of plastering a smile on my face, my cheeks are throbbing. They say it takes more muscles to smile than frown, and now I believe it! I feel like I should have burned a thousand calories between smiling for this long and signing nearly one hundred books. My word, I’m so ready to go home! And yet, I’m loving every minute of this — seeing how my writing has reached so many people who willingly got up early just to meet me. While it’s exciting, I’m overcome by how humbling it is. Ultimately, I feel even more committed to my decision to leave international relations behind to pursue my writing career full-time!

I shift in my seat, not used to wearing a corset as a top rather than under my top. When the stylist stopped by last night, I had shared my desire to be bolder, not just in personality, but in my actual look. After digging through my wardrobe, he ended up dressing me in tan leather pants, a black satin corset with off-the-shoulder lace sleeves, and black heels. The front and sides of my hair are pinned back, revealing my new streaks of purple. My ten ear piercings are filled with simple, small diamond studs, and I have on a black lace choker with a tiny teardrop diamond dangling at its center. My make-up is light - just a dusting of powder, mascara, and clear lip gloss. After talking with Beth yesterday, I’ve lost the last bit of concern I once had about hiding my scar.

I finish signing the book in front of me and begin feeling self-conscious. As I set my pen aside, I notice my wolf ring seems to have a glow to it again, emitting a warmth that seems to seep into my finger, then rushes through my body. As the warmth permeates me, I feel drawn to look past the line of fans eagerly awaiting my putting pen to paper for them. My eyes seek something more, something that will make this warmth stay. Then they find it: honey.

For the second time in my life, I’ve discovered eyes that look as though they are made of the richest of honeys. Unlike Dora’s, though, this pair has a sparkle to them, as though they are bubbling with heat. I take a deep breath and survey their owner. His dark hair frames his chiseled face. His full lips are parted, giving me a glimpse of the whitest teeth, which stand out against his darkly tanned skin and dusting of fresh beard growth. Though he is well-dressed in a suit, tattoos peek out around the edges of cloth at his collar and cuffs. While he isn’t huge like some gym-rat body builder, it’s evident that he is muscular. By far, he is the most panty-drop-worthy man I’ve ever seen! I watch as he turns to speak to the man next to him, and I swear I can hear the groan of his pants as they strain to contain his rounded ass.

“Remi, are you ok?” Beth whispers in my ear.

Why is she calling me by my real name in front of fans? I look up at her, and I can see the concern in her eyes.

“Honey, you groaned like you were, you know…” Her voice trails off as she lifts her eyebrows and glances at my lap.

Oh my god, did I really make s*x noises?! What is wrong with me?

I do my best to drag my eyes to the fan in front of me, reaching for her book. I open the front cover and begin my inscription.

“May you never forget that you are the main character of your own story. Your friend, Star Knightly.”

I force a smile at the fan, and when she finishes what she is saying, I thank her and tell her that I hope she loves the book as much as I loved writing it. Guilt gnaws at my stomach because I didn’t hear a word she said while my mind races, still trying to piece together who that guy is. It’s taking the strength of a saint to not check him out again.

Who am I kidding? I totally eye-f****d him. And groaned in response. s**t!

“Ms. Knightly?” I hear my penname ring.

I flick my eyes up to see the store manager.

“Yes?” I reply.

I really need to get myself together. Distractedness isn’t going to win me any points with the fans or the bookstore owners. Not only that, but it will make me look brainless in front of Mr. s*x-in-a-suit.

“What would you like us to do about the two missing tickets?” She asks.

“Well, if the tickets are missing, and you know for sure that ninety-eight have been given out, then escort the two next buyers back without tickets. I don’t really see a reason for the tickets to be necessary for just these two,” I say calmly, feeling composed and professional, even if I did just pull that out of my ass.

Then I hear it. The deep timbre of his voice seems to slice straight through my shell.

“Marek, I think it would be wise for us to escort the two remaining buyers, to ensure Ms. Knightly’s safety,” he says, his words coming out in an accent I've never heard, even with my lifelong experience of being around foreigners.

It’s as if his words dance, rolling and swaying as they slip from his tongue. God, I wonder what else he can do with his tongue!

“Remi, do you need some water or food or something? You groaned again,” Beth whispers in my ear, dragging a bottle of water across the desktop to sit in front of me.

I glance at her, wondering how she isn’t going stupid over tall, dark, and f**k-me-sexy the way I was.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m hormonal or something. The guy that was here a minute ago just really lit a fire in my panties,” I whisper back.

At this point, I feel fairly certain that my leather pants are ruined. There is no way I am taking them to the cleaners in this condition!

“I don’t know how he could do that, considering you didn’t even speak to each other. You don’t even know his name,” Beth says, obviously confused by my confession.

“Just keep it to yourself, and I’ll try to keep it in my pants,” I hushedly snap at her.

“Silently, I hope,” she says with a sarcastic eyebrow raise.

“Mm hm,” I respond.

What is taking my spank bank deposit so long to bring the last two fans back?

Before I can lift myself from my seat to try to get a look at where he is, he and the other guy walk toward my desk with two very eager-looking young ladies. It’s evident that they might be more excited about their escorts than about my signature, and while I want that to upset me a little, I honestly cannot blame them. As they approach, the two men stay a step behind them, allowing the ladies to approach my desk. After some light pleasantries, I sign the first book. When finished, I glance up to see the two men in a whispered argument. I continue with the second book and bid farewell to the fans.

“Pardon me, Ms. Knightly. Do you have a minute to talk? Privately?”

That voice hooks my soul, making me want to please him. I shake my head to get that thought out of it, but he takes it as a “no”. Sighing, he puts his hands on his hips and looks down, seeming to fight an inner battle.

“You don’t have to do this, Al-“ his friend begins, but is cut off with a harsh look.

“It’s for her safety,” he snaps, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Sid can’t find out about her. If I accept this gift, then she’d be at too great of a risk. You saw what he’s already done!”

My safety? Who is Sid? I don’t know anyone named Sid. I look around, trying to figure out how I’m not safe.

He squares his shoulders and draws his eyes up my body, pausing at my scar, then locking on my eyes. Is that pity I see in his honey eyes? Oh, I don’t need your pity, sweetheart! It’s the pause that awakens my anger within, suddenly feeling as though I am going to have to defend myself from whatever he’s about to say.

Then, his words come rushing out, like he can’t help but rush through them.

“Listen, I don’t want to do this, but I really don’t have a choice. Fate has given me no options. Maybe if we had met before… There are things in this world that are not right, and the balance of light and dark is being tipped. Please forgive me! I, Daire Ó Faoláin, rightful prince of the third realm, reject you, Star Knightly, as my goddess-given mate.”

I watch as he flinches as though he is expecting pain, but the only pain he has coming is the tongue-lashing I’m about to give him.

Maybe if we had met before? Before what? Before I was scarred?

“Listen, I don’t know who the fu(k you think you are to make fun of my writing, but you can take your opinions of my book themes and shove them up your ass! Reject me!? While I give you some credit for creativity, you are just like every other prick who thinks he is too good for my scarred face; and to that, I say, 'Suck my d!ck!'”

“I..it has nothing to do with…uh…you don’t have a d**k,” he stutters out in confusion.

His brows are drawn together, his head tilted to the side, trying to figure out what I had said. Any other time, I’d have thought the expression cute, but right now his cuteness only pisses me off more. How dare he be cute!

“Oh, but I do. It may be metaphoric, but it’s huge, and you’re about to choke on it!” I am seething. “Johan, this assh0le needs an escort to the curb. If he doesn’t comply, call the cops because I will press charges for harassment,” I command.

I stand quickly and shove my chair back under the desk hard, causing the sound of the impact to echo throughout the store. Johan steps away from his post beside me as I gather my belongings.

As Johan approaches the men, I hear - did he say his name was Daire? - tell his friend, “It didn’t work. Why the hell do I still feel bonded to her?”

His friend replies, “No offense, Daire, but it serves you right. No one should spat in the face of the Goddess when given this gift, even if you think it makes her safe. If it's not the Goddess’ will for you to find her right here, right now, then we wouldn’t be here.”

Johan steps between the men, placing one arm over each of their shoulders to herd them toward the front exit so I can depart through the back. I throw the strap of my bag over my shoulder and fiddle with my wolf ring, as I always do when I’m upset. I’ve been rejected by men before, but this one hurt so much more. Maybe because he insulted my writing in the process?

As I begin to turn away, Daire casts me one last look, then lowers his gaze to my hands. His face contorts into a look of bewildered shock. His eyes find mine once more, and they are filled with pain.

“Wait! Please!” he desperately calls out to me as tears begin spilling down his cheeks. “How? How do you have her ring?”