Resolution: Double Dare ((A Resolution Pact Short Story)) Read online

  Resolution: Double Dare by Dee Ellis

  © 2019 by Dee Ellis. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

  Cover Design: Dandelion Cover Designs

  Interior Design: Dee Ellis for Indies Ink

  Publisher: Hummingbird Press

  Sloan

  Sloan

  Sloan

  Sloan

  Sloan

  About The Author

  Sloan

  “Remember, ladies. Do it. Whatever it is you want to do. Wherever you have wanted to go. Whatever you want to try, to taste, to feel, to live... do it. This is our year.”

  Probably the tenth time I’ve looked at that text since I got it New Year’s Eve. Trust me, ladies, I remember. I remember our pact. We promised to smash 2019 and live our best lives.

  We also promised to be supportive of one another any way we could. Including the text messages that have streamed nonstop from that group chat for weeks.

  Updates about some of the others following through. Questions about where others were in their quests. Had they signed up for that class? Had they nailed down their dream? I could not be happier for the girls who had.

  Sister solidarity and all that—the bond you form being part of Sorority is unlike anything else. I always know I have those girls.

  My resolution? Dare to embrace myself. As my eyes swing from my phone to the mirror, I lift my chin as it trembles. Embracing oneself is easier said than done, let me assure you. Especially if your mirror image mocks you.

  Smoothing my hand down the raised and puckered scars that ruin most my left side, I swallow back a rush of tears. It should not hurt all this time later. All these years later that night shouldn’t be able to hurt me. Nevertheless, the pain is phantom and it won’t stop me anymore.

  Watching myself in the mirror, I lock down my emotions right before my eyes. Steel myself against the bitter bile of self-hate threatening to drown me. I dared myself to embrace my flaws this year. Scars included. Physical and psychological.

  Instead of focusing on the scars at my ribs and down my hip, I focus on the bigger picture. On the cute two-piece suit that slims my wide hips and flashes just a sliver of my soft tummy. Its navy with sharp pinstripes that make my legs look long and draw attention away from my busty chest.

  “Almost look like a lady who belongs in the corner office, Sloan.” I wink at my image and fluff my thick honey-blonde hair, loving the new edgier cut.

  Part one of embracing what I want: landing that promotion. Busted my ass at Morningstar Mass for the past five years as an intern and then as a junior ad exec. Almost two years—and ten projects with my name attached—later and I am eyeing that corner office with a view.

  Our entire firm knows a senior spot is open because Maxwell Morningstar retired. Bastian Morningstar—Maxwell’s only son—took his seat at the head of the board and vacated that sweet spot in the corner office and his brand marketing manager title.

  A title I want and have damn well earned.

  Today may not be January first, but my new year starts now. I meet with Bastian at ten-o’clock and I won’t leave his new office until I know I’ll be taking up permanent residency in his old one. Making me his right-hand man. Or woman, as it were.

  Working side by side with Bastian Morningstar is a win-win situation. Bastian is brilliant, daring, and ambitious. Also happens to be painfully gorgeous and effortlessly sexy. I absolutely adore him.

  Too bad he has no fucking clue.

  At nine-fifty-five, I pause at the front desk as his secretary Cindi glares up at me with disdain. Woman hates me. Before I can speak, I feel him. Oh yes, I feel him before his door even swings open.

  “Cindi. Sloan will be and I don’t want us disturb... oh, Sloan. Hey.” Just a casual greeting. A single syllable sends heat rocketing through me.

  Eyes clashing with his, neither of us move for long moments. Bastian is tall with silky black hair, piercing blue-green eyes that crinkle when I get him to smile, a full mouth that pouts when he doesn’t get his way, a strong jaw and a perfect nose.

  His white shirt is crisp and stretches across his broad chest and his hands hang loose in his pockets. I try not to notice his thick thighs and the way his zipper always looks a bit snug but—as if often the case—I fail.

  “Hey. Mr. Morningstar.” I flick my eyes away the second I can manage and straighten my shoulders again.

  Yes, we work together often. Early mornings and even some late nights—hell even a few weekends. We have seen each other at our best wowing clients and at our worst working exhausting hours. Yet every single time I see him it feels like the first time we met five years ago. When I felt myself come alive.

  “Sloan. I am ready for you.” Bastian cocks his head as his mouth quirks into his signature smirk.

  I am never ready for him.

  Despite being a smart woman who knows men like Bastian do not choose women like me, I can’t shut off what he makes me feel. And, Bastian makes me feel everything. Things no other man has ever made me feel.

  “I am ready, Mr. Morningstar.” I lift my chin as my shoulders square and I don’t miss his smirk. Bastard.

  “Mr. Morningstar, now? Since when, Sloan?” Suddenly he’s right behind me closing his door. I don’t miss the click of the lock, either.

  Bastian presses close enough I feel the brush of his suit against the back of my thighs. Twisting my hands nervously in front of me, I close my eyes as I take a calming breath. Bad idea. I breathe in Bastian and can’t help the little sound of contentment I make.

  Seems he hears it too because he lowers his head, his words hot against my neck.

  “Don’t call me that, Sloan. Don’t be like the others. Treat me no different today than you did yesterday.” I wince a little because I wish it were that simple.

  Yesterday we were laughing in this very office about a client’s ridiculous demands that we were having fun denying. Today is different. Today I have to show him I am worthy of the title I so desperately want.

  “I... I can’t. Not today.” I jump when he drops his hands at my shoulders and presses closer.

  “Maybe not. Maybe I don’t want you to. Truth is, I have absolutely no desire to treat you like I did yesterday.” I frown as I twist to ask him why.

  Bastian slips his hands down my arms as he stares down into my eyes. I know I should move. Break out of this strange almost-embrace. I can’t. Looking up into his midnight blue eyes, I can’t move. I can barely breathe let alone consider physical action to separate me from him.

  “What is... what is this? What do you mean?” I cock my head as I stare up at him on confusion. And then his hand touches the bare skin between my jacket and my skirt and I jump away. Hot angry tears flood my eyes as I twist to face him.

  “Sloan, don’t.” Where he touched my skin flames with heat and I’m sure it’s a mix of shame and phantom pain.

  “Don’t touch me. Not there. What am I here for? Why are you being so... strange?” I rub away at the sting in my skin as he closes the distance between us.

  “Had to hold the interview, Sloan. Don’t mean to scare you and I don’t want you to think this has a single fucking thing to do with the job. Come here.” Again, I frown, utterly confused by how desperate he sounds, by the rough rasp of need in his voice. And yet, I obey him.

  I close the fe
w feet of distance between us. Tipping my head back, I watch his eyes as his hands come out again. Cupping my hips, he tugs me against him and we both make sounds as I’m brought tight against all his hardness. All of it. Including the weight between his legs that he notches between my thighs.

  “What is happening? Why are you touching me? Do I not get the interview I was promised?” Unable to stop myself, I wrap my hands around his thick biceps and feel his body flex beneath my touch.

  “Don’t need it, Sloan. Had the job before I even left it if you need to know. Father chose you knowing he’d be leaving soon. It was always going to be your job. And,” Lowering his head, he catches my fleeting gaze, his voice going impossibly low.

  “Touching you because I can now. Not being able to touch you has driven me fucking mad. Probably ought to be careful but I’ll risk it.” My head tips back further as I gaze up at him in a foggy haze of lust and confusion.

  What. The. Shit? Is this real life?

  “Make me understand, Bastian. Please.” My voice is silky and heated, sounding unlike me and he groans, lowering his head until his words breathe hot against my mouth.

  “Sloan Walsh, I have wanted you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you.” Shaking my head, I push at his firm chest, even as my hands clutch at him.

  “No. No. Not funny. Nothing about this is funny, Bastian. Don’t do this to me. Please, don’t.” Bastian growls and twists to lift me atop his desk. I gasp and my legs lift as he shoves between them.

  “No, Sloan, nothing at all funny about how bad I want you. How it’s driven me crazy working with you and wanting you every single day for the last five years. Nothing funny about waiting for the right moment to take you. It’s been hell, beautiful. A delicious hell that I am so fucking lucky to have endured. My old title and that corner office were yours before today and will be yours after. Even if you don’t want me too. But I think you do.” Bastian lowers his head as his eyes watch mine. I gasp into his mouth as he drags his lips over mine gently.

  Just once. Not even a kiss, really. Barely brushes his lips against mine but it feels like touching a live wire. Bastian growls and yanks my head back as I press closer, legs closing around his waist, arms yanking at him. I want to feel the weight of him against me, want to wrap myself around him.

  “Jesus. Is this real life?” I moan as his tongue licks at the shape of my mouth and his hips rock against me.

  “It can be. Take the day. Go home and celebrate your promotion. It’s yours, Sloan. It was always yours. Honestly, I was always yours too. I want you to think about being mine. If you want me, come back tomorrow and tell me. Can you do that for me, baby?” I almost combust as he licks at my lips again and calls me baby as he thrusts his body against mine.

  Um, yeah, I think about that all the time, actually.

  “Yes... I can. I can do that.” I whisper it against his lips as I steal another almost-kiss.

  “Tomorrow, baby.” I whimper as he breaks away before setting me on my feet.

  I spend the rest of the day doing just what he asked. What I have done almost every night for five years, honestly.

  I think about being Bastian’s and him being mine.

  Sloan

  An answer for Bastian is obvious before I leave his office. I want him, too. Have wanted him every single day for five years. Self-doubt is all that forces me from his office without shouting an answer and letting him bend me over his desk.

  Once I get home, I am faced with another reason I didn’t answer him. In the form of a knock at my door and a reminder of why I made my resolution in the first place.

  Time to embrace myself. All of myself.

  “Sugar Tits!” Beaming at me with a bottle of wine my best friend London shouts her usual hello.

  And oh, how the plot thickens.

  London launches herself at me and I catch her with an arm around her waist. I hold tight as I close the door after her, my face in her thick blonde hair. It’s silky soft in waves that tumble down her back and smells like cookies.

  I relish her softness as she presses close, her pert little tits rubbing against mine. London rocks a little side to side and I groan a little as her nipples rub against me. As always, need I only feel for one other person claws at me.

  Back in college, London was the first girl I ever kissed. Blamed it on too much to drink. Until later that night I realized neither of us had needed drinks to tangle tongue and feel one another up. We hadn’t drunk at all.

  Over the year’s history has repeated itself a few times.

  Now it’s only after we make sure we get a little tossed. Tossed enough London climbs into my bed with liquor as the reason we never have to talk about it the next day. It’s never more than some kissing and a little touching.

  Truth is, I stop because I want more.

  Spent the past five years tortured over who I want to fuck more. My sexy best friend or my sexy boss.

  Part two of embracing what I want: admit to myself I am in love with two people.

  “Bastian gave you the promotion, I assume?” London kisses my mouth gently and I moan, shoving at her hips even as I drag her closer.

  “Yes. Gave me something else too.” I take a deep breath as I shove away from her completely.

  “Oh? Gave you that long-dick at last, did he?” London knows how I feel about Bastian—of course, she does—and has been supportive every single moment I’ve pined over him. Until this moment. Something fierce flashes in her pretty green eyes.

  “You know about our resolution pact? The Alpha Alpha Mi pact?” I take the wine from her hands to pace to the kitchen and pour us a glass.

  “I did, Joy told me about it. She snagged a sexy Santa recently, did you hear?” London giggles and I feel it work its way through me. I don’t react to her laugh the way a friend should.

  “Told me something about a hot, filthy Santa, too. I made a resolution for myself, London.” I take a deep breath, down a huge swallow of wine and prepare to be daring.

  “Oh! Tell me, tell me, Sugar Tits.” London claps her hands as excitement lights her up. Jesus, she’s beautiful.

  “Embrace myself. Decided to embrace myself and my flaws.” My resolution—and honestly that half glass of wine—make me braver than usual.

  London watches me as I strip out of my clothes. Nude, I pass a hand over my side where my scars are the worst as tears sting my eyes. London lets out a sound and I reach out, taking her hand.

  “These don’t make me who I am, but for a long time I thought they did. I thought it was why I never grew close to anyone. Truth is I didn’t let myself grow close to someone because the people I wanted closest.... already were.” I don’t know if I am making sense as I press her hand to my side and trace over the scars.

  Ten years ago, I went out with friends to have a good time. Instead, we ended up in a ditch in a burning car. I lost two of my best friends and walked away scarred for life. In more ways than one.

  “Sloan... you are absolutely gorgeous. Never think different.” I pause the pass of her hand beneath my breast. Holding her eyes, I draw her hand up over my breast and hiss as her thumb skims over my nipple.

  “How do you mean it when you say that to me? Do you mean it the way I do? When I tell you in the dark how beautiful you are and how badly I want to taste you?” London slides off the counter and the air crackles between us as she looks into my eyes.

  “I don’t come to you in the dark for no reason, Sloan.” Emboldened by her admission, I reach a hand between us to undo the buttons of her sweater. Unsnap her jeans and step away.

  “I do want to taste you, London. I want to make you come in the dark as you tell me you want to taste me too.” London shudders and tips her head back as my hands shove at her top.

  “You are the only woman I ever wanted to touch like this. I never want to stop in the dark either but... I can’t lose you, Sloan. God, I want you though. I want you so bad.” London’s eyes glow bright green as she watches my hands shove at her j
eans.

  We move backwards to the table behind us as London drops her clothes. Jesus, she’s gorgeous. Strong thighs and curvy hips, pert breasts that I reach out and fill my hands with. A tiny strip of blond hair above a pretty pussy that makes my mouth water.

  London is slender but fit and she presses against me as I reach the table. We both moan as we wind our arms around each other. Our skin glows beneath the early evening sun. No more kisses or touches in the dark.

  “Made a promise to myself. Dared to embrace how I felt for you both. I want you, London. I want him, too. I want you both for myself as selfish as that is.” I moan as her hands caress me; tweaking my nipples before sliding over my tits and between my legs.

  “I want you too, Sloan. I think I always have. Promise me I won’t lose you.” I lift her atop the table to step between her legs, both of us whimpering as we rub against one another.

  “You won’t lose me, London. I love you both. God, I really do love the both of you.” It’s freeing to say it out loud—that I truly love them both.

  Taking London’s full lips in a deep kiss, I give in to the desires I have held back for so long. Kissing her lips, her jaw, her tits, sucking at her nipples, biting at her shoulders. Fingers slide over her skin, through her thick hair, between her pussy and our moans mingle.

  “Been sharing you for five years, Sloan. You can love us both because you love big. Just love him different than you love me.” I tangle my hands in her thick hair and tug her against me, bending to lick at her mouth.

  “I do. Love you. London,” I yank her head back as my hand drops between her legs, finding her wet, “Wanted to fuck you for years. To taste your pussy and make you come. Couldn’t risk it because I love you so fucking much. We fuck right now we don’t go back to kissing in the dark. You want me to make you come?” Spreading her slit, I find her clit and rub slow circles.

  “Yes. Yes. Please! Make me come, Sloan.” London mewls before I slip my tongue into her mouth so I can do just that.