Bad Intentions by Nacole Stayton Read Free Book Online Page A

then peer across the fire to catch a glimpse of him thrusting his jaw forward. Our eyes are momentarily caught in a cat and mouse game. I’m too enthralled to look away, and from what I’ve gathered, he’s too stubborn as well. His voice is tangled with suspense as he asks, “Truth or dare?” Everyone waits for my answer, but I’ve lost my voice.
    Light reflects from the moon above, glimmering over the darkness of his eyes. Wisps of dark brown hair curl against the collar of his white V-neck T-shirt. He exudes masculinity. Even from afar, I can see it. I can sense his commanding manner. I know he’s the king of secrets, and I yearn to know every last one of them.
    Humoring myself, I reply, “Dare.” My answer causes Ryle to press his lips together thoughtfully. His lids slide down over his smoky eyes, deep in thought.
    I pray he dares me to kiss him…with tongue.
    I don’t care that I sound like I’m twelve. Don’t judge me.
    My chest begins to rise and fall in anticipation. I take a calming breath as his eyes slowly slide open. Is it me, or was that the most seductive sight on the planet? I glance around. Yup. Just me.
    Ryle’s lips part, then he inhales and seals them shut again. I wish I were the air he’s holding in his mouth. “Do a back flip,” he says flippantly, sounding seemingly uninterested in daring me to do anything. I physically wince from the lack of passion I’d been desperately expecting.
    Either I am a royal idiot, or Ryle is a total tool. He’s given me no indication that he has an ounce of niceness living in that hollow chest where his heart should be, so I go with the latter. He’s a monstrous tool. And not the kind you rake your yard with.
    After five seconds—I know because I count them—I recover from the let down and mutter, “Okay.” I glance over my shoulder and spot a flat piece of land. Prancing over to the grassy area, I bend at the waist to remove my sandals and toss them to the ground. I look up and see everyone’s eyes on me, watching intently. This includes Naomi, who I’m sure is wishing I fail and fall flat on my rear. I may be a little past wasted, but I’m always on my A-game when it comes to gymnastics.
    Sober or not, I’m about to own this challenge.
    Tank nods in my direction, silently encouraging me. Without hesitation, I take off into a back handspring, round off and end in a fluent aerial. I land knowing that I nailed my dare. A feeling of pure excitement fills my body, just like before, when a judge would nod with approval after I performed. I am filled with glee as I stand there with my toes covered in wet, green grass. I flash a giant smile and then do something out of the ordinary. I curtsy. Then, after grabbing my shoes, I sashay back toward the group, where people are roaring. I feel like a million bucks. Scratch that. I feel like I just won a million bucks, and I bought all the puppies in every shelter in America. Yeah. It feels that damn good.
    I’m on cloud nine when I find my place back in the circle.
    “That was some insanely cool shit!” Some dude with chestnut dreads and a beanie shouts. Another one hollers, “How’s that for a simple back flip?”
    Tank grabs me in a sideways hug. Holding his drink in the air he boasts, “I didn’t know you were a backyard, athletic badass.”
    “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” I wink and sip the beer that he pushes in my hand. “That was just a little sample.”
    “What are you, a gymnast?” The shrill sound of Naomi speaking…taunting me…is a giant buzz kill.
    She’s like a gnat—invisible, always in your ear, and hard as hell to kill. It’s sad, because it was never my intention to gain any enemies on my first night here. Truthfully, I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt, but… she’s not making it easy. It’s safe to say we’re not going to be besties and bond over our mutual attraction to Ryle any time soon.
    “I was in a former life.” I brush off her