CHAPTER 46: THE HEAT BETWEEN US WAS NEVER JUST A DARE

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The air in the living room had shifted. Heavier. Warmer. Every glance, every laugh now carried tension beneath it—unspoken, loaded.

The bottle stopped spinning. Again.

"Ren," Reina smirked, brushing her hair over one shoulder. "Dare."

I didn’t even pretend to hesitate anymore. "Go on."

"I dare you to French kiss me for ten whole seconds," she said. "No pulling away. Touch me like you mean it."

The silence was deafening.

I stood and walked over to her, offering my hand. She took it, rising slowly.

I didn’t count the seconds—I lost track the moment my lips crashed into hers. Her body pressed against mine, soft and eager. My hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips as her fingers tangled in my hair. The kiss wasn’t just deep—it was raw, full of tension we weren’t even pretending to hide anymore.

When we finally separated, Reina looked flushed. Satisfied.

The circle had gone quiet.

"Damn," Mei whispered. Ayame didn’t say a word. Elira’s eyes were unreadable.

I sat back, heart thumping.

Reina spun the bottle next.

It landed on me. Again.

"Seriously?" I muttered.

"Ren," Sora said before Reina could speak. "Dare."

My head snapped toward her.

She never asked for anything.

"I dare you to kiss me," she continued, still looking at her phone. "Like you kissed her."

Eyes widened around the room.

I stood. She stood. Her phone was finally set aside.

Sora didn’t flinch as I stepped closer. Didn’t move when my hands came up to cup her cheeks. Her lips were cool, almost teasing.

But the kiss... was something else entirely.

She pulled me in, surprisingly assertive—tilting her head, deepening the kiss until we forgot we were being watched. Her body pressed against mine, hand sliding under my shirt for just a second before pulling away.

Then she sat down like nothing happened.

The bottle spun. Again.

Mei this time.

It stopped on Leo.

She smiled faintly. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he said quickly. "Obviously."

"I dare you to kiss Elira’s hand," Mei said, her voice layered with something sharp. "Gently. And nothing more."

Leo blinked. "...Just her hand?"

"That’s the dare."

He did it. Stiffly.

Elira didn’t react.

The tension snapped tighter.

Leo spun. It landed on Rin.

"Truth," she said before he could speak.

He looked frustrated. "Fine. Truth."

"What do you think of Reina?"

She relaxed. "She’s hot. Obviously. And fun."

Everyone heard the not like the others in her tone.

Reina smiled, but there was something tight behind it.

Rin spun next. The bottle landed on me. Again.

Of course it did.

"Ren," she said slowly, "I dare you to carry Ayame. Pick her up like a bride, kiss her, and romance her like she’s yours."

My breath hitched.

I stood again.

Ayame didn’t need prompting—she walked into my arms willingly.

I lifted her easily, one arm under her knees, one behind her back. Her hands went around my neck, her legs curled close to my waist.

We were too close.

I kissed her.

Not rushed. Not clumsy.

Deliberate.

My tongue traced hers slowly, hands roaming her waist, her thigh, the edge of her top. She squirmed slightly against my chest, breath coming quicker. My lips left hers only to find her neck—kissing, nipping lightly—before I pulled back just enough to see her flushed face.

The room was silent.

I set her down gently.

"Sheesh," Rin muttered.

Akane looked away.

Leo was stone silent.

I sat back down, trying to calm my heart.

"Alright," I said, trying to shift the mood, "rules are rules. No skipping your dare unless you’re drinking."

I gestured to the cabinet behind me. Unlocked it. Pulled out a black-glass bottle and poured into a shot glass.

The scent hit instantly—brutal, bitter, lethal.

"That’s not vodka," Mei said, recoiling. "What even is that?"

"Russian nightmare," I replied. "Home-brewed. One sip, and you’re either fearless... or hospitalized."

The game continued.

Mei was dared to let me give her a shoulder massage for one full minute. She groaned in exaggerated pleasure just to mess with the others.

Leo watched it all, jaw clenched tighter and tighter.

He spun again. Landed on Ayame.

"Dare," she said coldly.

"I dare you to sit on my lap for one minute."

She blinked.

Then shook her head. "Nope."

"C’mon, it’s not even—"

"No."

She grabbed the glass. Drank.

Coughed.

Then leaned on me. "Make me forget I drank that."

I didn’t hesitate.

The game was heating up. Not just because of the dares—but because the walls between us were starting to melt. Jealousy, rivalry, attraction—it was all bleeding into the same space.

And the bottle kept spinning.

And spinning.

And I was at the center of it.

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Kaito was dared to dance with Sora.

She stood slowly, still chewing her gum, her phone abandoned on the cushion. "Fine. But no weird moves."

Kaito smiled a bit too eagerly. He stepped close, tried to guide her by the waist.

She barely moved.

One stiff shuffle. A bored sway of the hips. She looked like she was calculating bullet drop in Free Fire, not sharing a moment with a guy.

But even that mild contact—his hands on her sides, his eyes lingering where they shouldn’t—irked something in me.

I masked it with a sip of soda, but the flicker was there. Sharp. Irrational. Mine.

He gave up halfway through, throwing his hands up. "She dances like a statue."

Sora sat down without a word, her expression unreadable. I met her eyes briefly.

She looked away.

The bottle spun again. Landed on Ayame.

Mei grinned. "Alright. Ayame. Who’s the best kisser in the room?"

The fire-haired swordswoman blinked. Slowly. "That’s a loaded question."

"Truth or drink," Mei sing-songed.

Ayame’s eyes flicked toward me for half a heartbeat.

I noticed. Of course I noticed.

But then... she reached for the glass.

Seriously?

The moment she downed the brutal alcohol, her entire body reacted. She choked, coughed, tears brimming in her eyes as she wheezed.

"You... evil man..." she rasped.

"Should’ve just said ’Ren,’" I muttered, trying to keep it playful. But my heart wasn’t quite in the tease.

Because the truth was... I wanted her to say it. Not just because it would’ve stroked my ego—but because that flicker of doubt that she might not have chosen me, even in a game, was maddening.

She threw a pillow at me, and I caught it one-handed, smirking.

But beneath the grin, something coiled low in my stomach.

Every time one of the girls laughed a little too hard at Leo’s comment...

Every time Kaito’s gaze lingered where it shouldn’t...

Every time someone else dared them to do something—

—I felt it.

Jealousy.

Not the petty kind. Not explosive rage.

Something deeper. Quieter. Possessive.

It crept in, especially when I saw the way they looked at the girls.

My girls.

No one had claimed them, not officially. But that didn’t matter.

Because the truth?

They were already claimed.

Even if they didn’t realize it yet.

And if this game kept pushing them into someone else’s arms, even as a joke—I wasn’t sure how long I could keep pretending to laugh about it.

The bottle spun again.

My smile stayed.

But my eyes were sharper now.

Watching. Waiting.

Ready.

It clicked against the glass, slowing, slowing... until the neck pointed directly at Elira.

Ayame’s eyes gleamed.

No hesitation. No mercy.

"I dare you," she said, her voice deceptively sweet, "to straddle Ren on that couch... and make out with him. Deep. Full-on. Hands allowed. For... five minutes."

The room reacted all at once.

Mei gasped.

Sora muttered, "Oh, hell."

Rin blinked like she didn’t hear it right.

And I... froze.

Ayame just shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "What? I’m just curious. They did spend the night together, after all. Might as well give us a little preview of what we missed."

Elira’s gaze cut to mine. Her cheeks darkened immediately, but there wasn’t panic in her eyes—there was heat. Hesitation. And something else. Something... dangerous.

"I—" she started, but her voice caught. She licked her lips once, composing herself. Then: "Fine."

I blinked. "Wait—what?"

But it was too late. Elira was already moving, already rising from her cushion like a queen answering a challenge. Her white shorts clung to her hips. That silky, sleeveless top of hers swayed as she walked toward me, eyes locked onto mine.

The room fell to a hush.

She climbed over the coffee table with feline grace, settled one knee on either side of me—and lowered herself onto my lap like she belonged there.

Because, gods help me, maybe she did.

My breath caught.

"Elira—" I whispered.

"Hush," she said, and cupped my face.

And then she kissed me.

Hard.

Her mouth crushed against mine, soft and warm and hungry. There was no pretense, no testing—just raw want. I felt her fingers thread into my hair, tugging slightly. Her hips pressed closer to mine. Her chest flattened against me.

And everything else melted away.

I responded before I could stop myself—before I even wanted to. My hands found her waist. Then her back. Then up, trailing the curve of her spine. Her skin was burning through her clothes, through mine. Every shift of her body made my thoughts slip further.

Someone coughed.

Someone else mumbled, "Uhh..."

But we didn’t stop.

I was caught—utterly and completely. The scent of her perfume, the rhythm of her breathing, the way she moved like she remembered everything from last night.

Because we had done this before.

Only now we had an audience.

Her hands weren’t innocent, either. They slipped under the hem of my shirt. Grazed my abs. Trailed lower. Her body rocked against mine in a rhythm that threatened to break me.

"Okay—uh—timer, someone?" Rin stammered.

"Three minutes left," Sora deadpanned, still watching but clearly pretending not to.

Gods.

This was insane.

I knew I should stop. I knew the others were watching. But every time I thought about pushing Elira back... she pulled me deeper in. Her lips moved like she was making a point—like she was reminding them all that I’d already chosen her once.

Her hands grabbed mine. Placed them right on her hips. Daring me. Owning me.

And I didn’t pull away.

Not even close.

Somewhere in the haze, I heard Ayame whisper, smug as hell, "Yup. That’s exactly what I wanted to see."

But I couldn’t even glare at her.

Because Elira shifted again. And I forgot how to breathe.

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