Page 63 of Double Dared
“I’ve always wanted one,” Taylor said.
“You did?” I asked, rising a little to look at him, my torso leaning on my elbow. “What kind?”
“Something like this,” Taylor said, touching the round earring hanging from my ear.
“Silver will look good on you,” I said. “Gold would, too.”
He snort-chuckled. “You’re not buying me a gold earring, Harrison.”
“Silver it is,” I said. “And I’m not buying it.” He stood up, then walked over to the black box by the record player, where several rings, bracelets, earrings, and necklaces were left in a disorderly mess.
“What are you…?” Taylor asked, but stopped himself, sitting up all alert in the periphery of my vision. “It better be a clip-on.”
I laughed and found a silver earring just like the simple one I was wearing. I turned around and found that look of excited anticipation on Taylor’s face, the same one he had every time before he released his breath, relaxed, and took me into his body. Fearful, but only a little.
“Are we doing this?” he whispered.
“If you want to,” I said, handing him the earring.
He looked at it sitting in the palm of his hand. Taylor’s gaze flicked up to meet mine, then down at the earring again. “Will it hurt?”
“A little. Like a mosquito bite.”
He laughed. “That’s what they all say.”
“I pierced my own ears,” I said. “And under my tongue, too, when I was a teen.”
“No way you did that,” he said, looking at me in disbelief.
“I don’t have a reason to lie.”
“Do you have the equipment? The tools?” he asked, frowning.
I sucked my teeth. “I’m old-fashioned like that.”
Taylor laughed with me and pursed his lips after. He thought about it for a moment longer, then released a breath of air, relaxing into the idea as always. “Go for it.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He nodded firmly. “I’m sure.”
So I went to the bathroom, looked through my cabinet, and found sterile needles, cotton swabs, alcohol, and iodine. When I returned to the living room, I placed everything on the coffee table, poured plenty of alcohol into a small cup, and dipped the earring into it.
Taylor’s bare chest rose and fell steadily as he kept himself calm by the sheer power of his will. He could do that, I knew. He could control his breathing and become what he wanted to be.
So he was relaxed and confident, sitting up a little while I brought over a desk lamp and set it on the coffee table. “Sit here,” I said, folding my legs under my ass on the floor. We’d had sex in this spot once, the first time we’d done it.
Taylor sat down facing me. “If my ear falls off…”
“You’ll still have the other one. I have two tries.” I began to unpack the needle, and Taylor threw his head back and laughed out loud. “We don’t have to do it if you’re worried about my amateurish setup.”
“I’m not worried,” he said. And I believed him. “I want you to be the one who does it.”
My gaze moved swiftly to his eyes, holding the eye contact for a long moment, seeing the liquid warmth in his brown irises.
The act itself was swift and over before Taylor had had a chance to wince. The needle went in and out, the earring following its path, and the sting of iodine and alcohol made him frown more than the piercing of the soft flesh.
But it was the moment before it, and the moment after it, that I would forever have imprinted in my consciousness, a memory embossed before my eyes. Taylor looked away, leaning so that I would have a clear view and a good angle to pierce him, his gaze distant and searching the room, and then he flicked it all the way to the right, finding my eyes, and held his breath.
