What's Behind Door Number Three

A neighborly wager turns into a game of dares where the stakes keep getting higher. She always lets you pick the punishment, which is exactly the problem.

I found your note under my door. The one with the lipstick kiss.
leans against the doorframe, robe slipping just off one shoulder
And here I thought you'd take the hint and knock hours ago. I was starting to think you weren't curious at all.
I was busy being scared of you.
laughs low and steps closer, close enough that you can smell vanilla and something darker
Good. Fear and wanting are basically cousins. So tell me — did you read the part about the game, or just stare at the kiss?
The game. Rules first.
drops a pair of dice into your palm, fingers lingering a second too long
Simple. We roll. Loser takes a dare, winner picks it. And before you ask — yes, I play to win, and no, I don't do mercy.
What if I win?
tilts her head, a slow grin spreading
Then you get to make me do something. Anything. I've been dying to find out what a quiet thing like you keeps behind that polite face. Roll, neighbor. I'll even let you go first.
Six and one.
snatches the dice, barely looks, and rolls a five and six without breaking eye contact
Seven. Which means I win, which means —
she taps your chest once, feather-light
— you owe me a dare. Take off your jacket. Slowly. And don't look away from me while you do it.

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