The Dare Series

By Jordan Zacs

I dare you. That’s how this all started. They met by chance at the gym, started meeting for coffee afterwards and an occasional dinner. Then….. the dares commenced. That’s when the game got really interesting. These three books follow the lives of a group of women who, on the surface have very little in common. Lucy is the mother of 19 year old Mia but her marriage is falling apart, Julia has toddler twin boys, Savannah works in real estate, Sandy dabbles in investment banking, Olivia is a child care specialist and Echo is a paediatric nurse. All have secrets, hopes and dreams. Some bigger than others. In any other world they might never have met let alone struck up this unlikely friendship they share. But their lives become intertwined as they discover just how alike they really are and how daring their very sexy escapades become. Dare to Live, Dare to Reveal and Dare to Give will fill you with hope, provide great laughs and have you setting up your own dare group with a bunch of girlfriends, just to make things interesting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Sep 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664100893

Jordan Zacs

Jordan Zacs is a seventh generation Australian living in the Blue Mountains of Sydney, Australia. She is married and lives not only with her husband but a very demanding puppy. Jordan decided to leave the rat race and a very successful corporate career several years ago and now lives off her earnings as a professional sports person. She enjoys writing, gardening, boating and her impressive collection of red wines. But the one thing Jordan can’t live without is her Kindle.

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Copyright © 2020 by JORDAN ZACS.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 09/23/2020

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Book 1 – Dare to Live

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Book 2 – Dare to Reveal

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Book 3 - Dare to Give

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

The Dare Series

Book 1 – Dare to Live

Jordan Zacs

Chapter 1

T he sound of the slap resonated across the car park. Across the street. It was swift and unexpected for everyone. Lucy hadn’t planned it but it was effective just the same. Her spontaneous reaction had even surprised her just a little bit.

Fuck. Her hand hurt like hell.

It was throbbing and red. She had not anticipated the sting.

Fuck again!

Lucy shook her throbbing hand just a little before she pointed violently at Harry’s bulging eyes and threatened.

Don’t ever touch me again you sleazy bastard! her face inches from his.

Harry’s face exuded shock and confusion. His eyes like small black buttons on his pint sized head. He touched at his ever reddening cheek, very gingerly. And he was feigning exasperation, surprise and innocence, as if he’d done nothing wrong. As if he hadn’t touch Lucy at all.

He’d overbalanced and his tall frame was half hanging from a handrail located just outside the bar. His face beetroot red (not all that unusual considering his propensity to imbibe to excess) and Lucy’s handprint was white on his left cheek.

Someone was tugging at Lucy’s arm. Pulling her away from him. She wanted to spit in his eye as she clasped the front of her dress up to her chest with her left hand and pushed at whoever was touching her again with her right.

Never taking her eyes from Harry’s ruddy face, Lucy began to shakily retie the halter neck bow of her floral sundress. The one he’d pulled undone as he walked behind her at the sliding exit doors. The one he’d hoped would fall to reveal….what? Her boobs? Her torso? Her panties too? Now her glare was uncompromising. He’d wanted to embarrass her in front of everyone.

She’d pretty much achieved that on her own right now.

Harry had been ogling Lucy’s body all night, not that that was anything new. He did it to most women. Thought he was king shit. Loved himself to death. Classical narcissistic tendencies. He thought himself suave. Despite is wealth, he wore tailor made clothes, badly. His handlebar moustache was unkempt at the moment but he still thought he was god’s gift to women. Criticised everybody else’s appearance. Lucy stupidly thought that being his best friend’s wife might exempt her from the harassment. But over the years he’d proved her wrong time and time again.

He’d manipulate anyone to either get ahead or earn a buck. She’d given him the benefit of the doubt for years simply to keep the peace.

Not anymore.

She never thought he’d do something like that with his wife, father-in-law and Lucy’s own husband, only ten feet behind them but he’d surprised Lucy yet again. The man had no shame. He was the supposedly lovable larrikin that everyone wanted to be around and everyone constantly forgave his misdemeanours. And for that, he got away with so much.

He cheated on his wife, disenfranchised his children, was bordering on being an alcoholic. Ok he was generous with his money but hey he could afford to be. He was rich. And there in lay the real problem. Lucy’s husband had been his friend since they’d worked together in the early days and Glen admired Harry. That in itself should have told Lucy more about her own husband than she cared to admit. But she’d been blind to it. Thought she could change or at the very least manage it. How stupid was she to ever think that?

Like most guys, these two were friends through thick and thin. For Lucy, this was a very thin time. These days Glen and Harry didn’t see each other much. Business and family had intervened over time. But when they did reconnect, it was as if they were brothers. And Lucy had never wanted to be the one to come between them. Until now.

She finally had to admit to herself that she had been falling out of love with her man for the past six months or more. This was the straw and there should have been a camel’s back somewhere nearby.

She pulled away from Glen’s grip and stared at a husband she now felt she hardly knew. No that’s not true. He was a man that she knew was about to defend his buddy and not her honour.

Bastard Lucy hissed, not sure which one of these men to aim the curse at. And then Glen did it. His defence of Harry’s actions was swift.

He didn’t mean anything by it Lu. Calm down.

Back near the exit Harry’s wife was fussing over him as if he’d had a heart attack. And the bastard could have for all Lucy cared.

His father-in-law just leaned against his cane, shaking his head from side to side slowly, in disgust. Lucy liked Jarvis a lot and she felt that fondness was reciprocated. She was pretty sure his distain was aimed at Harry and not her.

She finished retying her dress behind her neck while her hand throbbed and she hoped to goodness that she hadn’t broken it.

Piss off dickhead Lucy threw the words over her shoulder at Glen as she hurried to where their car was parked.

Glen followed as she knew he would. Panic in his voice.

Hey calm down. You’re over reacting.

Really? Really? Lucy’s almost yelled in a high pitched voice as she swung around to look at Glen and then continued to walk with anger and purpose as fast as a woman in stilettos could walk.

Maybe she was over reacting. For a moment she paused in her mind, to assess the reasonableness of her reaction. No. She’d had enough. Harry had finally pushed one too many buttons and she felt justified in snapping.

Lucy’s voice was incredulous as she swung around to face her confused husband again, almost crashing into his broad chest. They were only fifty feet from where the commotion had begun. Her index finger poked his chest hard. It hurt badly again.

What was he trying to do Glen? Humiliate me? That’s ok with you is it?

Come on Lu. He was just trying to get a rise out of you.

Well it worked! I hope he is satisfied, she offered sarcastically over her shoulder as she turned and stumbled off again on shaky legs.

Glen had no words. Just tried to grab her upper arm. She pulled away.

Lucy had the car keys in her purse. Glen hesitatingly tried to follow but she got to the car well before him because as he followed her, Glen continually looked behind himself to see how Harry was doing. Clearly he was torn. Should he go with his wife of eighteen years or go back to Harry?

Arsehole.

Lucy drove home. Alone.

Chapter 2

Lucy

I t is over. Our marriage that is.

The events of tonight would be the catalyst for me taking the next steps. The past few years have been comfortable and convenient but this had been brewing in our marriage for well over twelve months. I have to admit the truth of it now. It is over. Has been for a little while. In my mind, at least.

The old cliché that Glen Carmichael and I had grown apart really didn’t apply. We’d never actually been soul mates.

We had dated casually in high school and a mistake one night left me sitting on my bed with a positive pregnancy test, shell-shocked. I’d been stupid enough to tell him about the baby and that I was keeping it with or without his help. He was handsome, popular and smart. I had always felt I’d been punching above my weight just going on a few dates and being with him that one night. We had married quickly at Glen’s insistence and settled into a marital routine. From the outside, we appeared happy. Both of us just seventeen years old and blissfully married. Or so everyone thought.

Sure it had been passionate and loving at the start but when I think back now we really hadn’t known each other well enough to have made that lifetime commitment. The arrival of our beautiful baby girl had cemented our relationship somewhat but other than Mia….well we were baseless. Mia was all that Glen and I had in common other than a wicked sense of humour and a desire to get ahead in life. And I guess we put all of our married energies into nurturing Mia to become a free thinking, intelligent and articulate young woman.

I’m sitting alone, castigating myself silently.

I should have analyzed our marriage sooner and saw it for what it was. Mia was the sole reason for staying together.

And now, with a glass of red in one hand and a box of tissues in the other, I’m taking the time to do just that.

Analyze what went wrong.

Lounging in one of the many luxuriously appointed living areas within our palatial home is something I’ve done rarely lately, but it feels somehow comforting. Knowing that Mia is away at university and will not be home for several weeks, also gives me comfort. I want to wallow awhile. Spare Mia the ugliness of the confrontation to come. And think about the justifications for leaving that I’ll no doubt have to explain painstakingly to Glen in the not too distant future.

It is the little things that add up to very big irreconcilable differences.

Glen doesn’t like to hold hands, doesn’t dance, doesn’t go to concerts or sports matches or the theatre or movies. Doesn’t kiss on the lips anymore for Christ’s sake. We make love when he feels like it, usually at night after he’s watched a sports program on TV. There is absolutely no spontaneity, no passion. No sex outside of the bedroom. No undressing each other with urgency. No yearning looks across a crowded room. No lazy bubble baths together. No flowers or chocolates. No wild weekends away. Perhaps that’s normal. Perhaps it’s a natural consequence of being together for so long.

And I suddenly realize that I want all of that and more. At my age? Can you believe that?

And Glen never, ever tells me that he loves me. Unless prompted. So I conclude, he doesn’t love me. Really. Never compliments me, never speaks of my accomplishments. Perhaps I’m being petty but Glen never wanted to share my passions in life. At the same time I also have to admit that he never stood in my way when I wanted to pursue an interest. And to his credit he never questioned my spending habits.

But Glen hates my music and I’m not really keen on his either. I’ve even gotten to the stage where I dislike the way he dresses, but I’ve stopped commenting. While I’ve kept in shape thanks to regular trips to the gym and a healthy tennis regime, not to mention the vitamins, Glen thought keeping fit meant walking the dog every other day. His excuse was that he worked long hours and to some extent I guess he did. To Glen, going to the doctor or a dentist is for wimps. And he’s homophobic, something I despise.

I’m sloshing wine around in my glass and pulling things out of my head at random as I rant to myself internally about all of the things that have bugged me for years and that I’ve never had the guts to confront. So I’m just as guilty for not trying harder to make this work.

Glen is dominated by his mother. Spineless when it comes to her. Well I’m about to prove her right. She said we wouldn’t last. And her crystal ball was accurate after all.

As I reminisce about the past eighteen years, more and more disgruntled feelings surface. I’ve kept them hidden deep down and now they are bubbling to the surface like an ugly lava flow, spewing from my mind.

We travelled away on holidays or weekends, so long as I organized them. Only had friends over to our house or met friends for dinner if I suggested it. Life just happened to Glen. Now that I really think about it the guy could live quite happily as a hermit. Whereas I need people around me and friendships and associations to feel alive. To debate with, to engage in intelligent conversation, to console with, to laugh with, to lament with.

My mind fluctuates from distain to love and back to distain again. An internal war. It almost feels like my skin is erupting inside of me and lumps and bumps are protruding and retracting from my body as I fight my demons. Positive verses negative. Black verses white. Likes verses dislikes. To stay or go?

Glen is a hard worker and a good father. Loves Mia to bits. And together we have built a successful security business. It pretty much runs itself these days. Business is booming and our staff are a great team.

He has never cheated on me (not that I know of anyway), and I’ve always been very loyal to him as well. Never really looked at another man. Perhaps I should have. Maybe that would have stirred some sort of passionate response in him. Who knows?

And he is certainly not violent. For that, all of my girl friends say I should be grateful. Occasionally he drinks too much beer and snores all night but hell, I sometimes do that myself, only with wine.

And now I am discovering, although I already knew as much, that Glen is a very loyal friend. He was more concerned about Harry than me. What does Harry have that I don’t, besides loads of dough? My gut is clenching and my eyes threaten and before I know it a tear trickles down my cheek.

I know in my heart that Glen will be devastated about how I feel and what I intend to do. He has absolutely no idea about how I feel. Have felt for some time. And there it is. That in itself explains so much about our fractured relationship because I’m sure I don’t know how he feels most of the time either. But I’m pretty sure this will hit him in the solar plexus. Because he believes that we are in love and were made for each other. He’ll be gutted. He will not understand it in the slightest. And most of our friends probably won’t understand this decision of mine either.

Lucy Carmichael I sigh my name out loud for no one to hear. As if it’s a thing of the past. I’ve felt bored, frustrated, unloved and unappreciated for some time.

Now I just feel empty and a bit mean.

It is over. Fuck!

Chapter 3

One Year Later

Lucy

I ’m standing at the kitchen counter watching my protein smoothie spin its arse off in front of me. Bits of strawberry, banana, honey and yogurt are flashing in circles, mesmerising me temporarily. I’ve just returned from my morning gym session and although I have a late start at work today, I still like to stick to a routine. I’ll catch the morning news on TV while drinking this so called breakfast and then get out of my sweats, shower and change into a crisp linen suit. Then I intend to meet the girls for coffee before venturing into the office.

I live in a single story villa on the other side of the city now. It’s spacious, without being cold. I love the light in here. It’s south-facing and best of all, it’s located right next to the beach. The furniture I’ve chosen is white, French country and classy. The rugs are luxurious and fluffy on beautiful polished wooden floors. And there is a bit of a contemporary boathouse feel to the place. I even have a great deck and small courtyard area to relax in on sunny days. I love it. It finally feels like me.

Glen ended up staying in our old house, over an hour away. He really should have sold it. It was much too big for two people, let alone one. However Glen just could not bring himself to accept what has happened and sadly I feel he was hoping I’d return someday soon. So I think he is hanging onto the house in the vain hope that we’ll resume our old life.

It is not going to happen. Not in my mind, at least.

True to form, Glen had thought it a joke when I explained my intentions and reasons for leaving. Then when I packed and left, he’d gone into shock and hibernation. Of course, all of our mutual friends rallied around him for support and the fridge was full of home cooked meals for several weeks.

Mia had also taken it hard. But over time this past year she’d come to understand my perspective and was dealing with it in her own way. She is still away at university, which makes it a little easier for her. She tends to visit me for one weekend a month and then Glen for another weekend in the month. Occasionally Mia and I get together in between these weekends for a lunch, coffee or a concert, but it’s a random thing. I’m pleased that she could see past her grief to realize that this was better for me, if not her father. And perhaps it’s my imagination, but she is becoming more and more beautiful every day. Her shoulder length hair is thick, blond and wavy. Her body is filling out nicely and she’s less stick creature and more of the voluptuous womanly type these days. I hope she meets a nice boy and settles down herself, soon.

I suspect that Glen won’t be alone for long anyway. He is a successful and good looking guy with an affable nature. The women are probably already flocking and fussing after him. I’ve tried subtly to obtain information through Mia, but the girl is steadfastly neutral and loyal to us both. Good on her. She makes me proud.

My mind is wandering to work issues as I stroke the neighbours visiting cat on my deck and watch the waves roll in. This smoothie slides down nicely.

I’ve spent most of the last six months building up a new event management business. I had worked in the industry when Mia started school, back in my mid-twenties, and loved it from the get-go. Staying in touch with my early contacts has paid dividends now. Just as I had been looking to get back into the working world, a respected friend in the business was looking for someone to partner up with, having just left her previous employer.

Call it fate, call it right time, right place, Samantha and I met up and hit the ground running. Business is booming and we work hand in glove together. Our skills complement each other’s and our business vision and passions match seamlessly.

I’m even fitter and thinner now, having lost a few pounds probably due originally to the stress of the marriage break-up but also because of my health and fitness regime. I feel so alive and vital again. Younger even. I’m probably in the best shape of my life and that’s saying something since I used to run track back in high school.

Not many of my old friends have stayed loyal. It is difficult since I don’t live locally to them anymore and it’s an effort to stay in touch. Truth be told they probably still don’t understand fully just why I left a seemingly happy marriage. Gradually over the past year, most of my old friends have drifted away.

Or maybe I have.

But I’ve moved on and made a new set of friends. My gym gal pals, as I like to call them, invited me to coffee one time and since then we all regularly get together for training sessions, coffees and dinners, sometimes a jog in the park or at the beach. They are a mixture of yummy mommies and professional career ladies with a couple of younger fit singles thrown in for good measure. An eclectic bunch that’s for sure.

Julia is a stay at home mom with two of the most adorable little twin boys, Noah and Levi. Her husband, Rowan, is tall and handsome and very reserved. Julia is not. And when she gets to the gym, without the boys, she will talk your leg off which leads me to believe that she is just a little lonely and more interested in the social networking than the fitness side of our group.

As an investment banker, Sandy is closer to my age and as far as I know has never been married. She is bigger on the coffee side of the group rather than the gym but she goes sporadically just because it’s a tax deduction or business perk. Her hair is dark, curly and always meticulous. She is long limbed like a high jumper and her skin is a deep honey brown. She glows.

Savannah is married to Josh and works as a real estate receptionist. She is in her late twenties. Sav has a lovely smile and beautiful jet black flowing hair. Her make-up is always impeccable and it only serves to accentuate her almost unnaturally white teeth. And she has some small and very discrete tattoos on one of her arms and I’m yet to get to the bottom of their meaning and significance to her. But I’m intrigued.

Echo is petite and willowy with soft blonde shoulder length hair. She is also pretty fit, like me. She works odd shifts as a nurse at the local hospital and she seems to move from department to department as the need requires. For the last few months she was in emergency but last week moved to the children’s ward and she seems most happy there. Not married and a little shy, Echo is reserved and thoughtful. I think she is about twenty five and she too always has her make-up perfect and wears brightest shades of deep red lipstick giving her a little bit of a Hollywood glamour look.

Olivia is vivacious and is a childcare worker who just loves kids. She is married to Jorge who is hunky and Swedish. I know she is thirty four and she has a boy and a girl. Hannah is twelve and Cody is nine and she would die for those kids. She is a very hands on mom. Kid activities seem to dominate her life in and out of work. How she finds any time for herself has me puzzled but she is like a whirlwind and most often is the person who gathers us all together for some activity or another. I think she was the one who started the Dares. She has created a monster with a life of its own now. The Dares have become a full on contest to see who will do and who will cave. It’s war! And it’s so much fun.

At thirty six, I think I’m one of the oldest but also one of the fittest. Only because for the first six weeks after my split from Glen, I had nothing meaningful to do other than work my stress and frustration off at the gym while I planned how the rest of my life might look. It’s stood me in good stead for how I now run further and faster than most of my buddies and I crunch and lift at an equal level to them, which makes me just a little bit proud.

Pride comes before the fall though. I recently noticed some grey hair creeping into my honey blonde locks. So I’ve had a change of image and cut my long hair, going for a shorter and spiked tousled look with blonde foil highlights. I’m trying to convince myself it’s not a mid-life crisis or an attempt to look younger and more hip, but it probably is. The girls say it makes me look both younger and more cheeky, which makes me chuckle inside. I can live with that. Mutton dressed up as mutton perhaps. It is certainly easier to look after when I’m running late for work.

The new me has even been brave enough to venture out on a few dates with a couple of guys very casually. But no one has rocked my boat. Yet.

Chapter 4

Lucy

W ell except for the surfer guy.

He was something else. Our time together was hot and…. fleeting, unfortunately. I find myself smiling just thinking about him and how he made me feel. Soooo good in bed. I realised what I’d been missing out on for all of these years, thanks to him. And just like that I’m daydreaming about him.

It was never going to last. He was so much younger than me but god it was great for a week or two.

I’d seen him on the beach occasionally, all tanned and built with blond messy hair. Covered in sand and salt and droplets of sea rolling off of his oiled, glistening skin. And a smile so white it would brighten the gloomiest day.

We hadn’t even really acknowledged each other officially. So you can imagine my surprise when he stepped between Samantha and I at the bar of the surf club just as we were wrapping up our regular Friday evening business meeting.

Sam and I both look confused and bemused for a moment. Then he introduced himself.

Hi, I’m Reed. I’ve seen you down at the beach.

I was stunned into silence at first and then the old brain kicked into gear. He’s actually talking to me. I’d assumed Samantha knew him somehow.

Oh yes. I’ve seen you there. Very intelligent Lucy, I say to myself, as I realise he just said that very thing.

I’m Lucy and this is my work associate Samantha.

And then there is an awkward silence as we all smile stupidly, me asking myself silently what he wants and Sam looking quizzically at me, prompting me with her eyes to say something, anything.

So ….what brings you here Reed?

I realise slowly why I didn’t recognise him immediately. He’s got clothes on.

Well … not board shorts I mean. He’s dressed in nice dark blue chinos and a white polo shirt that displays his tanned arms beautifully.

I’m here often he smiles. I was just over there with some buddies when I saw you and realised I’d seen you at the beach once or twice.

I’m still smiling like an idiot. So I take another sip of my white wine and keep smiling.

He’s not exactly ignoring Sam but his focus is definitely on me and I’m confused.