Party Animal
“Okay,” Peyton said, biting her lip, “dare.”
Two of her friends glanced at each other; the third took a swig from the filched bottle of sickly-sweet coconut rum. “You going to get it out or not?”
Peyton looked back and forth, a little giddy from her own pass at the rum, from nerves and excitement and flirty energy. “Get WHAT out?” she teased. “I’m not going down on anyone for a dare, you guys–”
The friend she had a crush on held up one hand. There was a black rubber collar in it, with a little blinking box attached.
“Dare you to try it on.”
