Fall Guy (A Youngblood Book), Reinhardt, Liz [best free ebook reader for pc .TXT] 📗

against me in a way that makes my dick stand at attention.

I've never been a slacker in bed. I've always kept the girls I was with satisfied. But it usually took me longer than ten minutes after sex to go rock hard again and feel this kind of complete, total need to get a girl back in bed.

The sex was amazing.

For me.

I kiss Evan and taste the salty brine of the pool water on her lips, and it occurs to me that maybe I'm the only one who found it all so damn amazing. Maybe she wasn't as turned on, wasn't as impressed.

I told her before that it didn't matter to me how many guys she'd been with before me, and that stands. But I never considered the fact that I might not measure up.

It occurs to me that I said the forbidden fucking word when we were done. The one I never got around to saying to Lala. The one I was pretty convinced I'd only truly feel for my family and maybe my wife after years and kids and all the things that grow that feeling in you for someone.

Evan sure as hell didn't say it back.

"You had a good time?" I fish.

Evan's smile is impish. "Beyond good."

She wraps her long legs around me and I hold her, weightless in the water, her dark hair wet and tangled on my skin and hers.

"As good as you’ve had with anyone else you've been with?"

The question buzzes quietly in the night air between us. She unwinds her legs from around my body and swims away from me, her feet kicking together under the water like a mermaid's tail. I watch her dive, and when she comes back up, she's smiling.

But it's not a smile I completely believe in.

"Do you want to race me? I bet you're slow in the water. Like a manatee." She winks at me.

I am a slow swimmer. I learned to swim in the ocean where it made sense to always take my time, do things at a speed that ensured I wouldn't wind up in the middle of a rip-tide, half-drowned with no way back to shore.

"You wanna answer my question?"

"Don't."

The one word weighs heavily between us.

I try to let it go. It's just that this one night we have right now rocked me to my core, and even though we've made a silent pact to live in this moment, I want to know there are going to be more. Many more.

I shouldn't be asking for anything more from her. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting more than I deserve and more than I have a right to. I want it all with Evan.

"Why not?"

I swim after her, slow and steady, and manage to catch up even though she darts around fast, because Evan ricochets in seven different directions while I keep one focused course.

"You said you wouldn't. This isn't the time. I don't want to talk about it. You said it didn't matter, and if it doesn't, seriously, you wouldn't be asking."

All her reasons tumble out as she trails her fingers through the water, leaving ripples that will eventually touch me.

"Are we doing this all wrong?"

My words make her lift her eyes, wide and light with shock.

"Are we?" She leans back, and her naked, wet body stops every thought that was previously making the rounds in my head. She cranes her neck to look at the smattering of stars in the night sky. "When I was in middle school, I used to play this game with myself. It was called Never, Always, Sometimes."

She tilts her head back, and her dark, silky hair pools on top of the water in twisted circles.

I let my body float closer to hers.

"Did this game have rules?"

"Yep. I would choose three things I really wanted. And then I would force myself to put each thing into one category." She dips her face down until the water is right underneath her nose, and her eyes reflect the lights shining from the walls of the pool. She pulls back up. "Wanna play?"

"Probably not." I reach out for her, but she backs away. "Alright. How do we play?"

"We'll each pick three things for each other. Then we just put them in the right slot. Ready?"

I nod, but I'm so far from ready, it's unreal. I have a feeling this is going to end very badly. The expression on her face is apologetic for a flash, then it goes hard with grim determination.

"Three things you love." She holds up three fingers, then folds down her middle and ring finger, leaving up her index finger. "Your family." My heart picks up its pace. She's playing with fire and she knows it. She raises her middle finger. "Church." I wonder if that one's my freebie, and hold my breath, waiting for the next option. Her ring finger goes up. She opens her mouth, blinks slowly and says, "Friends."

I know it's just a reprieve, and I know the point of giving me these three options is to prove just how hard it is even when it's down to three relatively easy choices.

"Family is my 'always,'" I say, and I catch the tight jerk of her head as she nods, lies on her back, and floats in the water. The way the little droplets run from her nipples down the heavy swell of her tits makes my mouth water. "Uh, friends is my 'sometimes.' And, don't you dare tell my grandmother, but, church would be my 'never.'"

I run one finger from the top of her big toe, down the bottom of her heel, and she gives a shiver.

"You just give up on God like that?" She pulls her foot back with a splash, bobs to a vertical position, and swims a few feet away from me, asking over her wet shoulder, "Never? You would never set foot in church again? This game only works if you really think hard about what never means. Could you go your