Reckless With You

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  In dirt. Dirty. Filthy.

  Wrong direction for my thoughts.

  I had seen her in a bathing suit before so I knew she had curves, but I hadn’t noticed them. No, I had told myself not to notice them.

  Because if I noticed them, then I’d want them.

  I would want her.

  And I couldn’t. She was my best friend’s little sister. Devin would not only kill me, he’d also probably castrate and do other horrific things to me.

  Not because he was an overprotective asshole, but because he knew me. I was good with women, great with them actually. I was kind, but I wasn’t in the market for a commitment. I knew what happened when you fell in love with someone too hard and too fast. You ended up getting married and having babies when you shouldn’t. You ended up doing stupid shit that got you killed and then sent your kid off to multiple foster homes.

  And then that kid, with asthma and night terrors of the times his parents were always drunk and high ended up in foster care until he was eighteen. Because nobody really wanted a kid with guaranteed high medical bills and night terrors.

  Yeah, that’s what happened when you stuck with one woman when you weren’t that type of person.

  I never cheated, never dated more than one woman at a time, but I did not need anything else.

  I was fine the way I was.

  And if I kept telling myself that, then maybe I would believe it.

  But it wasn’t like Devin’s parents were any better.

  Devin’s mom had cheated more than once, I remembered that much from Devin’s drunken rants when we were in college and getting drunk on cheap beer and grain alcohol.

  The Carrs’ dad had drunk himself to death, so we didn’t really get drunk all that often. We still didn’t. But there had been that one time with the grain alcohol. Never again.

  I held back a shudder, even as my hands tightened on Amelia’s waist.

  I really needed to get out of this bed.

  It was just…the moment I did that, she would wake up, and everything would change.

  No, it wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let it.

  Everything would be fine.

  Before I could think about anything more, though, she let out a groan. I froze.

  My hand was still on her waist, my cock still pressed against her butt. Maybe she wouldn’t notice. Perhaps she would think it was morning wood. Maybe I should, too. Yes, it was totally that. It wasn’t the inappropriate thoughts currently running rampant through my brain.

  “Tobey?” she asked, her voice sounding like sandpaper.

  Well. That put me in my place, didn’t it? Made sense, though. Didn’t it? Of course, it would be Tobey behind her with his cock pressed against her. Totally not me. Amelia and I weren’t even great friends. I was better friends with Devin. Amelia was just there. Like I was.

  I cleared my throat and slowly pulled my softening erection from her backside. Listening to the woman you were currently thinking dirty thoughts about saying another man’s name really wasn’t a turn-on.

  And, yeah, I was an asshole. But I had earned that title.

  “Not Tobey,” I said, trying to sound cheery and wide-awake. I was fine. Everything was fine.

  “Tucker?” she asked, frozen against me.

  “Yep. You fell asleep on top of me, and then I passed out. Sorry about that.” I quickly rolled out of bed, tapped her side as I did, and rose up on my feet. I was still dressed, even in my shoes, and figured everything was fine. She would get over this, like I would, and we wouldn’t talk about it again. And we would definitely not tell Devin. Hopefully, he hadn’t driven by at any point because my car was in front of her house. Dear God. Wouldn’t that be an interesting conversation if it happened?

  “Oh my God.” She sat up, her tank top askew so one breast was exposed, peeking its little nipple at me.

  Oh God, why was she making this so difficult?

  I closed my eyes and gestured with my hand at her chest after I’d cleared my throat.

  “You better uh, fix yourself.”

  She looked down, or at least I think she did, I didn’t really know since my eyes were closed and I was so not peeking. And then she laughed. “Well, that’s just fine, isn’t it?” I heard her rustling the sheets, and then she laughed. “You can open your eyes now.”

  She was standing in her tank top, perfectly covered up, and now in shorts. I didn’t know where she had found them, but at least she was fully dressed.

  “So, yeah,” she said softly. Then she looked at my face, her eyes wide. “You have a red spot on your forehead. Did I do that?” She rubbed her own head and winced.

  “Yep. You hit me really hard with your head as you sneezed. That’s how we both ended up like we did. But I’m fine. And you’re going to be okay. Right?”

  “I think so.” She looked so lost, I felt bad. So, I walked around the bed and opened my arms for her. See? Everything would be fine. We could be casual about this.

  “Come here, talk to Uncle Tucker.” That wasn’t creepy at all.

  She looked wary but still took a few steps forward before wrapping her arms around my waist. She rested her head on my chest and let out a sigh. I hugged her, but not too tightly. Nothing weird. I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. And I sure as hell didn’t want to feel any more uncomfortable than I already did.

  “I’m sorry.” She whispered the words, and I didn’t know what she was apologizing for. Probably a little bit of everything—and nothing.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her away so I could look at her face. “Things happen. You feel any better?”

  “I have a headache.”

  “Well, that was a lot of tequila. You tossed most of it, and I gave you some aspirin, but you’re going to feel a little bad today. But that’s fine. You’re allowed to be a little bad once in a while.”

  “I’m sorry you had to take care of me.”

  “It’s what I do, Amelia. We’re family.” I smiled as I said it, knowing that I’d just had very non-family-type thoughts about her earlier. But I wasn’t going to think about it. Because if I did, things would only get weirder.

  “If you say so. But I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to face you again.”

  “You’re facing me right now.” I leaned down and smacked a kiss on her lips. Then grinned. “Now, go take a shower and get to work. You have things to do today, young lady. And so do I. You’re going to be fine. You don’t need to think about that asshole ever again.”

  “Everyone keeps calling him names.”

  “Well, we love you. It’s what we do. Now, chop-chop. Get to work.” I pushed her towards the shower and then headed out of her bedroom without a backward glance. Because if I looked, I was going to think of her in the shower. And I really shouldn’t do that.

  I quickly cleaned up a little bit of the tequila mess from the night before since she didn’t follow me, and then I headed to my car, knowing that I needed to rush if I was going to make it to work on time. People relied on me, and I needed to make sure I deserved that trust. After all, I was a radiologist, and I worked my ass off. I probably shouldn’t show up smelling like vomit and tequila or whatever else had stuck to me from last night.

  But I knew better. I didn’t smell like any of those. I smelled like her. And that was even worse.

  Hopefully, she would be okay. But even if she wasn’t, she had others to take care of her.

  I didn’t need to be that person.

  Thankfully, I didn’t live too far away, hence why I’d told myself it was okay to go and check on her last night.

  In retrospect, it had been a good idea because I had helped her. But I still didn’t know why I had gone in the first place. Maybe because everybody had seemed so worried about her. And I had seen that pity. I hated pity. As a foster kid, I’d gotten enough pity throughout my life. And everyone had looked at Amelia with a similar pity the other night. And I hadn’t liked it.

 
So, I wanted to be there for her, to check on her. Not to look down on her in any way. Because there was nothing superior about me. I only wanted to make sure that she was moving on and finding what she needed. Even if I didn’t know if that was my place.

  Sleeping in her bed while pressed up against her hadn’t been in the plans, of course, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not that it was a gift. It couldn’t be.

  Of course, as I got into the shower, my cock had a different idea.

  Everything was fine. I wasn’t going to think too hard about it. I would just go with the flow.

  It was okay to do this once.

  I quickly soaped myself up and grabbed the base of my cock, giving it a squeeze before sliding up and down my length.

  I imagined Amelia in with me, those firm tits of hers wrapped around my cock as I slowly slid between them, the tip resting against her plump lips as I did.

  I’d thrust slowly, one, two, three times. And then her lips would part, and her tongue would dash out, licking the seam.

  I had to hold myself back at merely the thought of that warm mouth enveloping me.

  And then she’d open her mouth more, and I’d slide my cock between those two tits a little harder, right into that open, accepting mouth.

  She’d hum along my length, swallowing me deep down into her throat. I’d be too big for her, so she’d have to wrap her hands around the base, squeezing me as she bobbed her head. But then I would take control. I’d wrap her long hair around my hand and tug. She’d wince at the slight pain, but then she would get wet because of it. She’d moan, opening her jaw a bit more so I could properly fuck her mouth, sliding down her throat as she took more of me. Wanted more. She’d dig her fingernails into my thighs and my ass, begging for more of my cock.

  And just as I was about to come, I’d pull out completely, bend down, pick her up by the thighs, and slam her onto my cock—one quick thrust that would send us both into orgasm.

  And then I’d keep her on me, set her on the ledge I built into my shower, and I’d pump in and out of her, hard and fast until we both came, the water going cold around me.

  Simply the idea of it, of her lips on mine, on my cock, of us touching, had me coming, my balls tightening as I spurted all over the shower wall. The water grew cold around me, like in my fantasy, and I quickly washed up, cleaning the wall as I did.

  I hadn’t come that hard by myself in a while, and it was a little disconcerting. But that was fine. Everything was okay.

  I finished my shower and dried off, knowing that I had to hurry if I was going to make it to work on time. I looked down at my phone, hoping that Amelia had texted saying that she was okay or something. Not that I wanted Amelia to text me. She wasn’t going to text me. Why would she?

  Instead, I saw that I had a missed call from someone. Someone from my past that I hadn’t seen in a while.

  Interesting. I hadn’t seen Melinda in a few years, and I wondered what she wanted.

  I knew she had moved to the other side of the city a while ago, and we had called it quits after a few nights together. It hadn’t been serious, but it had been fun.

  She hadn’t been for me, and I sure as hell hadn’t been right for her.

  I shrugged since she hadn’t left a message. I figured she would probably text if she really wanted something.

  No need to worry. I had other things on my mind. And the main one had to be work. Something I loved.

  It couldn’t be Amelia. It really couldn’t and shouldn’t be Amelia Carr.

  Chapter 5

  Amelia

  On a list of the top ten most embarrassing events of the past week, I wasn’t sure where I’d rank the thing with Tucker versus the one with Tobey. Both were at least a seventy, but which was worse?

  Showing the goods and professing my love for my best friend only to find out that he didn’t love me at all?

  Or getting so drunk that I nearly puked on my brother’s best friend before getting naked in front of him by accident and then practically sleeping on him for the whole night before calling him by another man’s name?

  Which was worse?

  There really wasn’t an answer.

  Because they were both horrible. And I didn’t want to face any of it.

  So, I’d work.

  And plan.

  And do anything that wasn’t thinking about my poor life choices.

  What I really wanted to do today was go out, get sweaty, and work. I wanted to be covered in dirt and just get shit done. Only we were nearing the holidays. And I lived in Denver fucking Colorado. That meant there was snow on the ground. And the earth was hard as ice. That was fine, I still had plenty to do considering that I’d added a greenhouse and other buildings onto my property. The frost wasn’t going to kick my ass.

  But, unfortunately, I couldn’t go outside and let the sun beat down on my face. Because while the sun was out, it was frigid outside. So cold, my bones ached at the thought of it. I wasn’t even old enough to have aching bones, but here I was, hurting. Because of the cold. It was fine. Mostly because I needed it to be fine. I needed everything to be okay.

  I might not be able to work outside, but I could work in my greenhouse. And get sweaty. And do all those normal things that usually calmed me. At least, I could try.

  So, I put on my work boots, tried to ignore the pounding in my head, and headed out to my truck.

  I had a few clients who needed some things done. Mostly maintenance on stuff they hadn’t winterized in time. While those clients used to be on contract, some of them had decided to terminate their contracts to see if they could do things on their own. And while I did my best to make sure everybody knew what they needed to do to keep plants alive, some people thought they had black thumbs, and then they proved to themselves that they had those black thumbs. I would help them get things fixed, and that was fine. I would teach them again, or I would just put them back under contract. Plants were life. They were literal life. Sometimes, things didn’t work out the way you wanted, and you needed a gentle helping hand. Or maybe even a firm one. I would figure it out, it’s what I did. And if I focused on work and what I needed to do there, I wouldn’t stress out about everything else as much.

  Or, at least that’s what I told myself.

  Because I really didn’t want to think about Tobey. Or Tucker. Apparently, it was my curse to make a fool of myself in front of men having names starting with T.

  I was such an idiot.

  No, I needed to stop degrading myself. People made mistakes. Then they got over them. I would get over this.

  Eventually. Maybe no more tequila, though. Ever.

  Yes, that was a saying that people used when they didn’t really mean it. But I was not going to drink tequila, ever again. At least not in those copious amounts. Because…dear God.

  “Time to get going,” I told myself as I pulled into my place. I’d spent a good chunk of change as well as some of the bank’s to afford this little piece of paradise, but it was worth it.

  I had my main building where people could come in for meetings and where I displayed a small showcase of what I could do. But my pride and joy was my greenhouse and the growing areas. Even though it was winter, I had things to do, and dirt to play with. Once I got dirty and had a little soil under my fingernails, I knew I’d be able to breathe again. I’d be able to bury all of the crap that had happened recently and just be.

  At least, I hoped so.

  Amelia’s Greens was technically closed for the day, and I didn’t have any appointments unless something came up later. That meant I could put in my earbuds and simply work.

  The heat slid along my skin as I walked into my greenhouse. The familiar scents of plants, potting soil, flowers, greens, and pottery filled my nose, and I smiled.

  This was home.

  This would make everything okay.

  And if it didn’t?

  Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t be drinking tequila to try and fix things.


  I let myself fall into my work for a good hour before I paused to take a drink and check my email. It was just the normal things. If I tried hard enough, I could imagine that I wasn’t here trying to ignore the rest of the world. But that I was getting work done and doing something I loved.

  But every time I paused, each time I let my mind drift, I imagined the look on Tobey’s face, and then I imagined what Tucker had probably looked like when he saw me in my drunken state.

  I owed him.

  Not Tobey. I didn’t know what to think about him. But I really owed Tucker. I had acted like a fool, and while I had been in my own home, I hadn’t really been safe, and he’d been there to take care of me.

  Maybe I should do something for him. Like, bake him a pie or something. I could bake, not as good as Erin could, but that was her job.

  When I got home, I would bake him something. In fact, I was almost done for the day, so I would head to the grocery store, pick up what I needed, and then bake.

  That would make things right. And once that was over, I would only have to worry about Tobey. Not that I had any idea what to do about that.

  I went back to work for a bit more, and then cleaned up and made a quick mental checklist of what I’d need from the store.

  I didn’t bake often, but I had at least some of the staples. I’d need to get a lot of the things that went inside a pie, though.

  Thankfully, I had a change of clothes in my truck, so I quickly washed up in my office bathroom—complete with a shower and a tub—then put my hair in a braid, stuffed a hat on my head so I didn’t catch a cold since it was still freezing outside, and then headed to the grocery store.

  My phone buzzed as I was heading down the produce aisle, figuring out if I wanted to make a cherry or an apple pie. Would a cherry apple pie work? I didn’t have a recipe for that, but I figured I could find one really quick.

  I looked down at the screen and tried not to wince.

  Erin: We’re heading over soon. We heard Tucker was over?