by Frankie Love
Booty Camp
Booty Call Series
Frankie Love
C.M. Seabrook
Edited by My Brother’s Editor
Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations Copyright © and 2019 by Frankie Love and C.M. Seabrook
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Booty Camp
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue I
Epilogue II
Also by Frankie & C.M.
About Frankie
About C.M.
Booty Camp
Booty Call Series
Booty Camp [boo-tee-kamp] noun: Two people isolating themselves to get better at the deed.
The issue: She’s a virgin and crushing on a player.
Her hang-up: Wants experience before she makes a move.
The solution: Teach her everything I know.
My idiotic move: Falling for the girl who wants the other guy.
Mila Crawford thinks she needs lessons to be ready for the douchebag she’s eyeing.
I may think he’s all wrong for her, but I want to be the guy who teaches her.
Why? She’s the complete package.
Funny, smart, sexy... oh, and way too good for me.
It’s time for BOOTY CAMP: A weekend alone with the girl of my dreams.
I’m not leaving this hotel suite until I make her mine.
Dear Reader,
Grady Callahan is a reformed womanizer.
This pilot only wants ONE woman in his cockpit.
He knows the flight path and is ready for you to board his plane.
Buckle up, baby, it’s gonna be a real hard ride!
Xo, Frankie & Chantel
Chapter One
Grady
“I think that’s it.” I place the last box of beer behind the bar at Hot Wheels Roller Rink and turn to my sister, Kendall. “Do you need me to pick up anything else?”
“Yeah. We need three dozen silver and gold helium balloons, and more plastic champagne glasses.” She hands me a slip of paper with an address on it. “And you still need to pick up the cake.”
“You’re shitting me, right?” I’m a pilot for one of the largest airlines in the U.S. and today, on one of my only days off this week, my sister has me racing around the city as her errand boy.
“Do you want this to be the best anniversary party or not? I mean how many other parents make it to thirty years?”
“Fine,” I grumble under my breath and tell her I’ll pick them up. Because she’s right, these days it’s pretty impressive for anyone to make it past five years. Hell, I’ve never made it past five months in any relationship...actually, five weeks would be more accurate. But I’m happy with my life. Sure, maybe one day I’ll settle down, but until I find the one, I’m not looking for anything long term.
You already found the one, that annoying little voice in the back of my head says. You’re just too much of a coward to admit it.
From the corner of my eye, I see Mila out on the rink teaching a roller skating class to a bunch of little girls. A smile spreads across my face when I turn to watch her.
God, the woman is beautiful. But she doesn’t know it. It’s only when she’s got a pair of skates on that she seems comfortable in her own skin. Her laughter floats across the room as she skates backward and does an axel jump that has the little girls clapping with excitement.
“She’s good, huh?” my sister says as she approaches.
“Yeah. She always was.”
Kendall raises a brow, and I feel her studying me.
“What?” I cough, trying to pull my gaze away from Mila, but finding it difficult. “I used to see her at figure skating practices before my hockey games.”
Not that I should have to justify myself to my sister, Mila and I were friends long before they opened the rink together.
I’ve known Mila most of my life. But it wasn’t until I gave Timmy Ryder a black eye back in fifth grade for making fun of her glasses and freckles that we became inseparable. After that day, she became my shadow, tagging after me everywhere I went.
Funny thing is, the woman shines brighter than any sun. She just doesn’t know it.
Goodness, warmth, and grace radiate from her. And yet she still hides under baggy clothes and a shyness I know she uses as a shield.
When she catches me watching her, she smiles, and her green eyes light up. My chest squeezes with emotion and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me today. Mila and I have always been and will only ever be just friends.
“Did you hear me?” my sister asks, nudging my arm with hers.
“What?”
Kendall frowns and shakes her head. “Just don’t forget the balloons and cake, okay?”
“Yeah, I’m on it.”
She purses her lips, looking like she wants to say something else, but she just sighs and walks away.
I glance back at Mila, who waves at me after dismissing her class. “Hey, Grady,” she says, skating toward me. “What are you doing here?”
“Just dropping off some stuff for my parents’ anniversary party.”
“Oh right. That’s tonight.”
“Are you going?”
“Um...I...” she stutters. Her eyes are glued to something behind me and her cheeks turn crimson. “I....uh...” Her tongue darts out, and she licks her lips.
I glance over my shoulder to see what, or rather who she’s looking at, and frown.
Brad Hansell walks toward us, a cocky grin stretched across his arrogant face, and I see the way his gaze roams down Mila’s body greedily, before turning his attention to me.
The guy is a real douche. He’s friends with a few buddies of mine, and he plays golf with my dad on occasion, but he’s always rubbed me the wrong way.
“Yo, Grady,” he says. “You up for a game of floor hockey?”
“Nah,” I say. “I’m kind of attached to my teeth.”
He laughs, then glances back at Mila, who’s practically drooling over the man. I want to take her chin and close her mouth. Actually I want to do a hell of a lot more with that mouth, but I know even thinking the thought is tempting trouble.
“Hey,” Brad says to her, flipping his hair back like he’s in one of those boy bands and giving her a smug grin - like I said, douchebag.
Mila doesn’t say anything back, she just opens and closes her mouth like the words are stuck in her throat, and stands there blinking up at him.
He chuckles, then walks away, and I hear Mila let out a sigh.
“What was that?” I ask, trying to push down the jealousy that has taken up a permanent place in my chest.
“What?” she asks, eyes wide and innocent.
“Clearly you like the guy.” I have no idea why. Sure, he’s good looking in a Chris Hemsworth sort of way. But he’s also a prick. Totally not her type. Actually, I’m not sure what her type is, because all the years I’ve known Mila, I can’t remember her ever dating anyone - at least not seriously.
“Why didn’t you talk to him?” I ask, studying her. Those gorgeous green eyes are still trained on Mr. Douchebag.
“Because...” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “He is so
out of my league.”
“If you mean that he’s not good enough for you, then yeah, you’re right.”
“Yeah right.” She shakes her head and pulls her gaze back to me - where it should be.
Shit, when the hell did I get so possessive of her. We’re just friends, nothing more. But I’ve got this unsettled feeling in my gut, a feeling I’ve never felt before, and that I don’t really understand.
“You’re gorgeous, Mila. Don’t let some prick make you feel anything less.”
“I appreciate the compliment, but you kind of have to say that.”
“Why?”
She chuckles. “Because you’d be a sucky friend if you didn’t.”
God, she has no idea how pretty she is.
Something primal inside of me wants to pull her into my arms and prove to her how beautiful, how sexy and desirable she really is. I must hold her gaze too long, because I see the heat creep back into her cheeks.
She tucks a stray hair behind her ear and glances away, before skating to a bench and sitting down.
I follow her and watch as she starts untying her laces.
“You seriously want to date that guy?” I ask, nodding toward the rink where Brad is obnoxiously celebrating a goal by pumping his fists in the air and screaming, “That’s how it’s done, fuckers.”
“Does it matter?” She shrugs, pulling off one skate. “It’s not like he’d ever go for me. I don’t think he even knows my name, and he’s been renting out the space for months.”
“You just need to put yourself out there.” I sit beside her and nudge her shoulder with my own. “Flirt a little.”
Shut up, my brain reprimands.
“I’ve never been good at flirting...” She sighs, taking off the other skate, then reaching for her shoes. “Or even talking to guys.”
“You’ve never had a problem talking to me.”
“Because you’re...” She smiles up at me, those green eyes holding my own, making my cock twitch.
“I’m what?” I ask, a crazy need to kiss her overwhelming me.
She pulls her gaze away and shrugs. “You’re just...you.”
“I’m not sure if I should be offended.”
Her hand rests on my arm. “I just mean you’re easy to talk to.”
I sigh. “So are you, Mila. You just need a little confidence.” I’m not sure why I’m pressing this. The last thing I want is to see her with Brad the Douche.
“Even if I did talk to him...” Her cheeks flame with color and she groans. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this. But I’ve stalked his Instagram. I know his type, and it’s not me.” She takes out her phone and pulls up his IG profile. “Look, he’s with a different girl in every one. And they are all gorgeous.”
I frown. “You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” I tell her. “The problem is he is with a different woman in every photo - not what they look like. I’m telling you, he’s a player.”
And she’s way prettier than any of those chicks.
Mila rolls her eyes. “Like you should talk. Don’t you have a different girl waiting for you in every city you fly into?”
I run a hand over my jaw, hating that she’s put me and Brad in the same category. “Maybe a few years ago. But I’m not like that anymore.”
“Then what are you like, Grady? What do you want?”
The way she asks it, the way her gaze is trained on mine seeking an answer, it makes me want to pull her into my arms and make a move. The move I should have made a long time ago. But I’ve never been good enough for Mila.
She’s right - I was a player for a long ass time. Until I realized if I ever wanted a woman who was more than a one-night stand, I would need to stop fucking around. Until I realized that the woman I really wanted was sitting right across from me.
I’m just not sure she feels the same. And the last thing I want to do is mess with our friendship.
I grin at her now and nudge her arm. “I’m a reformed womanizer.”
She laughs. “Well, whatever you are, I wish I had your skill. Effortless charm, oozing confidence and...” She shrugs and lets out a long sigh. “And plenty of experience.”
“I bet you have just the right amount of experience,” I say, even though the thought of her with another guy has the Neanderthal inside of me ready to beat my chest and claim her as mine.
“Grady, I have no experience.” Her voice is soft, but I hear the frustration in it.
“What do you mean?” I narrow my gaze.
She tosses her hands in the air. “As in none. Zero. Zilch.”
I frown at her. Is she seriously telling me she’s a virgin? How the hell did I not know that? I mean it makes sense now that I think about it. But, still...
“Oh my god. I can’t believe I just told you that.” She drops her head in her hands. “See, this is my problem. Look at the way you’re looking at me now. Like I’m a...freak.”
“No. You’re not a freak, Mila.” I take her hand and twine our fingers together, needing more time to process her words. “I’m just...surprised, that’s all. You could have any guy—”
She shakes her head and pulls her hand out of my grip, then stands. “Okay, let’s just change the subject. I think I’ve had my fill of mortification today.”
Except I’m not done with this discussion. Not even a little bit. But the way her cheeks continue to flame red, I know not to push her now.
Plus, I have a long to-do list for Kendall and my parents’ party starts in three hours.
“So,” I say, doing what she asked and changing the subject. “Do you have any idea how I’m going to fit three dozen helium balloons in the back of my Porsche?”
“What?” She laughs.
I roll my eyes. “One of Kendall’s requests for tonight.”
“You can take my van. I’ll go with you if you want some help?”
“I’d love the help,” I tell her. Not adding that I’d love something else much more. Her.
Chapter Two
Mila
I spend the rest of the day with Grady, helping him with the balloons and cake, then setting up Hot Wheels Roller Rink for the big anniversary party. I still can’t believe I admitted to him that I’m still clinging to my V-card.
Even now, I catch him watching me, and there’s something different in his gaze. Something I can’t decipher.
Grady and I talk about everything - except sex. Mainly because for years I was practically half in love with him. For years, I thought that when I ever did have sex, it would be with him. But Grady never looked at me like that, never looked at me like he is right now.
Like he wants me.
I glance away and shake off the thought, because that - him and me - will never happen. It can’t. We’re just friends. But, I can’t help the way my heart speeds up and butterflies take flight in my stomach when I think about what it would be like to be taken completely and fully by Grady Callahan.
Blowing out a shaky breath, I grab a glass of champagne and find Kendall.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asks. “Your face is flushed.”
I fan myself and take a sip of champagne. “Yeah, I’m just warm. The place looks great,” I say, hoping she didn’t see the way I was just looking at her brother. Because no matter how hot that fantasy is, it is not going to happen.
“I just hope Mom and Dad are surprised,” she says, smiling and shaking hands with people as they walk in.
“I just hope they show up,” Grady says behind me, his voice deep, rough, and sending a shiver of need down my spine. It doesn’t help that he places an arm over my shoulder. Sure, it’s casual, a gesture he’s done a hundred times before, but tonight it feels different.
Kendall blinks up at him, her face going pale. “Oh my god, do you think they won’t?”
Grady chuckles, and I can tell he loves teasing her. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”
“You’re terrible,” I say when Kendall walks away, flustered.
He shrugs, grinning
down at me, his eyes lingering on mine for a beat too long.
My skin warms when he moves closer, and I have to swallow over a lump that forms in my throat when he brushes my hair off my shoulder.
It doesn’t mean anything, I tell myself. It can’t.
I came to terms with the fact that we’d always be just friends a long time ago.
Because the man is gorgeous and sexy and funny and...everything. And me? Even though I may not look like the awkward teenager with braces, and pimples, and oversized glasses, anymore, there’s still a part of me that will always be that insecure girl.
And yet with Grady, I’m not. Especially not when he’s looking at me like he is now. Like I’m the most beautiful woman in the room.
But all those insecurities rush back to the surface when I see the man who just walked in the door.
Brad.
“I didn’t know he’d be here,” I say, my hands instantly getting sweaty. I’ve had a crush on the man for months, ever since he started renting out the rink for floor hockey every Friday afternoon.
Grady follows my gaze, and he growls out, “Neither did I.”
I smooth my hands over my hair, knowing it won’t make a difference.
“You really like that guy?” Grady asks, frowning down at me.
What I really want to say is, I like you. But I’m twenty-four years old, and it’s about time I stop living in my fantasies. I need to be brave. To take a risk. To stop being so scared of being intimate with someone.
“Yeah,” I finally say.
Grady sighs. “You deserve a hell of a lot better than him. But...” His jaw grinds and his nostrils flare when he glances over at Brad. When he looks back at me, his gaze softens. “Any guy in here would be lucky to have you, Mila. Including him.”
