by Aria Ford
“Well, you do,” I smiled, swiveling so my body pressed against his. “You know a lot about me, for one thing. And how to please me.”
He laughed. I could feel him getting aroused, though I doubted he was as aroused as I was just then. I sighed. It was almost time for me to drive home. I could delay it a bit. I wanted to.
As he stroked my hair and my body melted against his, I thought about the future. While I could still think of things besides my pleasure, I realized how exciting it was.
There was not a cloud on the horizon. I could see it all so clearly. Our apartment together, his job—I was sure our company could get him on board—and his healing. I would heal too. I would learn to trust, to be gentler with myself and others. To love again.
As he kissed me and my body melted in his arms, I was more grateful than I could ever have been for the Christmas that had brought us finally together.
EPILOGUE
I slid out of bed to the scent of coffee. It was my day off, but Carson had evidently been busy. I looked at the clock. It was ten am. I yawned and stretched.
“Honey?” I called.
He appeared in the bedroom door, a shy smile on his face. “Coffee?”
“You are wonderful,” I said fervently. He laughed.
He had a tray with two cups and he came and put them beside me. He sat down on the bed and I kissed his shoulder.
He was dressed already and had been out. I knew where. I stroked his hair, not wanting to pry. At length, he turned to me.
“It went well,” he said gently.
“Good,” I said.
He had agreed to go for counseling with a trauma specialist. It made me so happy that he was willing to take that move, to free himself. This was his first appointment. I was so pleased, and I didn’t want to do anything to upset the process. If it was going well, that was wonderful.
“He’s a good guy, Doctor Hepburn,” he offered. “Kind. Not fussy.”
“Good,” I said. I held him in my arms while he sipped coffee, my head on his shoulder.
“You slept well?” he asked, kissing my cheek.
“Mm,” I agreed. “Though a bit of coffee was what I needed now.”
He chuckled, low in his throat. “You need something else?”
I smiled. “My dear, you know.”
As he kissed me and pushed me onto the bed, I felt a bubble of joy well up in me. I was laughing with delight as his lips moved to my chest and my fingers stroked him.
As we made love, the coffee forgotten, my heart filled with a deep, rich joy.
We were together. We were well and whole. As far as I was concerned, life was as I wanted it.
The End
WET
A Brother’s Best Friend
Chapter 1
Tanner
Lindsey Scott seemed to be bored out of her mind, sitting at the table we had procured in the busy club.
“Do you want another drink?” I asked her.
I wasn’t trying to get her drunk, but I wanted to prove to her I wasn’t a jackass. I knew she thought I was more than a little self-absorbed. Shit, she had told me enough times.
She smiled at me. “That’d be great. Rum and Coke, please.”
God, she was fucking hot. I had known her forever and literally watched her blossom practically overnight. My best friend, Brian, was a little overprotective of his little sister, but even he could acknowledge she was very pretty.
I brought her drink back. “Here ya go,” I said, delivering it to her.
“Thank you. I swear, this is going to be my last one.” She giggled, talking loud to be heard over the thumping music.
I winked. “Sure it is. It’s okay to let loose once in a while.”
She rolled those beautiful brown eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Big Shot, best trainer in the state,” she teased.
I leaned in close to her, our shoulders touching. “You know I’m the best—at everything.”
Her head went back, and she opened that perfect mouth and laughed. Her long, bleached-blond hair cascaded down the back of the chair, and her slender neck was exposed. I fought the urge to dive in and lick all that tanned skin.
“You’re—”
“Don’t you dare say it!” I held up a hand. “Who just bought you a drink?”
Another sweet laugh revealed all those perfectly straight white teeth, “You’re right. You have grown, Tanner Brown. Look at you, all gentlemanlike, getting a lady a drink, knowing damn well there’s no hope you’ll get laid later.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Are you sure about that?”
Brian glared at me. “I’m sure about that,” he snarled, only half-joking.
“He doesn’t fool me, Brian,” Lindsey assured her big brother. “Tanner is the world’s biggest flirt who has this idea women will fall at his feet if he flashes that sexy little smile and turns those smoldering green eyes on them. I’ve seen this guy cry when he fell off his bike. His tricks don’t have the same effect on me.”
Brian nodded but looked at me. “Back off my sister, dude. There are about a million girls in here. Go flirt with them.”
I laughed, pretending it was all a joke, but deep down, I knew different. Lindsey was gorgeous, smart, and a kick-ass swimmer. Her body was rocking, and I could see myself getting to know her much better than I already did. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed how attractive she was, inside and out.
“I gotta take a piss. I’ll be back.” Brian scanned the room before standing and leaving our small table.
“Have you seen Brittany?” Lindsey asked, scanning the room for her wayward best friend.
I shook my head. I’d been a little too absorbed in my best friend’s sister. “Nope, not since she hit the dance floor with that dude.”
She nodded, looked only a little concerned, and took another drink from her straw.
“How’s training going?” I asked, genuinely interested.
She put a hand to her forehead. “It isn’t.”
“What? Aren’t you trying out for the Olympics this year? You’ve been busting your ass for this for too long to give up,” I began lecturing.
She shrugged, “My trainer gave up and moved last week. No warning, no nothing. Just gone. I am so screwed.”
“I’ll train you,” I said without thinking. Could I handle it? I was beyond attracted to her and seeing her parade around in the typical one-piece bathing suit of a professional swimmer would probably leave me with a constant erection, but I wanted to do this for her. I could handle it, and she deserved a shot at making it to the top.
She smirked. “Yeah right.”
“I could. You know I could. I’m the best, after all. I’ll bust your ass into shape and make sure you get your spot on the team.”
She looked serious for a second before she waved a hand in the air, essentially waving away my offer. I knew she could afford my rates. Well, her family could. They were very wealthy, and because of them, I had found a way to make myself quite comfortable as well.
“Uh-oh,” she muttered, staring over my shoulder.
I turned to see Brian and another guy I didn’t recognize. Their noses were almost touching. I waited to see if it was going to erupt into a fight or if they would posture a bit before cooling their jets. The two men separated, and Brian made his way toward us.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“That dude is a douche. I bumped into him, and he wanted to fight me,” he said with disgust.
“Uh, Brian, he’s coming this way,” Lindsey interrupted.
I turned, and sure enough, big meathead followed by a couple of his buddies was headed to our table. Fucking awesome.
One of the guys stood directly behind me, effectively locking me in my seat at the table. His chest was pressing into my back. The guy Brian had squared off with was standing in front of him. Brian stood and got back in his face. Mr. Tough Guy’s buddy was standing behind Brian.
“Get the fuck off me,” I said, throwing an elbow back, land
ing it in the guy’s solar plexus.
He didn’t move.
I shoved back and spun around as I jumped off the barstool. I wasn’t a pussy, and no dumbass meathead was going to push me around.
“Guys, back off,” Lindsey said in a voice full of warning.
Before I knew what was coming, Tough Guy took a swing and hit Brian in the jaw. Brian swung into action and pushed the guy before throwing a punch and landing it in the center of the dude’s face. Blood erupted from what was probably a broken nose. Before I got the chance to do anything, the bouncers were on our table, surrounding Brian and the bleeding tough guy, dragging them both out of the bar.
I looked at Lindsey. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but I think we better get out of here.”
When I looked around, I could see Tough Guy’s buddies were hanging out and looking mad as hell. They were eyeballing me. Sure, I was always up for a good fight, but Brian would kick my ass if I got kicked out and left Lindsey in here alone.
“Finish your drink. They aren’t going to run us out of here.”
She picked up her glass and swallowed the contents in a long guzzle. That was going to go straight to her head and give her a nice buzz.
“Not exactly what I meant, but it works.”
I picked up my beer and took a long drink before putting the bottle down.
“We better make sure Brian isn’t getting jumped out there by himself,” I said, realizing the bouncers wouldn’t do anything once the men were outside.
“I need to find Brittany,” Lindsey said, jumping off the stool.
The tiny, tight pink skirt she was wearing had ridden up her thighs, revealing those perfectly shaped, muscular legs. I watched as she tugged it down before tugging down the fitted black shirt she was wearing. It, too, had ridden up, and her flat tummy was exposed just a hint. More tanned flesh. She looked up, her eyes met mine, and I knew she could see the desire. I couldn’t hide it.
“Stop,” she said, shooting me down.
“You’re hot, and you know it,” I told her with a grin.
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s find her.”
“Text her and tell her to get her ass outside. I don’t want to try and find her in this mess.”
She nodded, and we made our way to the door. I placed my hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her through the crowd.
Once outside, we looked around and found Brian leaning up against the wall of the bar. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled.
“How’s your face?” I asked.
“Guy barely touched me, but we need to get out of here before his buddies come out and want to start more shit,” he grumbled.
Just then an obviously drunk Brittany walked out the door with a guy pressed behind her, his arms around her waist and his head buried in her neck. She was giggling and clearly enjoying the attention.
“We need to go, Brit,” Lindsey said.
“Go ahead, I’m going to hang out with—” she looked up at the guy draped on her back, “What’s your name again?”
“Dustin,” he mumbled, his mouth still on her neck.
“Dustin. Dustin and I are going across the street to get a drink,” she laughed.
“Whatever,” Lindsey said. “Be careful. Text me later. Dustin?”
The guy removed his face from Brittany’s neck, looked at Lindsey and gave her a lecherous grin that nearly made me hit him, “Huh?” he asked.
“Don’t do anything that makes me sick,” she threatened, “or I, because I can, and I will kick your ass. Got it?”
Dustin grinned, his eyes slightly glazed from copious amounts of alcohol. “We’re just having fun. I promise I’m a nice guy.”
“Whatever.” She turned to me and then looked at Brian. “Let’s go.”
We all watched Brittany stumble across the street to the other bar.
“You sure she’s going to be okay?” I asked Lindsey, feeling like I should somehow be the hero that saved the girl but not really caring all that much to step in tonight.
“She’s fine. It’s a typical Saturday night for Brittany, trust me.”
Chapter 2
Lindsey
“Blah, blah, blah.”
That’s all I could hear. My psychology professor was droning on about something, but my brain couldn’t focus. All I could think about was swimming or the lack thereof. I hadn’t been in the pool in three days. Sure, that wasn’t a big deal for some, but for me, it was career ending. I had to do something quick or my hopes of making the team and winning an Olympic gold medal were going to evaporate.
Why my trainer up and left me hanging was anybody’s guess, but I wanted to kick him in the kneecaps or maybe somewhere else a bit more painful. I couldn’t do this. Sitting in a classroom was not fixing my situation. I needed a trainer—now. I checked my watch, fifteen minutes before class would be over. I got the gist of it.
I walked out, doing my best to be as sneaky as possible, but knowing I was completely failing. Nothing I could do about it. The professor can get mad, but I had bigger problems.
Tanner. His name kept popping into my head. Had he been serious when he offered to train me? I guess there’s only one way I’d ever know for sure.
I quickly slid my thumb over my contacts list and pressed his name with a picture of him on the side. God, he was hot. He looked like a surfer. Had the dirty-blond hair, the tanned skin, and the muscular body of a man who was constantly working out in the water and in the gym. I’ve always had a crush on him. What girl doesn’t? At the bar, I noticed he was checking me out, even flirting a little. While we’ve joked around in the past, he has always been like a brother to me, and I’ve never even thought about what it would be like to date him—or sleep with him.
“Hey, sexy,” he answered on the second ring.
That hot little shiver of desire washed over me the second I heard his voice, “Hey yourself.”
“You’re calling me in the middle of the day. Aren’t you supposed to be in school or something?”
“Yes, I am, kind of. Whatever. Were you serious the other night?” I asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.
“About?”
“Training me.”
“Hell, yeah I was. I would love to get my hands on that hot little body and mold you into the Olympian I know you are,” he said.
His words were meant as a joke. I think. But my mind went somewhere else. A vision of him running his hands over my naked body popped into my head, completely distracting me from what I was supposed to be doing.
“Good, thank you. I’ll have my dad work out all the payment and stuff. I have practice tonight at four, and then, usually, I would train from six to nine. Does that work for you?”
He was silent for a few seconds. “Yep, that works. Are we training at the school?”
I thought about it briefly. “High school down the road from the college,” I blurted, giving him the address. “We can work out the details later.”
“See you tonight, beautiful.”
“Bye,” I said.
I relished the feeling that came over me. He was always using various terms of endearment when he talked to me. It was something he had always done, but now the words felt like there was a little more meaning behind them, like he really thought I was beautiful and sexy.
With a plan in place, I managed to get through my next two classes without completely spacing out. Instead of worrying about what I was going to do, I was focused on seeing Tanner. I couldn’t wait!
“Come on, Lindsey,” my swim team coach hollered.
I bit back the foul language I wanted to spew at him. The guy was not in the same league as Tanner or my previous trainer. He was a college swim team coach—not an Olympic coach.
I used my arms to pull myself up and out of the pool, standing there on the cement, water dripping off my legs, I put my hands on my hip, “I’m doing the best I can,” I seethed.
“No, you’re not,” Coach Dewey sho
uted. “You are better than this. You’re supposed to be heading off to the Olympics. You aren’t going anywhere if you don’t get your head in it. Now get your ass in there and do it again.”
I growled, “What was my time?”
He narrowed his gaze at me. “twenty-nine point two.”
Ouch. That was definitely not good.
“I’ll do better,” I said, stretching my arms and moving my neck around.
I was working on my fifty-meter freestyle run. If I hoped to have a chance at a medal, I had to get down to the twenty-four second range. Five seconds is a lot to shave off. I hoped Tanner could whip my ass into shape.
The hour-long practice was nothing compared to what was coming. I trained six days a week, one hour with the San Diego State team and then three hours with my trainer. We had been granted access to use the local high school’s pool, but I didn’t know if that was still possible since it had been arranged with my previous trainer.
Once practice was over, I raced home. My parents spoiled me, there was no doubt in my mind. They paid for my apartment, demanding I focus on my education and swimming. When I lived at home, my dad had put in a huge pool so I could train without leaving. It also allowed my parents to keep an eye on the trainer. There had been too many horror stories of trainers abusing the young women in their charge.
“Hi,” Tanner said, meeting me in the parking lot of the high school.
“You’re early,” I said, climbing out of my little black Mazda Miata.
“And you’re late. Rule number one, if you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late,” he said in a serious tone.
I looked at him and rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I will fire you. Practice went long. We’re gearing up for our meet at home against the Nevada Relays. Then the following week we go up against USC. It’s going to be a tough couple of weeks.”
He nodded. “You’ll do fine.”
“I hope so.”
He greeted me by putting his hands on my waist and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, “I’ll let you get away with it this time, but next time, you won’t get off so easy.”
