Taboo Series Book 1 & 2 Bundle

by Roxy Queen

  Lucky is exactly the word I’d been searching for. I twist to see around the man in front of me, who’s no longer interested now that the race is over. I want to see him when he climbs out of the water, goggles pushed back into his cap. When he looks up I swear he catches my eye. I can’t focus on his face though. He’s soaking wet, skin pink from exertion, and my eyes land on that Speedo.

  A Speedo.

  No one looks good in a Speedo. No one, I realize, but Aqua-Man.

  The whole thing is a turn on. I’m turned on. From seeing him hugging Harper to the Speedo, to the way he dominated the race. Desire settles deep in the pit of my belly. It’s all I can do not to follow him to his spot with the rest of the swimmers and rip that tiny piece of Lycra off his hips.

  But I can’t. I won’t, and I spend the rest of the meet doting on the girls, buying them pizza and soda from the concessions stand. Anything to distract myself, but nothing I do makes the feeling go away.

  I spy on him between events, watching him inhale three pieces of pizza and drink a gallon of Gatorade. He uses it as fuel, I’m certain, feeding his mass and all the energy that rolls off his body in waves. When I can’t stand it for a minute longer, I find Betsy and say, “I’m going to head out.”

  “Thanks for coming,” she says, giving me a hug. “It means a lot to the girls.”

  “Of course,” I tell her. They’re going out with the team for ice cream afterwards and it feels like one of those family moments, anyway.

  Leaving the noisy swim meet behind, I step into the darkened street toward my car. I haven’t gone far when I spot his SUV, the trunk door lifted up. In the faint glow of his interior car light, I spy Carter pulling a shirt over his head. The magnetic draw to him overwhelms me, but I resist, reminding myself I could be his much, much older sister and forcing myself to think of non-sexual things like puppies and shoes.

  “Ruthie.”

  Dammit.

  “Hey, Carter,” I say, veering in his direction. I eye his damp hair and the towel slung low over his hips. In the dark I see the blue and gold Speedo on the ground. He’s got a pair of shorts in his hand.

  “Oh, um…” he’s naked under that towel. Naked. One shift and that towel could fall to the ground and there will be nothing I can do to stop myself. My mind wanders… For one brief second I could have yanked that towel off and there would have been nothing between my mouth and his cock.

  “Yeah, give me a second.” He sort of turns away and performs some kind of magic where he slips his shorts on under the towel. They’re sports shorts. The mesh kind, blue, with the number 17 in a circle on his thigh.

  “I can’t stand wearing that wet bathing suit all night,” he says as if nothing just transpired between us. Does he even know I gave him a mental blow job? Because I did. I fully imagined it. What his cock looks and feels like. What he tastes like.

  Stop. It.

  “I bet,” I say, choking a little on the words. What now? Do I tell him congratulations on his win, on his gift of genetic superiority, for being able to turn my body into a quivering mess?

  Or, you know, just congratulations.

  “Great swim.” I lick my lips, still tasting his imaginary cum. I’m a pervert, and he watches my every move closely because he’s a boy and I think he can read my mind.

  “You saw my race?”

  “Didn’t everyone?”

  He shrugs but I see the small smile on his mouth and I know he knows how amazing he is. I like that about him. I like that he owns his power. When you’re king of the world, claim your title. “The girls did well. Harper made it across the finish line—that’s a very big deal when you’re four,” he says.

  I keep my eyes on his chest but I feel his lingering on my mouth. I attempt to say something else, something witty, but I don’t. Instead my mind goes blank and then I’ve pressed my mouth to his and I taste his tongue and the sugary sweet of the candy he must’ve just eaten.

  Oh God.

  Any thoughts of him not being receptive are instantly dashed when his teeth crash into mine. He’s a little sloppy, but so, so eager, and I forgive him when his hands cinch around my waist, engulfing me with their size. He may be a boy, but gah, he feels like a man.

  Laughter from a group of kids walking to their car split us apart and my heart beats so furiously I’m sure he can hear it. The interruption is enough to clear my head. Sort of.

  “Wow,” I say, once the group passes and we’re alone, again. “So, that was weird. I don’t normally just kiss guys like that. Especially, you know, younger ones like you and um… you probably think I’m gross and old and a creeper.” I stop rambling because he’s looking at me in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever seen. Halfway like he may puke and halfway like he may have already shot his load in his pants.

  I take a step back.

  He takes one forward.

  My stomach drops to my feet.

  “That was the hottest thing ever,” he says, blinking like I may be a figment of his imagination. I can tell he means what he said, and right then instead of thinking, “I’m going to ruin this kid, because this is wrong,” I think, “I’m going to ruin this kid, because if he thinks that was hot, wait until I show him everything else.”

  I push that thought away because it’s terrible. Horrible. He has a mother. Granted, I also have a mother, but he still lives with his.

  “Let’s just…” I start but he keeps looking at me. Like that. Like he wants more and I’m so freaking weak. No. No. This is wrong. I muster up the courage to put a stop to this. “Look. I kind of did that on a dare okay? My friend, you know from the pool? The other babysitter? She dared me to kiss you. That’s all.”

  I hope he can’t hear my heart hammering or smell the desperation wafting off my skin. I’m lying, and when I lie my neck gets blotchy, but it’s dark out here. He probably just thinks I’m a loser. I am a loser for kissing a teenager, for Christ’s sake.

  “A dare?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “What do you win?”

  “Bragging rights,” I blurt. “That’s all.”

  “You girls are crazy.”

  I lean against the car to steady myself. “You have no idea.”

  Chapter 7

  “He tasted like Mountain Dew and Starbursts.”

  The day after the meet Finley and I retreat from our usual positions on the lounge chairs to a shaded table under an umbrella. We can still watch the girls playing in the shallow end and the lifeguards, but back here we have more privacy.

  “That sounds…heavenly.” Even behind the tinted plastic lenses of her glasses I can make out how wide her eyes are. “What else happened?”

  “Nothing. I went home. He probably went to get ice cream with all the other kids.” I drop my head into my palms. “God, it sounds even worse now. Ice cream. Dude, he was eating ice cream with the eight-year-olds while I was having fantasies of his Mountain Dew breath on my vagina.”

  “Who cares? It was worth it. Plus, I bet he spanked to that kiss all night.” We both glance at him, sitting like a golden god in his chair. I see the tip of an eyebrow arch over his glasses in my direction. He knows we’re talking about him; he just has no idea it’s about him masturbating. Over me.

  “So what happens now?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. I told him it was just a dare. I need to keep it that way.”

  “Whatever. You’re totally going to fuck him before the summer is over. Why not just do it now?”

  “Finley!” She laughs so hard she bends over and holds her stomach. I punch her arm “I can’t believe you said that!” I glance around to make sure no one heard her. Thankfully, no one else is paying us attention. Well one person is, but he’s far enough away he can’t hear anything.

  She squirts me with her water bottle and says, “Okay, but for real, how did kissing him feel?”

  “The kiss felt nice,” I tell her, but then consider it further. “It made me feel confident. Powerful. Something I hadn’t felt in a l
ong time. Especially since breaking up with Jamie.”

  “It’s taboo,” she says.

  “Yes, very much so. I mean, I can’t tell anyone I did that! Even those moms over there that lust over him would never go for it.”

  “Well, they shouldn’t, they’re moms. With husbands. You’re single. Stop being such a chicken.

  “I enjoyed that kiss way more than I should have.”

  The guards call adult swim and the kids scatter. Our girls grab a snack and head to the playground. “I’ll be black in a minute,” I tell Finley. The three waters I consumed this morning are about to burst my bladder. I pass Carter and the other guards as I duck into the bathhouse.

  I’m behind the closed bathroom door when I hear two other women come in. The stall doors slam and latch beside me and one says to the other. “Did you see him today?”

  “How could I not see him?” the other woman replied. They’re definitely women. Not teenagers. “He’s gorgeous. It was all I could do not to squeeze his ass when he bent over to pick up my pool bag.”

  Both women laugh and I freeze, staring at the back of the stall door.

  “I’ve signed Martin up for another session of swim lessons. It gives me an excuse to talk to him.”

  “Debbie, you’re married!” Ah, the Bikini Mom. Should’ve known.

  “So,” she laughs. “I can look. What Roger doesn’t know won’t hurt him, plus you know things have been tense between us lately. A little something on the side may be exactly what I need.”

  I clamp a hand over my mouth. Holy shit. Finley’s wrong. This woman wants to cheat on her husband with Aqua-Man. Holy. Shit.

  “I don’t know Debbie. He’s been checking out that babysitter. I think he’s into her.”

  Wait, what? I hold my breath and press my ear to the wall.

  “Maybe, but that just gives me more ammo. Why go for a tiger cub when you can have a cougar?”

  The two women giggle like hyenas and I hear the water running at the sink. A minute later they walk out the door and I’m left alone in the bathroom fighting an odd sense of jealousy and rage. Did that woman in her too tight bikini, overly made-up, too obvious way really think she could get Carter to pay attention to her? Because gross. He’s better than that. But I also know he’s a guy and would he really turn her down? He sure didn’t turn me down.

  I wait a couple more minutes before leaving the bathroom, hoping they don’t notice me coming out. Back on the pool deck I pretend not to care when I hear her fake, high-pitched laugh near the guard office. She is not going to win Aqua-Man.

  Chapter 8

  Unfortunately, I don’t get my chance to make a move. Neither does she. He disappears for the next three days.

  “Vacation?” Finley suggests.

  “Maybe.”

  “I never realized how boring it is without him here.”

  “Right?”

  Luck is with us the next day because he’s back, even though something’s off. He sticks to the shade and walks gingerly around the pool. Much to our dismay he keeps his shirt on. Oh, and he looks like he’s going to puke.

  “Is he sick?” I wonder.

  Finley narrows her eyes and studies him. He’s hovering near the shade, keeping away from the sun. “Oh my god!” she exclaims. “He’s hung over.”

  “Really? Do you think?”

  It’s not a shock that he drinks. Most teenagers do. I did. And he’s going off to college this fall.

  Finley shakes her head. “Poor kid. He looks like he got run over by a keg of shitty-watered down beer with tequila chasers.”

  Ah…right. “Been there, done that.”

  During adult swim, he wanders over to the side of the pool alone and sits on the diving board ladder with his head in his hands. I make a rash decision and grab my keys. I say to Finley, “I’ll be back in five minutes. Watch the girls, okay?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Five minutes.”

  It takes me eight, because even though the McDonald’s is just around the corner, there’s a line. When I come back he’s leaning against the wrought iron fence surrounding the pool. Even with a green complexion he’s still hot.

  “Eat and drink this,” I instruct, handing him the bag containing two large fries and a massive Coke.

  “What?”

  “Hangover cure. And when you’re finished get in the pool. It’s too hot out here. It’s making it worse. The cold water will make you feel better.”

  He takes the bag and looks warily at the contents.

  “Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

  He relents, shoving a fist-full of fries in his mouth and drinks half the soda in one gulp. Carter leans his head back against the building. “Oh my God. I feel better already.”

  “Told you.” He tips the first fry container upside down and I watch his Adam’s apple bob while he inhales them. “What did you do to get in this shape?”

  He groans. “I went up to Duke for this pre-Rush thing. I’m not used to partying like that.”

  “So you’re pledging?” Not a surprise.

  “Yeah, I guess,” he says over a mouthful of fries. “My dad wants me too—you know “connections” and all. It was fun but I don’t know if I could do that every night.”

  “It’s not every night once you get into school. The parties are fun—lots of girls and stuff.” I trail off when he licks the salt off his fingers one by one. “Better?”

  He crushes the bag into a ball and tosses it into the trashcan. “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Seriously, get in the water.”

  “If you say so.” He pulls his shirt (the blue one) off and jumps into the deep end, submerging deep beneath the water. From the other side of the pool Finley’s jaw hangs, watching our interaction.

  When I settle back into my seat she says, “What did you do?”

  “I taught him how to deal with a hangover.”

  “Greasy food and sugar?”

  “Yep.”

  He climbs up the ladder, all arms and shoulders and muscles, the color restored in his face.

  “You also got him to take his shirt off.”

  “Yep.”

  “All in all, a winning day.”

  I lean back and stretch my legs out. He’s got his eyes on me again. This time I return the stare.

  Chapter 9

  I’m lying on my bed eating ice cream out of the container when Finley texts.

  Be ready in ten minutes

  Why? I’m in my pajamas

  That’s okay. I’m coming to get you.

  Why?

  Ten minutes

  I wait on the steps afraid she’ll honk and wake up the family. One of the curses of living with your employer is they know what’s going on during your off time. Not that leaving your house in cotton shorts and a tank top is a huge deal but it may raise questions.

  “Where are we going?” I ask the minute the door closes. Finley hands me an envelope. On the outside it says “Carter.” I open the flap and inside I find two tickets to Mumford and Sons. “You’re kidding right?”

  “Nope. Maggie’s parents gave me the tickets for my birthday but Ryan and I can’t go. I’m giving them to Carter.”

  “What? Why him?”

  We’re at a stop light. I’m not sure how Finley knows where we’re going, but she seems to have an idea. The light casts her face in a pink glow. She looks over and says, “Because of Aqua-Man I’ve had the best sex of my life this summer, okay? Like bed breaking, multiple orgasms, three-times-a-night sex. We decided to thank him.”

  “We? You told Ryan?”

  “I didn’t get specific but he knows how much entertainment I get from him. And he also knows I rocked his fucking world last night. And the night before. And tomorrow. So, yeah, he’s good.”

  I look at the note wrapped around the tickets and read it out loud. “Thanks for the awesome.” I burst out laughing, giddy at my friend’s balls. “Holy shit. You’re a goddess.”

  She n
ods and turns off the main road and into a neighborhood of moderately sized houses. “Keep a look out for 1518.”

  “So what’s the plan? You just ring the doorbell and hand these to him?”

  “No, I’m not ringing his fucking doorbell. Jesus,” she says, like I’m the one with the ridiculous idea. “We’re leaving them on his car, under the windshield wiper.”

  “You’re crazy,” I say.

  “Like a fox.” She drives down the street slowly, looking at each house number. We finally find it at the end of a cul-de-sac. His car is parked out front under a basketball goal. “Okay, you have to get out and put it on the car.”

  “Me? This is your idea.”

  “I’m driving the getaway car!”

  I take a deep breath and sigh. I’m twenty-six years old. Twenty-six. In another life I should be getting married and acting like an adult. Instead I’m stalking an eighteen-year-old and leaving notes on his car. What has become of my life? “Okay, but do not leave me. No matter what, okay?”

  “I won’t, promise.”

  I get out and run to his car, thankfully parked in the street. I lift up the windshield wiper and, “Crap!” I shout. The envelope blows out of my hands and lands under the car. I’m going to lose my job. And my reputation and all sense of face I’ve ever, ever had.

  “Hurry,” Finley whisper shouts from the car and I’m on my knees reaching for the stupid envelope. I grab it and tuck it in the windshield, running back to the car like my pants are on fire.

  “Go! Go! Go!”

  Finley guns the car, peeling out of the cul-de-sac the squeal of her wheels drowning out our laughter.

  Chapter 10

  Betsy asked me to babysit while she and her husband have a ‘date night’.

  I agree because, sadly, I haven’t had a date in months and have little else to do during my time off. I try not to let it bother me. Being single is part of learning who I am after so many years of being part of a couple, but really, I’m starting to get horny. Okay, I’m past starting. I am horny.

  “I think that’s enough,” I say to Claire. We’re at the yogurt place and she’s piled three flavors into her cup. “You won’t have any room for toppings.”