EXCERPT 1
Again, I open the door without a preview. It’s not like I would turn away a serial killer or the Grim Reaper.

My eyes land on a throat. As they travel up, they glide over Greg Rodwell’s sexy face. I straighten with a gasp and blink away the surprise, hoping I’m not hallucinating. “What are you doing here?”

His gaze lands on my tits, and my hardening nipples beg for him to notice. I wish I regretted taking off my bra, but I don’t. Greg’s eyes meet mine, and instead of looking away, I hold them with mine. I’ve stared into his eyes while making love, but now they’re indifferent. His voice breaks my staring. “I forgot my key.”

“For?”

As I grapple with not knowing what to do, Greg pushes past me into the entryway. From the living room, my father watches us. Greg waves and then faces me, mumbling, “Let’s get this shit done.”

Through my teeth, I whisper, “But why? You said—”

He slices his hand through the air, mumbling, “Five minutes is all you get.”

I nod, stunned. Greg isn’t letting me do this alone. I could kiss him—but I won’t. “I’ll do the talking,” I mouth, and Greg shrugs. He follows me into the living room. Instead of sitting down with me on the couch, Greg offers my dad a handshake.

Going along with the last-minute plan, I say, “Dad, this is Greg. Greg, this is my dad, Marc Garrison.” Dad doesn’t stand up and hesitates before returning the handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Garrison. Like South Park, huh? Where is Mr. Hand?” Greg snorts, and I cringe as my dad wrinkles his nose like he smells rotten cheese.

“It’s Dr. Garrison. I thought Simone told you I’m an orthodontist?”

Greg releases Dad’s hand and steps back, slipping his hand into his dark hair, and it mesmerizes me. I hate that. “Oh, I’m sorry. Yeah. I fell on my head a lot as a kid.” Jesus Christ, Greg.

I shoot Greg a look, but he sits on the couch without looking at me. And then I see he’s wearing his silver wedding ring. My heart stops. Dead. Out of order. Gone for good. I don’t know whether to be shocked or furious.

Dad’s horror escalates. “I’d also like to say it’s nice to meet you, but we’ll see.”

Greg mutters, “I get it. I’m not for everyone.”

I sit beside Greg. His citrusy musk cologne makes my mouth water, and I lick my lips again, no doubt looking like a thirsty lizard in a desert. Narrowing his eyes at me, Dad sighs as if I failed out of school. “I was thinking you were a figment of my daughter’s imagination. Maybe even a scam.”

Greg smirks and my heart flutters because I drank too much caffeine. “No figment. I’m as real as a heart attack.” Classy.

We sit in uncomfortable silence, with Dad studying Greg more than he’s ever cared to learn about me. “Simone tells me you work at a gas station.” No, no, no. Greg is so going to ruin this.

Tripping over confusion and his words, Greg laughs but then frowns. He starts, stops, and sighs several times before saying, “Uh, I sure do.” My heart surges, but his clenched fists on his knees tell me he’ll never help me again.

My dad throws his hand out and then touches his mustached lip before asking, “Where have you been, though? It’s evident you don’t live here.”

Before Greg answers, I say, “Dad, please.”

Greg sits back against the couch and rests his folded hands between his thighs. “I’ve been around. It’s like this…” He sighs, and it both scares and thrills me. “I’ve been staying with a friend. Simone and I had an argument.”

My father chuckles like he heard a nonsensical knock-knock joke. “It’s obvious, but that shouldn’t explain why you don’t live with Simone as man and wife. Or are you hoping she’ll be the breadwinner? Since her father is wealthy, you may see pumping gas and cleaning the soda machine as a joy ride.”

Surprised even he would slither that low, I gasp, “Dad, that’s not fair! Greg isn’t here for you to critique his life!”

“Now, Simone, I will not tolerate a man you just met and married shirking his duties. As a wife, you should know this.”

I shrink against the couch but keep my thigh against Greg’s. It comforts me a little. Greg clears his throat. “I’m sorry. My duties?”

My father’s eyes narrow as he locks his gaze on my ex, his words dripping with annoyance. “I expect you to act like a husband.”

Greg pushes up his jacket sleeves, and I bite my lip. Christ, it’s hot in here. Greg’s voice is a sharp razor blade slicing through the unbearable friction. “Oh, really?”

I twitch my leg against him, bouncing his against mine. I mumble, “Greg…”

He waves his hand to shut me up. “No way. Your dad needs to hear this. We shouldn’t be ashamed.”

“Huh?” I sit up and angle toward him.

“I’m trying to be a husband to Simone. We have a lot on our plates, but to be honest, I’ve been putting way more effort between the sheets—”

“What?” I shriek, forgetting my dad is watching. We’re taking on water and sinking fast. I didn’t even wear a cute bikini.

Greg sails on, leaving me to doggy paddle. “But I’m not a machine. It’d be nice to slow down and not perform on demand.” As I remain frozen in the water, watching the Titanic sink, Greg motions toward me with a laugh. “Come on. Your daughter isn’t ugly. But sometimes all I want to do is focus on our desire and not on making Greg Jr. It’s not that I can’t do it, but I’m worn out. You know?”

The horror coursing through my body stabs me from every direction. I grab Greg’s arm, but he leans closer and mock whispers, “Shh, baby. Your dad needs to hear all this.” I fucking hate that I notice him calling me baby and miss it more than wearing pink.

I shove his arm to snap him out of the bullshit, but Greg grins at me. He knows I can’t refute our marriage status now…unless I dump him in front of my dad. And he’s beating me at my own game.

 

EXCERPT 2
Simone swims to the surface and toward the shallower end, but still avoids me as she clings to the wall. I sigh and wade over to her.

She wrings out her hair again with her back to me. I fucked up today. I clear my throat, and her shoulders tense. Risking her kneeing me in the balls when we’re out of the water, I squeeze my hands on her shoulders.

When she doesn’t shove my hands off her, I kneed my fingers into her muscles. The chlorine smell is sharp, but so is her sugary scent. I move closer but try not to hit her ass with my hard-on since she’s not happy to see me.

Simone shrugs me off of her and clings to the wall. I don’t know how to say what I want without offending her more.

She leans her forehead onto her hands on top of the wall. Her voice is hollow and bleak. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“This fake marriage.”

My heart thunders so loud that I swear it bounces off the walls. “Why not? Your father leaves soon.”

Simone lifts her head and stares at the cinderblock wall surrounding the pool. “It’s not worth it.”

I sigh and cross my arms over my bare chest like I keep my heart from plopping into the water. “Why? Because of our argument months ago, or what I did to you in the shed today? Or is it because of something else?”

“All of it.” She flips her water-logged ponytail to the other side, and I want to kiss her neck. “It was. I fucked up at the club, but that doesn’t mean I’m now your indentured whore.”

I wince, but she doesn’t see it. “I’m sorry.”

Simone blows a sigh against the pool wall. I move closer and lift her ponytail, twirling it with my fingers and snort. “I’m such a whore now because I’ll do anything for sex.”

She turns her head, whipping her hair from my hand. She glares at me with an arched blonde eyebrow but a frown on her lips. I miss the taste of her lips on my tongue. “Awesome. I’m sure Tansy loves that.” I have no desire to be up Tansy’s cooch but can’t tell Simone this. It’ll knock our lives out of balance. Glaciers will melt, volcanos will erupt, sinkholes will swallow cities, and some asshole will fucking reboot goddamn Friends.

“What about you?” I cage her between my arms, propped on the pool’s edge, and breathe against her neck. “Do you love it?”

She stutters, “Sex?” I nod against her head, having a beautiful view inside her bikini bra. “It’s okay.”

I straighten with a scowl. “Are you saying I’m not good at it? Ouch.” But it’s not like I have a hell of a lot of experience.

Simone gasps but mumbles, “You’re good.”

“I’m messing up somewhere. No orgasms or waterfalls.”

Her shoulders tense again with a shrug. “It’s not you.”

“Ha. Ha. Sure.” I slide my hand over my face as I sigh. “Oh. Maybe you come with… Damn.”

Shaking her head, Simone seems adamant as her limp ponytail swishes and drips down her back. “Not with anyone else, either. I haven’t felt like it, I guess.”

Lifting both hands to my face, I scratch my fingers over my light beard. I left my razor at Amos’s. I’ll need to shave soon or look like one of those guys from ZZ Top. I suppose I’ll be back with Amos after Simone’s graduation. Fuck me.

I pull her arm, so she turns. Her gaze falls to my chest while mine goes to hers. Simone doesn’t realize how much she turns me on. There’s something about her I’ve never been able to resist. Maybe it’s everything about her.

I scrape my hard-on against her groin, and she looks up at me. “Don’t do this,” she whispers.

“What am I doing?” I smirk and swirl my dick over her, but Simone acts like she’s afraid.

“You’re too close.” Simone’s hands tremble as she pushes damp hair strands behind her ears. Her blue nail polish is darker than this morning. “We don’t need to be when no one is around.”

I cock my head with a laugh. “I’m okay with it if you can’t tell.”

“Just stop,” she mutters toward the water.

I lean down to her ear. “I could take you right here.” I reach down to lift her ass, and her legs fall open as I set her against the wall. I move my hand between us to slip my fingers into her bikini. Brushing through her pubic hair, I tease her open slit and sigh. “I’m hooked on your pussy. The feel of thrusting into you right here,” I push my finger inside her more and move it up and down as I watch her breathing faster, “is so fucking hot. I miss filling you with my cum.” I rub my nose against her temple as I remove my hand and thrust my dick between her legs.

“But your cum could fertilize an egg.”

I stop breathing, but not for the reason I usually do with this topic.

While holding Simone with one hand, I hold on to the wall with my other and push my hips against hers, cursing our damn clothes. I moan against her cheek. “What if I want it to?” I bite my lip, a multitude of thoughts bombarding me.

Simone shakes her head. “Oh, my God. You don’t mean that.”

I shrug. “Maybe I do.” She shoves my arms, and I push off the wall to look at her. “What?”

“We played this painful game with our real marriage in Durham. I don’t want to play anymore. A mere few months ago, you were adamant having children was not an option because of cystic fibrosis, even if I had tested negative as a carrier. And then you and me. We’re not a thing. I will not be having your baby.” Simone closes her eyes and then glares at the wall. “We’re dating other people and shouldn’t be talking about a pregnancy happening. What the fuck are we doing?”