Epilogue
Sam
Two Years Later…
Her date is at least fifteen years older than her and could probably find steady work as a stunt double for Smokey the Bear.
Not that I care. I definitely don’t care who Liz Thompson is sleeping with.
She laughs at something Smokey says and then excuses herself and heads to the restroom, her tight ass swinging with every step.
“You’re staring,” Max says.
I bring my attention back to my table and find William and Max both studying me. Max is smirking. Asshole. “I’m not staring at anything.”
“You were definitely staring,” Will says. “And before you were staring at her, you were giving her date the I’m-going-to-hang-you-by-your-balls-over-a-pit-of-vipers look.”
“Don’t give him a hard time,” Max says. “That’s a completely normal reaction to have when you catch someone out with your wife . . . but wait. She’s not your wife, is she? Or your girlfriend even? Huh.”
Will smirks. “Can’t tell by the way he’s looking at her.”
I lean back in the booth. “You’re both assholes.”
“You could just ask her out,” Max suggests.
“I’ll pass,” I say, but the words come out as a growl, revealing too much. I clear my throat. “Excuse me.”
I head back toward the bathrooms with a half-cocked plan to corner her and make her talk to me. But about what? We haven’t talked since last summer—out of respect for my sister Della, I’ve kept my distance. The last thing my pregnant sister needs is to see her big brother making nice with the woman who nearly tore her world apart.
When I reach the back hallway, I spot Liz and my steps slow. Smokey the Bear must have snuck back here to meet her when I wasn’t looking. He’s shoving his tongue down her throat and feeling her up. Jesus. Couldn’t they at least go somewhere private?
Smokey goes in for another kiss, and Liz turns her head to the side. “Sorry,” she says. “I don’t have sex on the first date. Ever.”
I grunt and watch for a minute, wondering if he’s going to buy the shit she’s shoveling.
“Want me to take it slow, baby?” her date asks. “I can take it slow. With me, you’ll want it to last all night.”
“Listen, Ha—”
“If you’d excuse me,” I say, interrupting. I can’t stomach much more of this.
Liz narrows those pretty blue eyes at me and lifts her chin. “Did you need something?”
“Restroom.” I point behind her.
She blushes prettily. Everything Liz does is pretty. The way she drinks a beer is pretty, the way she nuzzles her pillow in her sleep, the way she kisses her way down my stomach before . . .
Fuck that. I skim my eyes over her date. If that’s what Liz wants, she can have it. There’s no reason for me to stand in her way. I attempt a smile. “You two kids have fun.”
I push into the bathroom and let the water run hot in the sink as I stare at myself in the mirror. “You don’t need her, Bradshaw,” I mutter at my reflection, and my stomach knots at the words. I may not need her, but I want her—a want that’s so intoxicating, so potent, it masquerades as need. I want her. I miss her. But none of that matters because I can’t forgive her.
THE END
Reckless and Real, Book 1 by Lexi Ryan
Chapter One
Liz
Riverrat69: I’m jealous of your date tomorrow.
Tink24: Why? I thought you didn’t like dating.
Riverrat69: I’m jealous of what he gets to do to you. Or maybe I’m just thinking of what I’d do to you if I were your date.
Tink24: Do tell . . .
Riverrat69: I’d start by making sure you wore a skirt. With nothing underneath.
Tink24: Maybe that could be arranged . . .
Riverrat69: I’d take you somewhere with really good wine, and I’d have you sit next to me in the booth so I could watch you enjoy your food and your wine, and so it would be easier to slide my hand under your skirt. Have you ever gotten off in the middle of a crowded room?
Tink24: Can’t say that I have . . . Not sure that I could . . .
Riverrat69: Don’t worry. I’d get you there. My touch would be light at first, warming you up while you sipped your wine. Then I’d slide a finger inside of you and whisper in your ear. The waiter would come over, and you’d have to order. I think it would turn you on—knowing I was touching you like that and we could so easily get caught.
Tink24: It might. If you played it right.
Riverrat69: Oh, I’d play it right. Soon, I’d add a second finger and feel you squeeze around me. Are you a screamer? Because the key to getting off in public is not letting anyone else know what’s happening under the table. Could you be quiet while I fucked you with my fingers?