Summer Fling Read online

  Summer Fling

  Tarrah Anders

  COPYRIGHT © 2018– TARRAH ANDERS

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.

  Tarrah Anders | Tarrah Anders, LLC [email protected] |www.tarrahanders.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Formatting: Tarrah Anders, LLC

  Cover: MadHat Books Studios, https://madhatbooks.com/

  Editing: Laura Hull- Red Pen Princess, Sara Miller -Pretty Little Book PR

  Ordering Information: Summer Fling | Tarrah Anders.

  EBOOK ISBN 978-0-9994426-9-2

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7201333-0-8

  Contents

  Before Summer Starts

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Thank you

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Tarrah Anders

  About the Author

  This book towards the end may not have happened because of the spiny wheel of death that Mac users despise with a fury of a thousand hornets.

  To the Mac Geniuses of the world, for saving my sanity and making sure I didn’t hyperventilate because I saved my edited document to my desktop rather than my drive.

  Before Summer Starts

  My back slams against the wall. His soft hands glide along the column of my neck and through my hair, tugging slightly, as he locks his mouth over mine.

  He groans softly into my mouth as our tongues tangle together. His hands travel down to my ass, then grab a handful and squeeze. My hands fumble with the buttons on his pants, and having no success. Alcohol makes my fingers drunk too. They are not completely functioning or working correctly with my brain.

  This is so unlike me.

  I don’t know this guy and yet I’m all over him.

  Like, All. Over. Him!

  My brain is a little foggy, but I know what I’m doing. And all I want to do is take this gorgeous man for a ride

  What’s his name again? Roy?

  “These clothes are in my way,” I mumble against his lips.

  He pulls back with a sexy smirk. “What do you want to do about it?” he asks, his voice throaty and a little on the gravelly side.

  “I want them gone,” I say boldly.

  This isn’t me. This is drunk me. Only she has the balls to say things like that.

  Sober me is a little more on the shy side.

  He pulls his shirt over his head, showing off a well-defined chest, perfect oval-shaped nipples, and enough abs to do my laundry on.

  I lick my lips and kick off my flip-flops as he reaches for me. His hand slides under my tank top and he begins to pull it up and over my head, leaving me in my shorts and bikini top.

  He toys with the strings securing the triangles of fabric to my body as I pull him closer to kiss him again.

  He kisses really good.

  I feel my bikini top loosening and then his hands brushing against the sides of my breasts. He moves the fabric covering my breast and palms the flesh he reveals. I moan as he squeezes and rolls the peak of my nipple between his fingers.

  My arms drape around his neck, and I pull our topless chests against one another. Our skin is hot and the caress feels exquisite skin to skin. We stumble through my house and down the small hallway to the bedroom. He kicks the door closed and I break away from him.

  I unbutton my shorts and shimmy out of them. I kick them off of my ankles and stand in front of him wearing only my bikini bottoms. The glow from the streetlight outside my window casts a low light on me, not illuminating me entirely, but highlighting some of my attributes.

  “Damn.” He blows out a breath as he pushes the buttons on his shorts through the buttonholes and lets his shorts drop. He steps out of them and I can’t stop staring it him.

  All of him.

  His cock is magnificent as it stands erect, pointing at me, as if singling out its prey. His cock is saying to me, "You. I want you."

  He slowly walks over to me and pushes me by the hips onto the bed. He crawls over me and smiles as he leans down to kiss me lightly. The soft kisses change into something more as our tongues sweep against each other repeatedly. His cock brushes against my thigh and ever so teasingly against my center, pressing into my folds just the slightest bit, as his hips angle over my body.

  “Shit. Do you have a condom?” he whispers, halting his movements.

  Underneath him, I lean over to the nightstand beside my bed and fumble around with the contents of the drawer until my fingers find the edge of my hidden treasure: the foil packet of a Magnum condom. I hand it to him and in no time, he’s sheathed himself and is breaching my entrance.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asks, giving me an out, his voice low and sultry.

  “Please,” I beg him, lifting my hips. "I want you."

  As if that was all he needed, he inches himself in. Filling me until he can't go any further, he pulls back then pushes back in with a grunt. His hips meet mine as our bodies move against one another fluidly as if we've done this together many times. My legs wrap around his waist, my heels pushing him into me as I give and take. The pressure builds up and I can almost feel my orgasm coming, but he changes up the motion and moves onto his knees, lifting my hips and changing the angle at which he drives his cock into me.

  With repeated thrusts in this new position, my orgasm builds back up quickly. Within seconds, my vision goes black and I’m loudly moaning my appreciation for this man. As I come down from the high, he maintains the speed of his hips, while one hand finds my breast and kneads my electrified skin. I run my hand down my stomach, find my clit, and run my finger along my already sensitive bud.

  “Fuck!” he breathes out as he looks down at where we are joined, where my fingers are slowly drawing another orgasm forward, lightly rubbing around his length in my own feverish movements.

  Grunts escape his open mouth, and then he breathes out that he’s coming, just as I vigorously rub myself to orgasm again. He presses himself to the hilt as his cock swells and twitches inside of me as we climax simultaneously. Languidly, he pushes and pulls, then bends over and rests his head against my shoulder, breathing heavily.

  “I don’t want to leave this spot. You feel amazing,” he says into my skin.

  “I wish I could tell you can stay, but I don’t think that's possible,” I respond with a laugh. A hiccup interrupts my giggle, which makes me laugh some more.

  He chuckles as he removes himself from me. “Bathroom?”

  “Down the hall, first door on your left.”

  He disappears out the door, naked without a
care in the world, and returns a moment later. I dash across the hall to relieve myself as well. When I stumble back into the bedroom, he’s passed out and snoring lightly, half of his body hanging off the right side of the bed. I slip under the covers beside him and like him, I pass out.

  1

  HER

  My room is excessively bright this morning and the birds chirping outside the window are screaming, literally screaming. I pull a pillow over my head, which does nothing to dampen the sound. There is a body—a tanned, sculpted body—lying beside me in bed. I lift the covers and notice that not only am I naked, but so is he.

  Who the hell is this guy?

  What the hell happened last night?

  I peek over and notice that he's hot. At least drunk me has standards. God, I hope I didn't hook up with a tourist, I think to myself as I rub my hand down my face. If he is a tourist, maybe he won’t be hanging out in town, in turn hanging around me, one can only hope.

  I get out of bed by rolling out. I fall onto the floor and try to use my jelly arms to lift myself up. While last night’s antics are taking a toll on me this morning, I still remember that today marks the first official day of summer and the day that all the tourists decide to start their vacations in our quiet town of Sweeny, a lake town located in Northern California.

  I shuffle my feet one in front of the other while rubbing my eyes and almost walk into the wall.

  “It’s about time you woke up girl.” My best friend and roommate, Effie, cheerfully says from the kitchen table as I enter the room. She takes a bite out of her toast and chews. The sound of her chewing seems to echo off the walls and pierce my eardrums. I run my hands through my hair and move to the fridge in search of water.

  “You’re so loud. Can you chew quieter, please?” I groan.

  “Emma! Just because you drank your weight in whatever that tonic was last night, doesn’t mean I need to curb my appreciation for carbs.”

  “I went shot for shot with your sister. It definitely wasn’t tonic,” I whisper-shout at her using air quotes around my friend’s choice of words.

  “All alcohol is tonic. You know that. Just like my mama always said.”

  “If I had more brain power available to me at this moment, I would have one helluva ‘your mom’ joke for you. But I need to recharge so I can get to town.”

  “Willie is opening the shop for you today,” she says absently as she takes another loud bite.

  “What?”

  “She may or may not have been going shot for shot with you.” She snickers.

  “I don’t know what that means.” My brain hurts just standing here.

  “I’m just saying the city won’t need to water the plants at the park anytime soon.”

  I roll my eyes and chug the water I’m fisting.

  “You know, you aren’t getting any younger. All that tonic drinking is going to catch up to you,” Effie says while still chewing that piece of toast.

  “You act as if I’m ancient. I’m not even thirty yet.” I want to stomp my feet, but as I lean against the wall, I realize leaning is the most movement my body will allow.

  “We aren’t in college no more. We have actual responsibilities…” Effie starts.

  “You need to stop letting your mother influence you so much. One of these days… One of these days, Effie, I’m going to get you so drunk you forget your name.” I point my finger at her and smirk; at least, I think I smirk. My whole body hurts and coordinating the myriad of facial muscles required for making expressions right now feels especially difficult.

  “Like you last night?”

  “Oh, shush.” I turn and walk right into the corner of the doorway to the hall. I right myself, and then head to the bathroom to start my day as I try to ignore her snickering behind me.

  “By the way, some of your clothes are over by the front door and there's some truck in the driveway! Are you in that bedroom by yourself?”

  I practically pushed the hot man out of the house while Effie was in the shower. He woke up just as groggy as I did, but looking delicious nonetheless as he slowly moved around my bedroom. We didn’t say much, but when we were both outside at our respective cars, we lingered and almost kissed goodbye, but ended up hugging awkwardly instead.

  Ten minutes later, I pull my Jeep into the parking spot behind the store I co-own with Willie, Effie’s twin and much more enigmatic sister. It’s a cute little clothing boutique in the main part of town called Small Town Digs. My store is on the corner next to the only 24-hour diner in town. I guzzle my fourth water bottle of the day, climb out of the car, and walk in through the back door. I feel marginally better but still slightly hungover.

  The A/C hits me in the face—a magnificent feeling—as I wander through the back. I place my shoulder bag on my desk and head to the front of the store. I can hear Willie talking to a customer off to one side of the retail space as I slide behind the counter. Gently gathering up my long honey blonde hair, I pull it up into a messy bun as I take a look around the store. The customer and Willie slowly walk up to the counter and I put on my best smile and greet them.

  Willie winks at me as she takes a spot behind the register and rings up the young woman. Moments later, we’re sitting quietly beside one another.

  “Today’s the first day,” she says regarding tourist season while we watch people who are clearly not locals’ mill around by the front windows.

  Staring into the distance with her, I take a deep breath and hold up my water bottle.

  “Here’s to ignoring all the perverse comments and staying far away from any visiting man-meat.” I take a gulp.

  “You know that not all guys are like him, right?” Willie says.

  She’s talking about the summer fling I had the summer I turned twenty with a guy I met on the lake. It was your typical romance story. We met, we frolicked, we fell in love—or rather, I did—and then I found out he was married. I learned that all his promises were empty lies.

  That was the old me, the naive me. Now, seven years later, I haven’t had any more summer hook-ups and I plan to keep it that way.

  “We don’t know that. Those tourist guys will say whatever it takes to get into a townie’s pants. We’re like unicorns to them. We’re beautiful and we’re too good to be true. They also think that we’re all innocent and they want to be the ones to corrupt us.”

  “You sure do have a high opinion of yourself.” Willie scrunches her nose.

  “Oh, please. It’s as if the water here has magical powers to make us hot. You know that; they know that.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror yet today? You don’t look as hot as you’re playing yourself to be,” she jokes.

  “That’s because I drink fairly. I don’t pretend that I’m drinking; I drink." I give her a pointed look. "Listen, I’m just being real. This town has some attractive people living here, likely because we’re so far from civilization and the negativity and harshness of the big cities haven’t completely drained our souls.”

  “Says the girl who is constantly on her phone, browsing the big bad world outside of Sweeny.”

  “I like to stay current with what's happening outside of the bubble of Sweeny.” I flick a piece of lint off my shirt.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to dust off the cobwebs,” she teases.

  “I have dated here and there. It’s not like I’ve been completely celibate all these years,” I say while rolling my eyes and ignoring the need to gossip about the flashes of last night I can remember with the gorgeous man who was in my bed this morning.

  HIM

  It’s not every day you decide to uproot your life and move to bum-fuck Egypt with no real plan in mind at the start of the summer. Our intention is to feel out the town of Sweeny as a potential location for our brand spankin’ new veterinary practice. A vet practice that I would have no clue how to run, but my friend and travel companion is well versed in how to do all that, so he talked me into taking the plunge.

  Why Sweeny? One might ask
.

  Because my idiot best friend and business partner, Cyrus, used to come here during the summer while growing up and said this was where we should set up shop. We headed out here with all the best intentions and plans to start anew, something that I jumped at the chance to do. I have a standing weekend rotation back in the city, but other than that, a chance to get away was just what I needed.

  This town has no vet clinic within thirty miles and is perfect for two single guys—three, if you count our nomadic friend Jackson who is on this trip with us and hasn’t had his own permanent address in years.

  I’m completely sold on the idea of moving from Sacramento, a thriving town full of all a man could need to survive, to this hole in the wall town with a population of a few thousand. The low population makes the likelihood of folks around here having pets high, and sometimes those pets need a doctor and a local one at that. So here I am. I’m the animal doctor this small town has been waiting for.

  My logic makes sense, but my wants and needs aren’t quite on board yet.

  Cyrus rented a house close to the nearby lake. It was a good choice for us, but even as we pull onto the shaded dirt drive for the third day in a row, the feeling that this is the setting for a horrible b-rated horror film still hasn't gone away. Finally, past the dense copse of trees we come to a house straight from the movies, something that cannot be a real place that someone would live. One-half of the house has floor to ceiling windows overlooking the water and the other half is dark redwood with a wraparound porch with a few chairs facing the driveway. The house doesn’t look like it belongs here, in the middle of nowhere.