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?

Tink24: I think I could manage, but what about you in all of this?

Riverrat69: This is just the foreplay, baby. If you’re wet, I’m good.

Tink24: I would be . . . I am.

Riverrat69: It’d be after the restaurant. After I got you off right there in public, after I watched pleasure wash over your face as you came, then it would be my turn.

Tink24: Would you take me home? Tie me up?

Riverrat69: Maybe we’d go to your place but I’d bring everything I needed to tie you to the bed. Would you like that?

Tink24: I want that.

Riverrat69: Since this is all just a fantasy and we both know you’ll be with some other idiot tomorrow night, would you do me a favor?

Tink24: What’s that?

Riverrat69: Put your hand in your panties.

Tink24: Who said I’m wearing panties?

Riverrat69: You’re going to be the death of me.

Rereading last night’s conversation has me shifting uncomfortably in bed. One hell of a way to start my day, but I went to sleep thinking about him, dreamed about him, woke with him on my mind.

I close my eyes and picture everything he described. I imagine Sam next to me in the restaurant. Sam whispering dirty words in my ear while he fingers me under the table.

I press my head into the pillow and whimper. Sam would do those things. And as much as I question my ability to orgasm in a public place, I know Sam could do it. He’d have me coming on his hand before dessert came. And after . . .

Rolling over, I bury my face in the pillow. It doesn’t matter what would happen next. Like River said, everything he described is just a fantasy. And this idea in my head that my anonymous online friend—who likes to talk dirty to me, who wants to tie me up—the idea that he is Sam, that Sam is River, that’s probably just a fantasy too. Albeit a long-running one.

And if it is Sam, the idea that he could forgive me enough to want to do those things with me again? That’s definitely a fantasy.

* * *

Sam

I plunge my hands into her hair and open my mouth against her breast, drawing her nipple between my teeth—a little rough, just like she likes it. She’s blindfolded and her hands are stretched above her head, tied with my ropes to the second floor banister. She’s completely at my mercy, a fact that arouses us both.

I’m working my way down her body, kissing, tasting, licking every inch of skin along the way. Liz moans my name. I don’t stop. Instead, I suck at the tender flesh over her hipbone and slide my hand between her legs, where she’s hot and slick and ready for me.