Page 31 of Golden Days

“Rosie, shh!” I whisper-yell at her with an incredulous look on my face.

“Oh please, you have a major crush on him, I can see it all over your face. And I’m sure he’d like to bone you. I mean, look how hot you are.”

“Stop, please. No boning will be happening.” I look around frantically, making sure no one is around to hear her ridiculous words.

“Sure, babe. Sure. I think you need a good dicking, though. It’s not like Brody was amazing in the sack or anything.”

I groan. “I’m going home. You have a good work shift,” I say, shaking my head.

“See you tomorrow!” she sing-songs after me. I can still hear her cackling as the door closes behind me.

By the time I reach my car, the clouds that have been creeping in all day have turned downright ominous, mirroring my darkening mood. The more I think about Levi's offer, the more I want to do it. But I know I can't, and that pisses me off.

I’m careful on the way back to the apartment, driving ten miles per hour in the pouring rain. The quick run from the car to the building drenches me completely, and I start to shiver a little as I get inside the chilly apartment.

I am blissfully alone, the guys no doubt out at some bar for the rest of the night, and I take the opportunity to have some me time and take a bath. I add lots of bubbles and light some candles in the bathroom, the steam already warming me back up. As I peel off my wet clothes, my mind wanders back to Levi. But instead of stewing about the pro-am again, I’m thinking about how good he looked at the range today. Those tanned arms flexing as he swung the club, the way the green polo set After a moment of hesitation, I pull out my vibrator from its hiding spot under the sink. It’s still in its box. I’ve wanted to use it on multiple occasions but always felt awkward with the guys being in the apartment. Plus, I had Brody, even though we rarely did anything towards the end of our relationship.

Safe to say, it’s been a while, and I am too pent up not to do something about it. I lock the door and dim the lights, getting in the tub. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus floods my senses, and I can already feel the stress of the day leaving my body.

I contemplate pulling something up on my phone, since I never seem to get myself off just by using my imagination, but I don’t want to drop it in the water. So I close my eyes and let my mind wander. Unsurprisingly, it goes back to the one man that I’ve been constantly thinking of over the last week.

My hand trails the toy down between my breasts, down my stomach, to the apex of my thighs. I don’t turn it on yet, but bring it down to my sensitive clit, and circle it a few times.

I think of Levi when he approached me at the simulator, how calloused his hands were, no doubt from gripping the clubs on a daily basis. The vivid image of his hand closing around my wrist makes me moan. What if his hand were to close around my throat instead?

In my imagination, Levi stands behind me, one hand on my hip, the other on my wrist, showing me how it should bend. He leans further into me and tells me how well I play, how exquisite my form is. He brushes his fingers against the pulse at my wrist and trails his fingers higher, over my forearm, tickling the inside of my elbow. Those long fingers are tiptoeing over my shoulder and moving up my neck. Finally, blessedly, his hand splays at the base of my throat. He tilts my head back to meet his eyes. My lips part and he leans in closer and closer.

The moment his lips latch onto mine, his hand tightens around my throat and I am a fucking puddle in his arms. His other hand moves from my hip, skimming the bottom of my dress and caressing my thigh. Tongue hot and firm against mine, his fingers delve higher and higher until he reaches the front of my dress uniform. When his fingers move over my naked pussy, I stop breathing.

His large palm cups me and I moan. The hand around my throat tightens just a fraction and he circles my clit with one finger. Then, he lets go of my throat and grips my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss.

I turn the vibrator on and hold my breath as the pressure in my core builds and builds, and when fantasy Levi tells me I’m his “dirty little slut,” I come apart into a million pieces.

My breath comes out in loud gasps and my legs quiver under the bubbles floating on the water. I open my eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to bring my heart rate down. The toy still vibrates against my clit. I flick the off button and let out a loud laugh.

Holy fuck.

I just masturbated to the thought of Levi Carmichael doing filthy things to me. So much for not having a crush on him.

The next day, I avoid Levi like the plague, which is harder than I anticipate. The man is everywhere. If he’s not on the course, he’s practicing at the range or at the restaurant with Ezra.

I watch him now as he straps his clubs to his golf cart, muscles flexing with the movement. My body flushes all over as I remember the vision of his hand around my throat.

The man exudes such confidence and power, and it’s so easy to get lost in his aura. There’s something brutish about him too that I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s always so serious, even when he’s chatting with his longtime friends.

He rarely cracks a smile and rarely jokes around—at least not when I’m around—and I can’t tell if he just likes to keep to himself, or if he genuinely doesn’t like people. I’m usually pretty good at reading people based on their facial expressions and emotions, but with Levi it’s hard to tell what might be going on in his head.

He turns and catches my eye, and I quickly avert my gaze, blushing. I’m stationed at the check-in counter, by the window, in full view of the golf cart parking area. When I turn my head, I catch a glimpse of my face on the screen of the computer. It’s a shade of red that could rival any lobster out there.

Fuck. Why can’t I stop thinking about the way he touched me that day at the simulator? And now that I’ve imagined the things he could do to me, I’m off kilter in his presence. Even from afar.

My worst fear comes to life when Levi and Ezra enter the clubhouse, heading straight for the check-in counter. For me.

“Hello, Miss Thomas.”

“Good morning, sir,” I say, pulling up his reservation in the system. “Playing eighteen holes today?”

When I look up at him, he’s frowning down at me. “Why are you stationed here?”