G.O.A.T.: Get Some Series

by Love, Frankie

  G.O.A.T.

  Get Some Series

  Frankie Love

  C.M. Seabrook

  Edited by My Brother’s Editor

  Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations Copyright © and 2019 by Frankie Love and C.M. Seabrook

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  G.O.A.T.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue I

  Epilogue II

  Also by Frankie & C.M.

  About Frankie

  About C.M.

  G.O.A.T.

  Greatest of All Time

  The night we met, we lost our virginity under the stars.

  Too fast? No way.

  Years later, it was still the best sex of my life.

  But she disappeared from my life as quickly as she came. Pun intended.

  Now she’s back and I’m not letting her go.

  Possessive much? Hell yeah.

  Tessa was the girl who got away, but I won’t repeat history.

  She may be scared of getting hurt, lucky for her, I’m not like other men.

  I’m the greatest of all time. Turns out - so is she.

  Dear You,

  Nash is a ruggedly handsome rock-climber who knows how to use his hands.

  And his tongue. And his c*ck.

  Grab a harness and let him guide the way ... he’s the expert after all!

  Xo, Frankie & Chantel

  Chapter One

  Nash

  “The usual?” Pax asks when I sit at the bar, not waiting for my response as he pours me a double scotch straight up. The man works for me part-time as one of my skydiving instructors, but he also moonlights at the Old Barn on the weekend. Apparently, I’m not paying him enough. At least that’s what he keeps telling me.

  Truth is, we pay our guys double what our competition pays. But it’s worth it, because we only hire the best. Which is why we were voted the top adventure company this side of the Rockies two years in a row.

  Pax shoves the glass toward me. “Any big plans tonight, boss?”

  I grunt and shake my head, taking a deep sip of the amber liquid. “You’re looking at it.”

  “Shit, sometimes I think you’re still on military schedule. Loosen up. Have a bit of fun.” He nods at a group of women who’ve just come into the bar, and they giggle when they see us looking. “I’m sure even you could find a pair of legs to spread out of that bunch.”

  “You kiss your mamma with that mouth?” I ask, turning my back on the women.

  Pax laughs. “You really are as uptight as you seem.”

  Rigid. Uptight. Boring. Yeah, I’ve heard it all before. The guys love to tease the shit out of me about my lack of a love life. But the truth is, I’ve never had a problem getting a woman into my bed.

  But unlike Pax, I don’t want just any pussy.

  I want the one that got away.

  Too bad the only thing I know about her is her first name - Tessa. And that she was here, in this town of Barley Ridge years ago, on a summer night I’ll never forget.

  The night before I shipped off on my first mission.

  But after what was the greatest experience of my young life, and I’d thought hers too, I’d realized that she’d given me the slip by giving me the wrong number.

  I finish my drink and sigh, remembering those expressive brown eyes, the way her pale skin shimmered in the moonlight, the way her silky hair tangled around my fingers as I buried my aching cock inside of her.

  Shit. Even the memory makes me hard. But even then I knew she’d been too good for me. I mean, how often does the guy from the wrong side of the tracks, end up with the good, little rich girl? Other than in cheesy eighties movies, the answer is never.

  Maybe it was best she’d given me a wrong number. She’d been headed off to Harvard that fall, and I was just starting my career in the military.

  But I’m back now, and I can’t help but take a second glance at every pretty blonde that walks by, hoping that it might be her.

  It never is, but it hasn’t stopped me from looking.

  I place a ten on the bar and slip off the stool, knowing the only thing that’ll appease the ache in my balls tonight is a long run, followed by a cold shower. I’ve tried relieving it other ways, women, booze, any adrenaline rush I can find, but nothing has lived up to that one night. And I have a feeling nothing and no one ever will.

  I’m about to leave when I hear a woman’s high-pitch laugh, her voice raised as she tries to speak over the music that’s blaring from the speakers. “Come on, Tessa, tell us. Who’s your G.O.A.T.?”

  I freeze when I hear the name - Tessa.

  Could it be her?

  I know the odds are slim. Whoever my Tessa was, after years of searching, I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s never coming back here. I glance over my shoulder anyway, holding my breath as I scan the bar, but a pole blocks my view of this Tessa. I do see her friend, a pretty brunette, who’ve I seen in town a couple of times. She’s definitely a local. But I don’t know her name, only that she seems to be a bit of a hermit, keeping to herself.

  “Yeah, Tessa, tell us,” one of the other women says, her voice slurred. It’s obvious they’ve all had a few drinks already.

  “You’re all terrible,” this Tessa says, shifting slightly so I see a wisp of blonde hair.

  “We told you ours,” a redhead says. I know this one, she’s usually got a resting bitch face on, but right now she seems delighted in making this Tessa squirm. “Well, everyone except Kenna. But she’s probably been with too many guys to remember her greatest of all time.”

  There's laughter, and the woman who I assume is Kenna turns bright red. I don’t know the facts, but there’s no way in hell the shy little brunette is the harlot the redhead claims she is. Shit, the way she blushes when she sees me looking at her makes me wonder if she’s ever even been with a man.

  But it’s not Kenna I’m interested in. It’s the blonde whose face I still haven’t seen.

  “Fine,” the girl behind the post says, placing a hand on Kenna’s arm and giving it a squeeze.

  God there’s something familiar about that voice. Soft, and sweet, and—

  “His name was Nash.”

  Fuck.

  It can’t be.

  But I know it is.

  “Oooh.” The redhead claps her hands in mock delight. “You have to tell us all the juicy little details.”

  “Oh my God, yes,” another woman says, squealing like she just won the fucking lottery.

  That’s when I finally see her. Tessa leans forward, giving me a view of her perfect profile. Softly scooped nose, full lips, blonde hair that’s a few shades darker and a little longer. But I know instantly that it’s her.

  It’s her. My Tessa.

  And she’s even more beautiful than I remember.

  A blush stains her cheeks, but I also notice how she glances at her friend, Kenna, and gives her a small smile. “It was the summer before I left for Harvard. I barely knew the guy—”

  “I guess promiscuity runs in the family,” the redhead says, laughing.

  “Don’t be a bitch, Stacey.”

  “What?” The redhead is still laughing. “I’m just stating the obvious.”
<
br />   There are more words spoken, but I don’t hear them all.

  I’m not sure what Stacey’s vicious comments are about, but I can tell both Tessa and Kenna are done with it. They’re already getting off their stools and grabbing their purses.

  There’s a small commotion among the women, but I don’t hear anything else that’s said. I’m just trying to think of a plan to get Tessa’s attention - because there’s no chance in hell I’m letting her walk away again.

  At least not without an explanation.

  And maybe a round two.

  Chapter Two

  Tessa

  “Don’t let her comments get to you,” I tell my cousin as we walk through the crowded bar. “She’s just jealous.”

  “Jealous of what?” Kenna asks, glancing down at her ripped jeans and baggy top, frowning. “God, I shouldn’t have let you talk me into coming here.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think Stacey would still be such a bitch after all these years. And I wanted to have a little fun with my favorite cousin.”

  “I know. And out of anyone in this world, you deserve a night out. But maybe we can take this party back to my place away from Stacey and her goons.”

  “Sure,” I tell her, linking my arm with hers. I’ve already had a few drinks, and I’m feeling tipsy. Okay, that’s probably an understatement. I feel a lot tipsy. But after the week I’ve had, I deserve to have a little fun. I nudge her and smile. “But you still owe me a night out.”

  “And you owe me a dance,” a deep, familiar voice says behind me. A voice that makes my core clench and heat to race through my entire body.

  I turn slowly, my heart beating frantically when I meet a pair of familiar blue eyes. “Oh my God, Nash.”

  “Nash?” Kenna asks, her eyes widening. She leans closer, and I know she’s feeling as tipsy as I am because she whisper-yells, “Is that your G.O.A.T.?”

  I slap her arm, glaring at her, and I hear Nash chuckle.

  It is him.

  All six-foot-four of muscle and pure male sexiness. He looks the same. A few years older, the scruff on his jaw is new, and his hair seems darker, but I’d know those eyes anywhere. Plus, there’s his scent. It draws me closer, reminding me of a summer night that rocked my world, and ruined me for all other men.

  But he’d never called.

  I should be angry. And sure, for a time I was. But right now, I’m just overwhelmed at seeing him here after all these years. Plus, there’s the way my body is reacting. I can almost feel those big hands of his on my skin, the rasp of his kiss against my lips.

  “Hi, Tessa,” he says, that deep, rich voice making my body hum with desire. A feeling I haven’t felt in a very long time, not even with my fiancé.

  “Long time no see,” I say, my words as cliché as my emotions. After all this time I’m still looking at him and thinking he was the one who got away. God, I’d fallen quick and hard for him. And I’d thought he’d felt the same. But if this week has proven anything, it’s that my choice in men suck, big time.

  And yet, my body aches for one more kiss, one more touch. If anything to prove that it wasn’t a fantasy all those years ago. There’s also a part of me that wants, no needs to prove I’m still desirable. A rebound. Yeah, that’s exactly what I need.

  Nash steps closer, so close I can feel the tug of energy between us. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “You should have called then,” I say, tilting my chin up at him defiantly, and yet finding myself leaning closer, even though minutes ago I was desperate to get out of the Barn. Now though, I can’t imagine leaving without at least one dance. The dance I promised Nash all those nights ago. And maybe something more.

  “You gave me a shit number, Tessa. Thought you were trying to dodge a bullet.” His eyes are fixed on mine and I can practically read Kenna’s mind when she gives my arm a small squeeze. This is one way to get over your fiancé.

  I came to Barley Ridge to get away from a broken heart. I’m a jilted bride, a week before my wedding. It was only days ago I walked in on Brent and Lila - my best friend no less - going at it in my bed.

  My bed!

  But my heart isn’t really broken. Brent, a lawyer with an Ivy League degree, was a safe bet ... at least that’s what I thought. And after a lifetime of pulling up my bootstraps and making it on my own, the idea of having a man take care of me wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

  Except, of course, Brent only cared about his cock.

  Now, I’m looking at a man so different than my ex that my pussy is practically exploding. Nash is all testosterone and alpha-goodness. And the way he is looking at me now, like he already possesses, like he’ll stop at nothing to make me his ...at least for tonight, has me aching with a need I’d forgotten.

  The only way Brent ever really looked at me, was in a I’ll-have-a-401k and Let’s-get-you-on-my-health-insurance sort of way.

  But Nash, he’s looking at me like he could take care of me in a way only he ever has.

  There’s a reason he’s my G.O.A.T., and why he’ll probably always hold that title. He was incredible. He touched me like he knew my body, looked at me like he could see my soul, and kissed me like he’d never let me go.

  Nash and I only hooked up once and yet that one time still is what I think about every time I’ve slept with another man. It’s his cock, his body, his hands that get me to orgasm.

  And his tongue ... Oh God, I’ve come so hard remembering that tongue. The way he kissed me, licked me, sucked me until I was screaming out in pleasure.

  “Tessa?” Nash says my name, and I blink, realizing I’m not alone in the privacy of my bedroom - I’m in a public place imagining Nash’s mouth on my pussy, working me over the way I need. Really, really need. Brent couldn’t work his way around a 1x4 piece of wood. Nash? He’s more like a 2x10.

  “Sorry, what?” I ask, trying to understand his words before I get lost in my memory of his cock buried so deep inside me I couldn’t walk the next day.

  “You gave me a wrong number,” he says again.

  “If I did, it wasn’t on purpose. I thought you were the one trying to ditch me.”

  He laughs, a laugh filled with regret and promise. Promises that this time I want him to deliver on.

  “In that case, Tessa,” he growls. “You need to turn around and get your cute ass on the dance floor. We have some lost time to catch up on. And that dance isn’t the only thing you promised me.” He leans closer so that only I can hear his next words. “And I plan on making sure you hold true to those promises.”

  I lick my lips, swallowing hard, liking the idea of Nash telling me what to do ... how to do it.

  He’s the opposite of Brent in every single way and right now, that’s what I need. Wild, uninhibited sex that will make me forget the fact I was just screwed over by the two people I trusted most in the world.

  But right now, I only want one thing - fun.

  And after the week I’ve had, I deserve it. But Kenna wants to leave, and I don’t blame her after the way those women spoke to her.

  “Stay,” she tells me, obviously reading my thoughts when I look at her. “I’m exhausted anyway. And it’s clear you two have some catching up to do.” She gives me a small knowing smirk.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?” I ask, knowing Nash is the perfect way to get over my ex, but also not wanting to ditch my cousin.

  “You know these places aren’t my thing. But you have fun,” she says, squeezing my arm.

  “Love you,” I tell her, giving her a quick hug.

  “Just don’t drink too much,” she says.

  “Ha,” I laugh. “I think I already have.”

  She chuckles and shakes her head, then points a finger at Nash. “Take care of her.”

  “I plan on it,” he says, and there’s a promise in those words that has my pussy clenching in need.

  “So how about that dance?” he asks when Kenna is gone.

  “I think I need another drin
k first,” I tell him. Tonight, there are no rules. And I don’t care if Stacey and her gossiping hens watch me with disapproving looks. I’m tired of caring about what other people think.

  It’s time to finally live my own life.

  Nash orders a couple of shots and we slam them back.

  “Oh God, that’s sweet,” I say, setting them on a table as he takes my hand.

  Confidence oozes off of him in the way I remember. “It’s called ‘A Kick in the Crotch,’” he says, pulling me to the center of the floor, where the music is bumping, and everyone is jumping up and down. Not us though, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close.

  “I won’t kick you where it hurts,” I tell him, chuckling at my own joke. Okay, maybe I’ve already had too much to drink.

  “Good.” Nash’s hands are on me, possessive and yet gentle. “I couldn’t handle you breaking my heart twice.”

  “Heartbreak, huh?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck, looking up in his eyes. God, those eyes. They’re so blue, like a spring day, and they fill me with a strength, a courage that has been lacking these past few years. He towers over me and my body loves it, his sheer hulk makes my pussy drip.

  Nash brushes back my hair, his hot breath on my ear. “That’s what I called it after I never heard from you again.”

  “Smooth lines, Nash. Is that something they teach you in boot camp?”

  He laughs, his head falling back, and I love the ease I feel in his arms. It’s not like that with everyone, or more specifically, anyone. I’ve never truly felt like I fit anywhere. Not at Harvard. Not with my fiancé. Hell, I even felt like an outcast with my friends, so I wasn’t surprised they took Lila’s side when it came to light she was sleeping with Brent.