Page 41 of The Merger

Page List

Font Size:

I free-fall back onto the bed with a sigh.

“I warned you that he can be a dick. So just keep a low profile, and you should be good to go.”

But therein lies the problem. I like Gannon’s dick-ishness, and I might like his dick, too.

What a conundrum this has turned out to be.

Chapter Ten

Gannon

“Twilight golf is my favorite these days,” Jason says, sliding his putter back into his bag. “It’s cooler. Less busy. No pressure to complete the whole course.”

“Be honest. What you really like about it is a lack of competition.”

He slides into the passenger’s seat of the golf cart. “I have no problem with a little competition. I’m here competing with you, aren’t I?”

“I hardly think you’re my competition. But it’s cute that you think so.”

He chuckles as I hit the gas, and we lurch forward to the next hole.

The sun hangs above the trees like it doesn’t want to call it quits on such a nice day. A gentle breeze blows lazily across the course, and the sky is awash in an array of muted colors. After a chaotic day in the office, spending time out here is the best way to relax.

Well, the second-best way to relax. The first isn’t available.

“I could even come multiple times if that’s what you wanted.”

I withhold a groan and casually adjust my cock, hoping Jason is too preoccupied with his phone to notice.

It’s perplexing, really, that I’m struggling this much with having Carys around. At the end of the day, she’s just another woman, and God knows I’ve had attractive women around me all my life. My friends-with-benefits. My brothers’ girlfriends. Hell, Mom’s friends were even hot—some of them still are nice to look at.But Carys?She’s a problem that exceeds a fuckable body and willing spirit.

I’m having one hell of a time solving this riddle. And I have no one to blame for it but myself.

“Do you remember the summer Dad signed me, you, and Renn up for golf lessons, and Renn wound up wrecking the golf cart in a water hazard?” Jason asks.

“Yeah.”

“How old were we?”

“I was sixteen,” I say. “That would put you fourteen and Renn eleven or twelve, I guess.”

“Wow. You just spat those numbers out.”

A smirk twists my lips.

“What?” Jason asks, his brows wrinkled. “What’s that look about?”

I chuckle as we pull to a stop by the next tee. “The pro working at the club that summer had a daughter in college.” I pause. “Can’t remember her name. But Icantell you what her pussy felt like.”

Jason shakes his head and climbs out of the cart.

“I told her I was eighteen,” I say, getting out, too. “We got a lot of use out of the halfway hut. I’ll leave it at that.”

“Should’ve known.”

“Yes, you should’ve.”

He tosses me a little grin as he slides a driver out of his bag.