Hooked on the Golden Boy

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As a certified maneater, my philosophy was simple: a good time, not a long time. Physical? Absolutely. Catching feelings? Hard pass. I never expected to crash and burn for Rowanthe golden retriever of the swim team. I willingly cleared out my roster just to play house with him.

My eyes traced the sharp cut of his chest, dipping down to his abs and that unfair, deeply carved V-line. I grabbed the hem of my dress and yanked it over my head, letting it pool on the floor.

Rowans gaze instantly darkened, heavy and consuming. The sweet, golden boy vanished. His breath hitched, the sound rough and jagged in the quiet room as he spoke. "Let a man handle that."

Chapter 1

Settling down? Not in this lifetime.

Please. Look at me. Flawless skin, legs for days, killer curves, and the literal blueprint for the coquette aesthetic. I was the absolute CEO of roster management. I couldn't buy toothpaste without three guys asking for my IG. I kept a solid rotation of a dozen guys in my DMs, weeding out the weak ones every month.

Then, I froze. Holy shit. Who was he? That skin. That jawline. That build.

I let my gaze drop, taking a subtle, sweeping look below his waist. Damn. He was packing.

I leaned into Harper, layering on my most sickeningly saccharine voice, begging her to get his number for me.

"Fuck off," she said.

Fine. I'd do it myself.

A cold draft hit the back of my neck, bringing a bad premonition that settled deep in my gut. And yep, the universe hated methe absolute second I hit the pool water, my leg completely seized up in a brutal cramp. Right as I was closing in on my target. One more meter. One more meter, and I could have feigned a delicate, helpless swoop right into Rowan's arms.

Instead, I was thrashing and sputtering like an absolute idiot. Right before I blacked out, I clawed frantically at the water until my fingers finally curled into fabric.

"Where's my catch? Where is he?" I asked.

Harper leaned into my line of sight, rolling her eyes so hard they almost got stuck. "Your 'catch' thought you were literally craving seafood. He went to get you spicy takeout."

What? Is this a riddle?

"You passed out and woke up mumbling about your catch," she continued. "I don't know whether to applaud your dedication to the roster or be disgusted by your sheer thirst."

Wait, what?! I didn't even get to touch him, and he just bounced? Hold on. My fingers were locked in a death grip around a clump of wet blue spandex.

Holy shit. Are these swim trunks?

Rowan's panicked face right before I went under flashed through my mind.

Fuck!

So here was the million-dollar question. How did these come off? And who pulled them?

Shame. A minute earlier and he would've caught me hooking my bra. Now I was fully dressed. Tragic, really.

"Hhi." Rowan stared firmly at the linoleum floor, refusing to meet my eyes as he shoved a takeout bag onto the bedside table and pivoted toward the door.

Like hell I was letting him walk out. I stretched my long leg out, blocking his exit.

"You go to State, right?"

A dark flush crept up his neck.

God, he was cute. "Technically, I'm your upperclassman," I added.

"MMaeve."

"Call me Mommy."

"Huh?" His head snapped up, staring at me, wide-eyed and lost.

When it finally clicked that I was messing with him, the tips of his ears burned crimson. Oh, he was precious.

I tapped a fingernail against the plastic bag. "What did you get?"

"Uh it's from that famous spicy seafood place down the street I thought you might like it."

Jesus, this boy was going to be the death of me.

I dug into the food, keeping my eyes locked on him the entire time. I deliberately dragged my tongue across my lower lip, tasting the spice. Damn. So tender. I loved it.

Thank god this place used boneless filets. With the way I was practically undressing him with my eyes, Rowan looked panicked enough to choke on a stray bone.

I finished the last bite and let out a soft, satisfied sigh. I leaned back, looking up at him through my lashes. "Thanks for this."

"I'm gglad you liked it."

It had been way too long since Id played with a golden retriever this pure. I let out a soft, breathy laugh. "I wasn't talking about the food."

"Then what?"

Chapter 2

I curled my index finger under his chin, tilting his face up as I let my voice drop into a soft, liquid purr. "Take a wild guess."

A dark, furious blush dragged up his clean-shaven neck, swallowing his cheeks.

God, I hadn't even started playing dirty yet. He was so young. So fiercely out of his depth. A boy this pure was practically begging to be devoured whole.

I closed the distance, letting the heat radiating off his skin hit me. A fine sheen of sweat gathered on the bridge of his nosewhether from the spicy food or the sheer proximity, I didn't care. He was gorgeous down to his pores.

"I'll take good care of you," I said, snatching up my phone and sliding into his contacts. "What's your name, golden boy?"

"RRowan."

I tapped the tip of his nose, slipping my hand into his front pocket to fish out his phone and type my name in. Wifey. "That's the only name you need to know."

I leaned in and pressed a quick, claiming kiss to his lips. "Marking my territory."

I hadn't even unleashed a fraction of my playbook, and I already had him wrapped around my finger. Clubbing and shopping took a massive backseat. My newest obsession? Winding Rowan up just to watch him unravel.

On our first official date, he waited downstairs. I took a dangerously long shower, swapped outfits three times, and perfected my makeup. A full hour ticked by, and my phone didn't buzz once with an impatient text.

I stepped out of the elevator and instantly spotted him. Rowan wore a crisp white varsity jacket, looking criminally handsome and ridiculously wholesome. He stood intensely hunched over a claw machine in the lobby arcade, completely oblivious to the huddle of girls whispering and staring at him.

One brave soul adjusted her top, flushing heavily as she stepped up to shoot her shot.

Oh, hell no. That was my target. These college freshmen didn't stand a chance.

I closed the distance in three long strides, hooking my arms firmly around his neck and planting a loud, unapologetic kiss right on his cheek. The girls gaped at me, a messy mix of absolute shock and bitter jealousy.

I flashed them a razor-sharp smile. Good. I hated marking my territory twice.

Rowan jolted, a deep red flushing the back of his neck as he reached into the prize chute and pulled out a small, plush white bunny. "II just won this. For you."

I gave his nose a playful squeeze, flashing my sweetest smile as I invaded his personal space. "Winning a stuffed bunny is boring, Rowan. Catch me instead, and we can make babies."

A collective gasp echoed from the peanut gallery. They probably thought I was absolutely shameless. Let them. I owned the game; their opinions meant literally nothing to me.

Rowan snapped his gaze toward the floor, the tips of his ears burning bright red. "Wwhat do you want for dinner?"

I closed the gap, my lips brushing the sensitive shell of his ear as I exhaled a warm breath against his skin. "You're on the menu."

The sheer panic in his chest hitching against mine gave me an absolute rush. Satisfied with my handiwork, I finally stepped back.

We hit up a Korean BBQ spot, and I didn't lift a single finger the entire night. A strategic pout, and my sweet boy meticulously grilled the brisket, slicing it into perfect, bite-sized pieces and placing them directly onto my plate.

He even arranged the dipping sauces in a neat little semi-circle around my chopsticks. The green flag energy was blinding. With how sweet and attentive he was being, I fully intended to spoil him rotten.

We finished dinner just past nine. Perfect timing. I successfully lured him back to my apartment, fully planning to lock the door, strike while the iron was hot, and end the night tangled in my sheets.

Except, the second my hands slid under his shirt, he completely froze up. He caught my wrists, his pulse hammering wildly against my palms as he stammered that we were moving way too fast.

Fine. He was too damn cute to push. I could let him survive another day or two. It was clearly his first rodeo, and I could afford to be merciful.

Besides. The best meals require slow, agonizing anticipation.

Chapter 3

I dragged my tongue over my lower lip. My hands roamed greedily over his chest, shamelessly taking full advantage of those rock-hard muscles before I finally let him walk out the door.

Being this painfully horny was pure torture.

I grabbed my phone, shooting him a string of filthy, explicit texts. Fuck. Two messages in, and the ache only flared hotter.

I desperately needed a hookup to take the edge off.

I scrolled through my entire roster. Not a single guy sparked my interest. You never realize how useless your bench is until you actually need to play someone. They were all just pretty placeholders.

I drew a scorching hot bath, poured a heavy glass of wine, and vented to Harper on FaceTime for over two hours. Only then did I finally manage to drift off.

I opened my eyes the next morning, and a small white plush bunny stared back at me. Right. The prize Rowan won last night.

I dialed his number. It rang straight to voicemail. I hit redial. Still nothing.

Was he seriously trying to play hard to get? Annoyance spiked hot and heavy in my chest. I was pissed. Actually, really fucking pissed.

I fired off a mass text to my group chat, locking down plans to hit the clubs tonight. If the current roster was dry, I just needed to go fishing. The perks of being a player.

I shoved away the seventh guy trying to hit on me. The nauseating mix of cheap cologne and too many tequila shots finally broke me, so I bolted for the restroom and immediately threw up into the sink.

Mid-heave, a hand appeared in my peripheral vision, offering a paper towel.

I muttered a rough acknowledgment, wiping my mouth blindly. My vision swam as I looked up into the mirrorand locked eyes with a man.

Sharp jawline, effortlessly charming, with a pair of devastatingly magnetic eyes. Carter oozed pure player energy. Damn. Now this was the kind of premium catch my roster desperately needed.

Wait. A man?!

I scrambled away from the sink, stumbling toward the door and aggressively rubbing my eyes. Holy shit. I was in the mens room.

Carter strolled out right behind me.

I let out a dry, sultry laugh, leaning against the doorframe to strike what I hoped was a devastatingly seductive pose. My ankle instantly rolled in my stilettos. Hiss. I swallowed the sharp spike of pain, remembering I had an image to maintain.

He leaned casually against the tiled wall, a dangerously smooth smirk playing on his lips. "I certainly wouldn't mind driving a gorgeous woman home."

I hooked a manicured finger into the knot of his tie, reeling him in a fraction of an inch as I batted my lashes. "And I certainly wouldn't mind a handsome driver."

We walked out together, practically draped over each other. Carter was clearly loaded, and he walked me straight to a sleek McLaren.

I leaned back against the plush leather of the passenger seat, squeezing my eyes shut. We pulled up to my apartment complex in record time, and I popped the door open, squinting against the harsh glare of the streetlights.

Carter leaned against the hood of the sports car, a stray lock of hair falling perfectly across his forehead as his eyes gleamed with undeniable intent. "Not going to invite me up for a drink?"

I parted my lips to answerand a pair of strong arms suddenly locked around my waist from behind. Rowan.

"Wifey." He buried his face deep into the crook of my neck, his voice sounding painfully tight.

I tilted my head, catching a glimpse of his face in the glow of the streetlamp. Jesus. His eyes were rimmed red.

"I have a meet tomorrow. I was in the pool all day, and my phone fell in the water. I swear I didn't see your texts. Please don't be mad at me."

Not be mad? He ghosted my calls and left me on read! Did he think this was a game?

I fully intended to drag him upstairs and thoroughly "punish" him. Then my gaze flicked forward. Carter was still standing by his car, watching the entire exchange with a highly entertained smirk.

Time to cut my losses.

I flashed Carter a tight, polite smile, thanked him for the ride, and practically dragged Rowan into the building.

The moment my apartment door clicked shut, he pressed me against it. "Mmph wifey"

"Shut up." I crashed my lips against his, my tongue sliding hungrily into his mouth while my hands mapped every hard line of his body, gripping and pulling.

The heat radiating off his skin was scorching. His breaths shattered against my lips, ragged and heavy.

His chest heaved against mine. A low, desperate groan slipped past his lips as my fingers dug into his hips. "Ddon't don't touch."

I gripped his jaw, my thumb pressing hard into his skin. "Touch? I'm not just going to touch you. I'm going to ruin you."

His gaze darkened instantly, consumed by pure lust. A violent shiver ripped through his massive frame, yet his hands desperately clamped over my wrists, fighting his own body's physical betrayal. "Ngh we can't"

"Can't?" I ground my hips flush against his, letting him feel exactly how desperate I was. "I'm absolutely drenched for you, and you're telling me no?"

Chapter 4

The alcohol finally crashed through my system, completely wiping out my restraint. I yanked my top over my head and swung a leg over his hips, straddling him flush against the wall.

His entire body went completely rigid beneath me.

I immediately dropped my hands to the waistband of his sweatpants, fingers grappling with the thick drawstrings. Fuck. Who tied this knot? It was practically welded together.

A loud, hollow rumble completely shattered the heavy tension. Then, it rumbled again.

My hands froze on his waist as I snapped my head up. Rowan's face was a devastating mix of pure mortification and deep, burning crimson.

"II came straight here after practice. I haven't eaten."

A sharp laugh burst out of me.

I completely lost it, throwing my head back and cracking up right there on his lap. God, he was too fucking precious.

I was a menace, sure, but I wasn't a monster. Forcing the poor guy to perform on an empty stomach? I had standards. Besides, low blood sugar completely ruins the stamina.

I leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his burning cheek, and jerked my thumb toward the kitchen. "Raid the fridge. Feed yourself."

I slid off his lap and headed straight for the shower.

The tequila definitely caught up with me, and I ended up passing out against the wet shower tiles. Rowan must have found me, dried me off, and carried me to bed.

Did we cross the line? I threw off the duvet, checking the damage. Nothing. Not a single trace of a hookup.

A text from Rowan lit up my screen.

"Wifey, I left some oatmeal keeping warm on the stove. Eat when you wake up. Just leave the bowl in the sink. Ill wash it when I come over tonight. Your fridge was empty, so I hit the grocery store this morning. Hope I grabbed stuff you like. I've got my swim meet today. I might be slow to text back, but please don't be mad at me. If you are mad, just yell at me or hit me later. You can punish me however you want. Just please don't drink like that again. Its bad for you."

A strange, heavy heat bloomed in the center of my chest, and my throat felt dangerously tight. Fuck. He was so clingy. So damn annoying.

Why was he treating me like this? We were just a casual hookup. A game. Catch feelings, and you lose. Idiot.

I only did physical. Emotional attachment? I physically lacked the hardware for that.

I let out a jagged breath, shuffled into the kitchen, and scooped up a spoonful of the oatmeal. I took one bite and froze.

Was this boy actually trying to ruin my life? It tasted absolutely incredible. Was he trying to lock me down with domestic bliss? In his dreams. I didn't do wife-shit.

I texted back: "Wheres the meet?"

Then, I went to work.

A sheer, black lace matching set. A skin-tight, sparkling peach mini dress that barely covered my thighs. Strappy white stilettos. A delicate gold chain resting right at my collarbone, hoop earrings, and a flawless blowout. Soft, voluminous waves framing my face. A sultry, smoky eye meant to ruin lives. A high-gloss, impossibly plump peach lip. Flawless. I was a walking thirst trap.

I flashed a devastating smile at my reflection. Oh, Rowan. You're nineteen. It's time you learned how the real world plays.

Innocent golden boys always get corrupted eventually. Better me ripping him apart than some basic college freshman. Falling into my trap was the best thing that could ever happen to him.

His text pinged back: "State University Athletic Center. Poolside."

I shoved down the microscopic sliver of guilt in my chest, grabbed my keys, and headed out to the address he sent. But of course, I barely claimed a seat in the humid, chlorine-scented bleachers before a shadow fell over me, boldly asking for my number.

I swept my gaze up. Definitely another athlete. Broad shoulders, a brutally tapered waist, and endless legs. The build was undeniable.

His eyes tipped upward at the corners, sharp and predatory. Tucker didn't have Rowan's sweet, golden retriever energy. He practically dripped with reckless, wild red-flag energy.

A completely different, deeply entertaining flavor.

Chapter 5

I reached for my phone, but a familiar figure suddenly jogged toward the bleachers. "Wifey."

Tucker's predatory smirk completely vanished. "Rowan is she with you?"

"Yeah. She's mine."

A sharp laugh almost escaped my lips. Seeing Rowan flex his strict, untouchable Captain persona was deeply entertaining. Give it time, and half the female student body would be dropping their panties for him.

God, I just wanted to drag him down and kiss him senseless.

The rest of the team caught up.

"Damn, Cap! She's gorgeous. No wonder you're entirely obsessed with her." Wesley laughed, throwing a casual punch at Rowan's shoulder.

I let out a soft laugh. Such a sweet talker. I liked this kid's energy.

Rowan stepped closer, the tips of his ears burning a bright, punishing red. "Wifey."

He was trying so hard to maintain that strict, untouchable Captain persona, but the furious blush creeping up his neck completely ruined it. He was too damn cute.

I laced my fingers through his, immediately earning a chorus of loud, obnoxious groans from the team.

"Come on, Cap, that's just cruel!"

"Flexing on us single guys!"

"Set us up with her friends!"

"Yeah, just introduce us! We have low standardsshe just needs to be pretty."

A petite girl in a gray hoodie suddenly pushed her way to the front of the pack. "Hhi. I'm Paige, the team manager."

I tilted my head, studying her. She gave off a clean, harmless vibe. I extended my hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Maeve."

Later that evening, the team dragged him out for a massive celebratory dinner. They practically begged me to tag along, but I opted out, choosing to lounge on the hotel bed and scroll through my phone instead.

Barely thirty minutes passed before the door clicked open, and Rowan walked in.

"Back already?" I asked.

Away from his team, my golden boy instantly reverted to his soft, clingy self. His cheeks were flushed red, and his eyes looked heavy and glassy. "Missed my wifey."

I leaned in, catching a faint scent on his collar. "You've been drinking?"

"Just a little please don't be mad."

I let out a soft laugh. "I'm not mad."

"Then kiss me."

Oh, golden boy. You are absolutely playing with fire.

I grabbed the collar of his shirt, dragging him deep into the room. I shoved him hard against the mattress, straddling his hips, and crashed my mouth against his.

He didn't just take it this time. He kissed back. Hard. His hands ripped his own shirt over his head, tossing it blindly onto the floor.

I traced the sharp, heavy cut of his chest, my fingernails dragging down the rigid lines of his abs, stopping right at that devastating V-line disappearing beneath his waistband.

His eyes went completely dark with need.

In one violent, fluid motion, he flipped our positions, pressing my back deep into the mattress as his massive frame caged me in.

A ragged, heavy breath hitched in his chest. His voice dropped an entire octave, dark and dripping with pure friction. "Let a man handle this."

Fuck. The heat rolling off him short-circuited my brain.

"That guy who dropped you off last night. Who was he?"

Wait. Seriously? He wanted to play twenty questions now? I was practically melting into the sheets, completely desperate for him.

I couldn't escape the heavy, consuming weight of his stare. Time to lie through my teeth.

"He's just Carter, a guy from work," I lied. "We ran into each other at dinner. He saw I had too much to drink and offered a ride. We are strictly professional. Zero chemistry. I swear."

I even held up three fingers like a damn scout. Please don't let lightning strike me dead. I am completely full of shit.

Rowan locked his fingers tight around my wrists, pinning them to the sheets as his jaw clenched hard. "He wants you. I'm a guy. I know how he looks at you."

Chapter 6

What man? He was clearly just a devastatingly beautiful boy. All I wanted was for him to be a good boy and let me ruin him. After tonight, he would be a man.

"His pathetic crush is his problem. I only want you," I assured him.

"You mean that?"

Lust was scrambling my brain, so I lied through my teeth without missing a single beat. "Obviously. You're the only one I want."

"Then will you marry me?"

Marriage