Boy Toy (The Boyfriend Series Book 1) Read online




  Boy Toy

  The Boyfriend Series: Book One

  S. E. Lund

  S. E. Lund

  Copyright © 2021 by S. E. Lund

  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.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Also by S. E. Lund

  Chapter One

  Brooke

  “Wait until you see him.”

  I shaded my eyes and watched the waves, hoping for a sighting of the famed hot surfer dude my best friend and partner in crime, Kelli, met the previous week and was hoping to make into her main squeeze.

  “How did you manage to snag him?”

  She turned onto her stomach and looked at me, a smile on her face.

  “When I met him the first time, I was here checking out the beach house. We almost ran into each other while I was swimming. I suspect he did it on purpose so he could introduce himself.”

  “Ha!” I laughed. “More like you got in his way, so he’d have to introduce himself.”

  “Guilty as charged,” she said with a grin.

  Kelli met her newest fling when she and I were making plans to live together once I arrived in California. His name was Ross Anderson, and he sounded so California that he was almost cliché.

  “Wait till you meet him,” Kelli had said enthusiastically. “He’s just about the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Tall. Killer smile. You should see the way his wetsuit fits.” She smacked her lips appreciatively. “I’ll bet he was the quarterback on his high school team and personally deflowered every cheerleader.”

  I laughed. Kelli had a very vivid and very erotic imagination. “Sounds like just your type,” I said sardonically.

  “You’ll die at how much he looks like Chris.”

  Chris was her ex. Apparently, Ross was his younger version. Kelli had a penchant for blond, blue-eyed gods who had killer smiles. A surfer dude was a new one for her, however. Moving to sunny California had changed her preferences from Wall Street Suits to Beach Boys at Berkeley.

  “He’s a bit young for you, isn’t he?” I asked. Chris had been almost a decade older than her.

  “He’s perfect. He said he’d be here today, so I hope I can run into him again.”

  She rolled over onto her back, planning to tan her other side.

  “You’re going to be a crispy critter if you don’t put on some sunscreen.” I handed the bottle to her. “You’ll regret it later. Remember Mexico…”

  Kelli rolled her eyes. “I thought I left my mom back in Manhattan.” She took the bottle and applied some on her most exposed parts. “You always burn when you go to the beach. It’s the rule.”

  “Not me.” I pulled the hat lower over my eyes. “I’m protecting myself after the last time. One day, you’ll regret all the sun you’re getting. It ages your skin, and opens you up to skin cancer.”

  “Shhh,” she said and held out her hand. “None of that talk here. This is the long weekend and you and I are going to have fun, remember?”

  I smiled guiltily. “All right, all right,” I said and laughed. “I’ll lighten up. But you really should…”

  As a fair-skinned blonde, I knew better than to not cover up when on any beach, especially after I was sick during our vacation the previous year, when we took a cruise from New York to Cozumel and I burnt to a crisp.

  “You really should just run into the water at least once.” She finished slathering sunscreen on and handed the bottle to me. “There are a lot of fish in the sea out there, you know. You might catch one if you tried.”

  “Yeah, and the ones interested in me are all blobfish.”

  She snorted at that, remembering the blobfish I showed her on Facebook earlier in the week. It reminded me of my Uncle Bob, whose blubbery face and lips so resembled the blobfish, I was going to start calling him Uncle Blob.

  Not to his face, of course. He was honestly a nice guy.

  “Well, unlike you, I intend to live life to its fullest. If I get a few wrinkles along the way, it’s just proof that I had fun when I was young.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, we both listened to the waves and watched the surfers. Unlike Kelli, I hunkered down under a beach umbrella, in the shade from head to toe so I didn’t burn to a crisp. She had that glorious Mediterranean skin which tanned to perfection, while I was nearly a ghost, my skin smeared with SPF 80 and covered up by a sundress, a large floppy hat and sunglasses. Kelli looked like what she was – a fun girl, the life of the party, while I looked like I was – the one who sat on the sidelines and tried not to burn.

  That afternoon, I really felt my age and my more conservative nature while I watched Kelli living it up in the sun and surf.

  Thirty was not the end of the world, although my mother had thought it was. She feared that my womanly organs would dry up if I didn’t find a man soon and start pushing out babies. I tried to tell her that women today could wait until their forties if they wanted, and that I would use artificial insemination if I reached the ripe old age of forty without a man I could convince to impregnate me. She just shook her head and gave me that look – you may know the one. The withering look a mother gave her children when she didn’t approve.

  Now, Kelli was completely different. She was a few years younger than me at twenty-seven and was still in the game, at least according to my Aunt Nancy, my father’s sister. Kelli was young enough to still be considered not-an-old-maid. Despite snagging a great job in the Tech industry, she wanted to get married and settled down ASAP. We were old college dorm roommates from Columbia, and after I was transferred from New York to San Francisco to head up the Emergency Planning Unit, she left her job and came out to take a new one so we could both enjoy the California sun.

  I’d been promoted to an executive position in the Western Division by the company’s CEO and founder, John McNaughton, my boss and mentor. Kelli and I were going to be roomies, once I took possession of a three-bedroom apartment I found that wasn’t a dump and that we could afford. Kelli would do pretty well as an advertising manager for a small tech startup, and I had a really good income in my position, but still. I thought New York City was bad – San Francisco was much worse.

  Everything was expensive except the sun and surf, so I expected we’d be spending as much time as we could on the beach. Which meant one thing: I had to start tanning, but slowly. The last time she and I went on a vacation togethe
r, I burnt to a crisp and almost had to fly home with sunstroke. I didn’t intend to do that again. I adjusted my coverup to ensure it actually covered everything, then I dug my toes into the sand because they were starting to sting. I wasn’t used to the constant sun in California, coming as I did from the rainy East Coast. Neither was Kelli, but she was as different from me as day was to night.

  That’s why we got along so well. She was yin to my yang. She was bold, and I was shy. She was reckless and I was careful. She was tall and athletic, while I was short and fine-boned.

  We almost canceled each other out.

  After only a moment, she rolled back onto her stomach and looked me in the eye, her expression playful. “I’m going out there. Hopefully, he’ll see me and come over. Maybe, we can do something tonight.”

  She jumped up and ran to the surf, squealing as the water struck her.

  I watched with envy, wishing my skin wasn’t so damn pale. I should have spent time in the tanning salon to prepare my skin for the California sun, but I was warned by my doctor that it was dangerous either way.

  Instead, I watched Kelli splashing around. Sure enough, I saw one of the surfer dudes go over to her, on his board. He was giving her the eye, probably noting her skimpy hot pink bikini and how it showed off her curves. They talked and she seemed really pleased when she left the water and ran over to our beach umbrella.

  She grabbed her towel and started to dry off. “Did you see him? Ross is here.”

  “I saw him,” I said and scanned the waves, which were breaking a few dozen feet off the shore. “Have you picked your china pattern? Is the registry working so I can buy you a few place settings?”

  She laughed at that. “You jest, but I wouldn’t be unhappy if it ended up that way. He’s going to be an architect, and they have a pretty good life.”

  She had applied for a job in San Francisco months before my scheduled move and got it, so she'd been living in the city for a while in a short-term rental, waiting for me to arrive. Now, we were on the beach outside my boss’s beach house, meeting her latest boyfriend.

  Kelli lay down beside me. “Ross invited us to a party later tonight. Just down the beach. Can you believe it? His friend owns a house overlooking the coast here. Not only is he the second hunkiest guy around, but he must also be wealthy.”

  “Probably Daddy’s money,” I said with derision. “One of those trust fund kids. So did you say yes?”

  “Are you crazy? Of course, I did,” she said. “We got an invite and that’s all that matters. Ross could be a homeless guy living on the street and I’d still do him.”

  I laughed out loud at that. “You would.”

  “I would, and you would too, if you had any sense. Wait until you see his friend. I’m serious. He’s breathtaking. You’ll like him. He’s not as hot as Ross, but he’s still eligible. Just your type — you know, dark, brooding, Heathcliff-type, with this long, dark hair. A bit standoffish. Didn’t smile when we were introduced, like he was this very serious guy. You two are, like, destined to meet each other.”

  I frowned, not wanting her to start playing matchmaker for me.

  “I may just go back to the beach house and watch Netflix,” I said, suddenly feeling like I didn’t want to watch Kelli seduce Ross and take him home for the night, and me get stuck with another ‘very serious guy’ who probably hated getting set up without his permission. An evening in front of the flatscreen watching a spy movie would be less disappointing.

  The beach house was fantastic. I had it for the next two weeks courtesy of my boss and then would be moving into our own place closer to the city.

  “You will not go back to the house and watch Netflix,” she said and rolled back onto her stomach. “You promised me you’d be more outgoing if you came to San Francisco and we were going to live together. It’s been almost a year.”

  I grimaced, thinking of my last date. “I know, but I don’t have time for romance at the moment.”

  “I’m not talking about romance, girl…” She wagged her eyebrows. “You promised you’d give it a real try. Get out there. Get some. Come on — the guys all see sex that way. Why not us, too?”

  I sighed. “I’m just starting a new job, Kelli. I have to focus.”

  “And we’re both going to be working our asses off in the next few months, right? Neither of us will have time for partying until the holidays. Remember our agreement. It doesn’t take effect until the long weekend is over, so we have the whole weekend to party.”

  “I remember,” I said. “How could I forget?

  We had pledged to be each other’s conscience, reminding the other about our agreement whenever one of us looked like we were going to slip into our old bad ways from college. Or should I say, whenever Kelli looked like she was going to slip into her old ways, and drag me along with her.

  I’d always been the good girl.

  I’d spent the last year proving myself to my boss, working like mad to get promoted. Getting a job setting up a new office in San Francisco was a dream come true to me. I’d spent the last year like a nun, as Kelli said. It was worth it to get transferred to sunny California.

  I wanted to start a new life somewhere far from New York.

  “Don’t fall in love with this Ross guy or you’ll be going surfing every weekend instead being promoted.”

  “Too late.” She rolled onto her back once more, a wistful smile on her face. “Imagine surfing with Ross every weekend instead of working overtime and having no social life…”

  I kicked her lightly with my foot, and then recovered it with sand. “You’re already deciding to break the agreement. I know you.”

  She smiled and slipped sunglasses on. “You know me too well. Take off that ridiculous coverup and come back in with me, get wet. It’s not too late.”

  I shaded my eyes and glanced out at the ocean. A half-dozen surfers paddled out to meet the waves, then rode them in while the sun burned down on the California coast.

  “You go ahead.” I held out my arms. “I just put on more sunscreen.”

  She pouted. “Party pooper.”

  She jumped up and ran back into the waves, screaming with delight as the water frothed around her.

  I checked my cell and saw that my father had sent me a text, which was a real achievement for him, being a technological luddite. Before I left Manhattan, I made it a point to teach him how to use messenger so we could communicate quickly. He had a few serious health issues, and I wanted to know immediately if anything went downhill, so I could fly back.

  I’d even talked to my boss and mentor, John McNaughton, about being able to do so at the drop of a hat. He agreed, and wrote it into my contract in the new position.

  DAD: Hey kiddo. Missing you.

  I also taught him how to Facetime and that was what I decided to do, so I could show him the beauty of the coast.

  BROOKE: Let’s Facetime. I’ll call.

  He answered my Facetime request, and his face popped up on the screen – grey haired, salt-and-pepper goatee and warm amber eyes. I felt a surge of affection for him, especially because it was the first time I’d been away from home for a year. It was also the first time he’d been without anyone since my mother died, two years earlier.

  I already missed him and knew how lonely he’d be while I was in California.

  “Hey, there, my globe-trotting daughter,” he said, amusement in his voice. “How’s things?”

  I smiled and turned my phone around to show him the beach.

  “How does it look to you? I told you that you should have come out for a week while I got settled in.”

  “Maybe at Christmas,” he said when I turned my phone back around and could see his face once more. “I’ll be glad to leave the snow and cold for a week or two, even if it is Cali-for-ni-yay.”

  He didn’t like California. He didn’t like me moving here, even if it was only for six months while I implemented the new emergency planning department.

  “It’s nice in San Fr
ancisco, Dad. Beautiful. Especially the coast. You should see Mr. McNaughton's beach house. Amazing.”

  “Your mother and I spent some time in Sacramento and farther north before she died. We went to the Redwood Forest. It was on her bucket list.”

  “She loved it,” I said, remembering her rave about the trip. It was her last before she was diagnosed and died. “Maybe Kelli and I will take a drive up there some weekend. Not that I expect we’ll have a lot of time off, but we might take an overnight trip.”

  “You should, but don’t you dare get too used to it. I can’t stand the thought of you being there, considering why you’re there.”

  He was as nervous as I was about the threat of an earthquake, especially in San Francisco.

  “I won’t,” I said and shook my head. “You know me. I said I’d never live on the West Coast. Don’t worry about me. I have a duffle bag under my bed with everything I’ll need in case of the big one, so I’m all set.”

  “If you’re by the ocean, that better include a way to get away from a tsunami.”

  “There’s a car here at all times,” I said. “Don’t worry. I saw a couple of bikes in a shed by the beach house, so at worst, we could hightail it out on them.”

  “I do worry about you, but I know this is a big deal for you and I’m happy you got the promotion. You worked so hard for it. Just promise to come home for Thanksgiving.”

  “I will. How are you feeling?”

  “Pretty good,” he said and touched the oxygen canula that kept him healthy and out of the hospital. “Taking it easy. Did a bit of gardening. Had a few of the boys over for Sunday dinner.”