Diving Deep Edward Raines (thriller book recommendations txt) 📖

have to worry about distractions much, thanks to the unorthodox, or maybe more better put ‘indifferent’ culture of our swim program.

But then I went and did something majorly stupid. I found I had a talent for swimming; so much so, that I ended up best in the county. Sure, that’s not saying much in a county as sparsely populated as Jefferson. But it proved enough to land me a modest scholarship. And though I was reluctant to cash-in on the opportunity—far too afraid of what came with it—I knew I wanted to go to college. And more than anything, I wanted to get the hell out of Smithson. I wanted to see the city and I knew that sooner or later, my wandering eye was going to catch up with me. I didn’t want to be caught glancing at one of the farm boys’ bulges back home when it happened, either.

And so, that’s how I found myself at college—taking the dive, so to speak. I sat down on the wooden bench in front of my new locker, there in the locker room that smelled of musk and chlorine; a product of four years of work, grit, and abstinence.

And now, much to my misfortune, I was horny as fuck.

Every guy that came into the locker room after me was attractive—all of them. And the more of them that came in, the more I spotted guys who weren’t just cute, but downright sexy; sexier than anybody I’d ever seen.

I knew it was going to be a problem. And if I hadn’t known, the aching, stirring knots in the pit of my gut certainly would have given it away.

I knew it was going to be this way, though. I’d planned for it. In fact, I’d try to consider just about every possibility, from passing out in front of the Coach to having some sort of wardrobe malfunction and my jeans and briefs being yanked off in front of the entire time.

What I hadn’t considered, however, was the teensy-tiny pair of swim briefs that I found hanging in my locker, and hanging in every other swimmer’s opened lockers, as well. It was our uniform. Of course, I don’t know that there was even enough fabric to earn the term ‘uniform.’

I hadn’t even noticed mine until a scorching-hot college boy with auburn hair that I’d been following with my eyes, reached into his locker and grabbed his trunks. My mind immediately drifted to an image of him wearing the skimpy, stretchy little yellow thing. I bit my lip as hard as I could and hoped to stifle the growing tension in my jeans.

One by one, they all entered the locker room as I sat clutching the briefs in my hand and wondered how I was going to make it on the swim team, knowing that, not only would I have to wear such skimpy, tight and utterly revealing briefs, but I’d have to watch all these hot guys wearing the very same revealing briefs. One boner in these tight trunks and it was going to be painfully obvious which team I was “swimming” for.

There was a few times where some of the other swimmers would look at me with a glance or even a lingering eye. I would blush slightly and feel on display, but deep down, I sort of liked the attention. Of course, I knew the attention was likely a product of my being new to the team, and not because all these hot college boys wanted to bone me as much as I’d wanted them to do so.

“Hey,” one of them said, setting his bag down in the cubby beside mine. Instantly, my stomach turned to knots and my nerves kicked up a few gears.

“How’s it going?” I returned, and turned my eyes up at the boy.

He was tall and slender, as most everybody in that locker room had been. But he had wide shoulders and a towering physique that seemed obvious even in his t-shirt and athletic pants. He had neatly styled, short maple-brown hair that matched his eyes and seemed fitting for his slightly tanned complexion.

“Blake,” he said, with a nod.

“Oh, um, I’m Caleb,” I returned clumsily.

“New meat, right?” He then said, with a tight and professional tone. With that, he pulled out his phone and began to scroll through it.

“Um, sorry?” I said, confused.

“You’re one of the new Freshmen on the team this year, yeah?” He reiterated, without looking at me.

“Um, yeah, that’s right—how’d you know?” I asked. “Is it that painfully obvious?” I said, a touch insecure.

“We only have two new guys on the team this year,” he said, turning his eye up towards me. “And, well, lucky guess,” he said.

“Yo, Blake, what’s up?” One of the swimmers said. He was a tall, slender African-American who gave Blake a handshake and a warm, welcoming grin. Blake returned the gesture and turned to me. “Caleb, this is Roy; he’s the best on the team.” Blake’s lip rose with a cocky and playful smile.

“He’s fucking with you,” Roy said. “He’s the best on the team; no wonder why he’s captain,” he continued.

“New meat, huh?” Roy then said, turning his smoky-brown eyes toward me.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” I shrugged. “Good to meet you,” I said. “I’m Caleb,” I added, almost forgetting to offer my name.

“Well, Caleb, welcome to the team. You let me know if this one gives you any trouble; he’s been known to ride the freshman’s asses,” Roy grinned.

I barely managed an affirming nod; I was far too busy picturing the Greek god who’d just taken a seat on the bench next to me.

Roy then moseyed away. I watched him chat with and greet the other swimmers. He was just as handsome and charming as anybody else inside the locker room, and I couldn’t stop wondering whether he was hung or not by the way his athletic pants seemed to bulge in the front.

“Heard a lot about you,” Blake said.

“You have?” I said, turning my surprised eyes toward