HeatherAnne's Reviews > Backstroke

For an author who claims to be at her starting mark, beginning to dip her toes into the colder and darker waters of storytelling with The Boys of Frampton University, L.b. Martin seems to have caught the wave of comfort quickly and can hold her own with the pros without having to paddle very hard.
Who knew swimmers were so damn domineering and so well versed in ALL their abilities. 🥵
I’ve been told swimming takes the utmost concentration and superior perseverance to be great—I guess that applies to perfecting their bedroom skills as well—because let me tell you, the pool isn’t the only thing warm and wet right now.
Although I suppose when you’re forced to date a swimmer with lungs used to holding air in for extended periods of time, and a mouth focused purely on the finish line, wearing dry pan-tees are obsolete anytime of day, since you’ll by soaked before they exhale. 😮‍💨

Like when I read Backstroke… poof… somehow all my dry pan-tees are not so dry. Every chapter had me crossing my legs for relief. The same relief Fallon tries for- but is denied 😳 because Remy won’t let her touch HIS 🐈 without his permission. Whelp, there goes another dry pair just thinking about the way he “pun/ish/es” her when she does defy him, or try to at least.
Ooo, what I wouldn’t give for one of his puni/shmen/ts right about now.