The Pool Boy (Nashville Neighborhood, #2)

by Nikki Sloane

“Are you worried I won’t be able to handle you?” “No.” He was perfectly serious. “I’m worried I won’t be able to handle you.” His gaze dropped down to his dick clenched in his hand. “Look at me. I haven’t fucking touched you, and I’m already close.”

I took advantage of you. I’m sorry. That won’t happen again.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You sure? Because I’m okay with it happening again.”

I couldn’t stop the sensation creeping along my nerve endings or the thought from storming into my head. I wanted to be what he was looking for.

I was too in the moment to think about consequences. Too blinded by how good he could be. “Maybe you don’t believe me, but you don’t have to. I can believe in you enough for both of us.”

“Isn’t that what you came back here for?” He laced seduction into his words. “So I could give you a private performance?” My shaky voice wouldn’t even convince myself. “We can’t.” “Sure, we can.” And then he echoed back nearly the same phrase I’d given him. “We should.”

The way my heart fluttered over merely kissing a boy, it made me feel like I was eighteen and not forty-two.

“Fuck Tinder,” he uttered. “You don’t need it. I’m right here.”

He walked us backward until the edge of the desk hit me behind my legs, and then his hands clasped around my ribcage. His sure grip lifted and pushed me back, seating me on top of the desk with a loud thump. I gaped up at him in shock, but he wasn’t apologetic. If anything, he looked victorious. Lord, it was fucking hot. He moved to stand between my parted knees, and his mouth captured mine, driving me back against the cold mirror.

Was it really wrong, the two of us together? We were consenting adults who clearly enjoyed what they were doing. And I’d spent my whole life always doing the right thing, and what had it gotten me? A broken, sexless marriage, followed by an expensive and messy divorce. No more.

Fuck me, he was a pool boy and a personal trainer. I was like the ultimate cougar, snatching up the hottest boy toy. “I didn’t know you did that.”

The intense kiss faded until she ended it. If I had any doubt it hadn’t gotten to her, it disappeared when she touched her fingertips to her lips, like my kiss lingered there.

Longed for his voice, his laugh, his kiss. For his fingers to pluck the strings of his guitar and touch me in the places that lit up my body. For years, I hadn’t thought about Troy, and now time made up for it.

But I didn’t get much of a chance to look at anything because Troy spun me around and flattened my back against the cold mirror. His hands captured my face and tilted it up so he could deliver a deep, blistering kiss. Tingles burst across my skin as his mouth moved over mine. It was passionate and uninhibited. So powerful, I sagged against the glass, sinking under the weight of his kiss. This wasn’t the kiss of a man who desired me physically. It said he wanted . . . more. So much more.