The Pool Boy (Nashville Neighborhood, #2)

by Nikki Sloane

“Tell me you’re close,” he demanded. I was, but I slowed the roll of my body and peeled my lips back in a victorious smile. “Maybe I want to enjoy you like this for a little while longer. You can keep up, can’t you, Troy?” Dark heat flashed in his eyes. “Yeah, I fucking can.” “It’s okay if you can’t,” I whispered, stunned by my mocking tone. “I have a drawer of toys that I can always—” His fingers bit into my waist, commanding me to move. “Maybe you don’t need them anymore. You want to get off? I’m right here.”

“You like the sound of that? Me being your personal sex toy?” “Fuck,” I cried. My mind went white-hot at the idea. “Yeah, I thought so.” He rubbed circles on my swollen clit while he continued to pound at me from beneath. “You can use me however you want to.” My heart sprinted frantically, flying toward explosion. Even though I wasn’t scared, something like panic filled my voice. “You’re going to make me come.” “You’re goddamn right,” he growled.

“I’m one of the trainers at Motivation Gym.” Fuck me, he was a pool boy and a personal trainer. I was like the ultimate cougar, snatching up the hottest boy toy.

“Don’t come yet,” I said. “Well, don’t be so fucking hot,” he shot back.

While I was pumping gas, some woman catcalled me out of her car window as she drove by. “Looking good, pool boy!”

“What can I say? She needed an emergency service.” He nodded, wanting to play along. “Took all night too, because your Jeep’s been there all morning.” “Well, I had to make sure I did it right.” Preston snorted. “And how long has this emergency been going on, bro?” We were only a few feet apart now, so I lowered my voice. “A few weeks.”

“Your ringtone’s ‘The Final Countdown?’” He didn’t join me in smiling. Instead, he looked worried. “It is when my mom’s calling.”