The Pool Boy (Nashville Neighborhood, #2)

by Nikki Sloane

Fuck me, he was a pool boy and a personal trainer. I was like the ultimate cougar, snatching up the hottest boy toy.

“You’re writing again.” I grinned. “After two years.” She drew in a deep breath. “I had music in my head last night.” Fucking hell. Even though I’d saved and scraped every dollar I’d had in college to afford my guitar, I tossed it carelessly down on the couch now, freeing my hands so I could grab her waist. I made my voice sound as sexy as possible. “I wonder what’s changed?” The question was rhetorical, but I didn’t give her a chance to answer anyway. “It’s okay if you want to say my dick is magic.”

My phone rang and I didn’t bother saying hi. I needed to know right off the bat. “Is this call business,” I asked, “or pleasure?” There was a pause like my question had thrown her. “It’s pleasure.” Her voice was surprisingly sure. “Come over, and make sure to bring that magical dick with you.”

For all his ‘yes, ma’am’s, he didn’t talk like a gentleman in the bedroom, and my mind responded enthusiastically to it, as did my body.

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

“This ass,” I said appreciatively, “was made for trouble.”