Pretty Boy (Perfect Boys #1)

by K.M. Neuhold

A little hard work never hurt nobody; that’s what my grams always said anyway. She said as long as I worked hard and prayed hard, my face wouldn’t matter so much to people. I been prayin’ and scrubbin’ for a good twenty-five years now, and it ain’t helped much.

Sweet boys have always been my weakness, but a sweet boy with claws when he needs them? Fuck, that’s the stuff of my fantasies.

I feel like I should bristle at the words good boy. It’s a condescending thing to say to a grown man. But the tender way his mouth forms them makes me want to be his good boy, even if I don’t know anything about him.

He can spend all afternoon pampering himself in the luxurious, oversized bathtub and then I’ll sit him on my lap and kiss every inch of his sweet skin.

I may be a virgin, but I ain’t never gone so long without coming since I learned the joys of my right hand more than ten years ago.

“So perfect for me,” he says, the praises crashing over me even harder than his hand. “Beautiful, sweet, filthy boy.”