The Pool Boy (Nashville Neighborhood 2)

I stood completely motionless, watching as his shorts were undone enough for him to slide a hand inside. His eyes hooded and he gave a low, pleasurable sigh. It was hypnotic how he deliberately moved up and down, teasing both me and himself.

When we locked eyes, he understood what I wanted, but also how much leverage he had over me.

“I’ll show you mine,” he said, both joking and entirely serious, “if you show me yours.”

FIVE

Erika

A thrill burst in my bloodstream. This was naughty and sinful, and so wrong; how could I refuse? The lack of sex had voided out my ability to make good decisions, and if seeing me topless had this effect on Troy, I was more than willing to do it again.

“Okay,” I said, and deposited my phone on the shelf nearby.

He quirked a sexy eyebrow in pleased surprise . . . and then urged his shorts over his hips. They descended his legs, revealing his fist wrapped around himself, and my breath cut off.

He.

Was.

Impressive.

I stared at him unabashedly while he stepped out of his shorts. I was in awe, watching as he stroked his hand down the length of his hard cock. Every muscle in me had tensed to prevent me from leaping forward and touching him. The desire to do so was partly because my lust had made me crazy, and partly to see if he was real and not a figment of my imagination.

God, he was gorgeous, all glistening with sweat as he oh-so-slowly fucked his hand and studied me.

I fisted the sides of my dress and lifted. Our gaze was only broken for a moment when I pulled the garment off and let it fall from my hands.

The electricity flowed as a current between us, and it hummed deafeningly in my ears. It had been erotic watching the rhythmic glide of his fist over himself, but it was incendiary to see the desire rolling through his expression as he stared at me. Troy’s eyes were liquid heat, and his chest rose and fell with his labored breath.

There was a rough, raw edge to his voice. “Your tits are fucking amazing.”

It seemed to have come out of his mouth before he’d thought it through, and it must have set off warnings he’d crossed a line because his face abruptly went blank. Was he worried he’d offended me? Because all his compliment did was make me burn hotter.

“Aren’t they?” I said.

My lust pressed down, molding me into a new person . . . one who wasn’t shy or worried about her partner’s reaction. I cupped the undersides of my full breasts and pushed them together, displaying them to him. Almost as an offer.

Troy’s sound of satisfaction was like I’d punched it from his center. His free hand moved, rising for a moment, like he wanted to reach out and touch me, but then thought better of it. We weren’t close enough for it anyway, but the action caused my heart to flutter with excitement.

We couldn’t . . . could we? It’d make all of this too real, with real consequences.

His gaze stroked over my curves, just as his hand worked himself over, and each pass increased the intensity of the need pounding deep inside my body. It was hard to breathe, hard to stand still, as he twisted his grip and pleasured himself while his stare burned into me.

“What are you thinking about?” I whispered.

“Don’t ask me that.” It was part plea, part warning. Because whatever the answer was, it was very, very bad.

I was drunk, delirious, and out of control with lust. “Do you want to touch me?”

“Yes.” The word burst from his lips with no hesitation, but then he looked stricken. “No. I shouldn’t.”

A sobering thought hit me like cold water. “You have a girlfriend.”

“What?” He froze. “No, no.” He let out a tight, embarrassed sigh. “If I touch you, shit’s going to . . . escalate.”

Relief washed through and disarmed me. His phrasing was almost amusing. “Escalate?”

His pointed look was stern and provocative. “Yeah, Ms. Graham.” When he repeated the word, he drew it out, weighting each syllable. “Escalate.”

“It’s Erika.” It was too formal and impersonal for him to use my last name, given what we were doing. Plus, it was a bit too much like The Graduate, even if I had seduced him into doing this. “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.”

My excitement ratcheted up to a new level. “Are you going to come?” I was breathless. “Right now, in front of me?”

He shuddered through the powerful effect my words had on him, and his dick jerked under his grip. “Do you want me to?”