The Pool Boy (Nashville Neighborhood 2) - Page 24

I stared up at his handsome face. He had long lashes feathered around his blue eyes, and as he blinked, I felt the sweep of his lust across my skin. It was powerful and addictive, promising to fulfill the craving I’d had for years.

“Troy,” I whispered, although I had no idea if my plea was for him to stop or to act on the longing he’d created inside me.

“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.”

Damn him and his fucking amazing voice. It was impossible to resist.

We hadn’t touched when we’d been in the pool house together, but everything was different this time. He was far more in control than I was.

It was why I didn’t move as he lifted a hand and cupped the back of my head, angling my face up so he could gaze down at me with hooded eyes. His warm breath wafted over my lips, threatening his kiss. I swallowed so hard he must have heard the click of my throat. It didn’t stop him from his goal, though.

The strands of my long auburn hair shifted beneath his palm as he gently urged me forward, pulling me into him until his mouth closed over mine. The moment our lips touched, I went weightless. It was like leaping off a stage into the waiting hands of the crowd, yet never landing. Falling forever.

His mouth was the same as his singing voice. Gentle one second and full of commanding power the next. I softened beneath him, and I wasn’t aware I’d moved until I found my fingers laced together behind his neck.

It didn’t matter that it’d been a long time since I’d been kissed, because I’d never been kissed like this. Troy’s lips moved against mine, urging me to mirror his angle and match his pressure. My pulse throbbed in my neck, banging like a furious drum as we tasted each other.

If he had a flavor, it was just like his music. Sinfully rich and hot.

My head spun, and I was grateful for the way he held me as he deepened the kiss. His tongue pressed at the seam of my lips, and although I shouldn’t have, I opened my greedy mouth to let him in.

His tongue slid against mine, and I was hopelessly drowning in desire.

Fuck. It felt so good.

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

He had one hand in my hair while the other gently grasped my waist, and his lush tongue filled my mouth. It was eager possession, and everything I’d wanted for so long. I went giddy with excitement. My body reveled in hands that actually wanted to touch and explore.

His mouth drifted from mine, planting kisses across my cheekbone, as he moved toward my ear. It made me shiver and melt when he discovered the tender spot on my neck, and then his lust-choked words filled my ear.

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

To add to his sales pitch, he leaned in and pressed the hard length of his body against me, reminding me how male and ready he was. A sound of satisfaction escaped from my throat, and I pressed urgently against him.

My desire was so strong, it blurred the line between want and need.

But this could not happen. Tension twisted my insides, and when I solidified, Troy slowed.

“I don’t get involved with my clients,” I whispered, as his lips brushed across the curve of my neck.

He pulled back and stared at me with a hard, exacting look. The ends of the whiskers on his jaw glinted in the light, making them look a shade lighter than the rest of his brown hair. “I guess you can’t be my manager then.”

I blinked. “What?”

His kiss had been so distracting, I hadn’t realized he’d worked the hand on my hip up under my shirt, so it could rest on the waistband of my jeans. The pad of his thumb traced the edge where the denim stopped and gave way to the bare skin of my stomach, and the connection was like a drug. Each gentle stroke of his fingertips made me weaker.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

His half-grin was devious. “Don’t make me choose, Erika.”

I thrilled at hearing my name on his lips, but my brain wouldn’t be quiet. How was this even possible? “You’d give up an amazing opportunity—”

His mouth crushed against mine, silencing my words, and his searing kiss burned away all thought.

“I want this,” he murmured into my mouth. “You told me to go for it.”

Tags: Nikki Sloane Nashville Neighborhood Erotic
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