California Nights: Rich Boys of California Duet

Prologue

Nevada

I leaned against the garage, trying to ignore the giggles coming from the pool. It was hot and I was sweaty but I wasn’t about to jump in.

It wasn’t my pool. It was his.

Plus I had a feeling I might get a VD, even with all the chlorine.

‘He’ was Clay, aka Clayton, aka the richest and most popular guy in school. The bane of my existence. And the boy I had secretly crushed on since I was ten.

He was gorgeous and rich and good at nearly everything, especially sports. And sex, from what I heard. That was apparently enough for every bimbo in town to throw themselves at him. Not just high school girls either. Older women. I once saw a sales lady at a department store slip him her digits.

And he took it all in stride.

Today there were at least three, each one of them spilling out of their itty bitty bikini tops.

Gross.

I scowled, crossing my arms over my non existent chest. Not that I was a prude. It was just that no one had asked me out yet.

It just grossed me out what a man whore my used-to-be-hero had turned into. When we were kids, he’d teased me. But he’d paid attention to me then. Before he became a walking pair of gonads.

I heard a splash and glanced over, my jaw dropping slightly as he climbed out of the pool, water dripping over his insanely perfect body.

Damn him.

Our eyes met. His a sparkly blue that was brighter than the pool, or even the sky. Mine narrowed and glaring to cover up the other feelings he brought out in me.

Unwelcome feelings.

Not only was he a jerk, but he was the boss. Or at least his dad was the boss anyway. Mom and me, we were just the hired help.

Clay tossed his head back, sluicing water out of his dark hair. I heard the girls calling his name but he was still looking at me. I hissed as he blew me a kiss and winked.

Fucker!

I stormed back inside the garage and up the stairs to our apartment. The ancient rattling air conditioner was at least trying to do its job. I slumped into a comfy old chair upholstered in faded corduroy and picked up the book I’d been carrying around with me all day.

But it wasn’t long until the sounds of summer fun from outside drew me back to the window, where I frequently peeked out, spying on Clay and the golden people.

I watched as he paired off with one of the girls and led her into the poorhouse. The other two pouted. I scowled. If I was down there I could have told them not to worry.

There was usually enough of Clay to go around.

Chapter One

Clay

I stared at the girl kneeling in front of me. Her light blond head was bobbing up and down on my cock with more enthusiasm than skill. My lips curled a bit into my signature sneer. I couldn’t help it. Jessica was boring the fuck out of me.

“Not now, babe,” I said, stepping away.

“But Clay–”

I tucked my dick back into my pants.

“I said, not now. I have to pack.”

I turned around and didn’t turn back until I heard the door open and close behind me. I didn’t have to feel bad about it. Yeah, I still had a semi, but if that’s the best she could inspire, it wasn’t worth my time.

I judged a situation, a girl, on how hard my dick got.

The first few times with Jessica had been after, or during, parties at my Frat house, Sigma Kau Delta. So I’d been more than a little inebriated. Jess was hot, so I’d chalked it up to Whiskey Dick. But when she started popping over to my room unannounced, I’d started to get bored.

After all, she wasn’t the only chick I was banging on the regs. I had plenty of girls to chose from, and if all she gave me was a semi, then she wasn’t getting another ride on Mr. Fancy.

I smiled and tossed a stack of freshly laundered polo shirts into my duffle bag. Besides, there was lots to ‘inspire’ me back home. Girls I’d banged in High School. Girls I hadn’t banged in High School. Even that little cutie who lived on my father’s estate.

Especially the little cutie, if I was honest with myself. ‘Look, but don’t touch’, my dad had said a couple of years ago when it became apparent she was fucking beautiful. I had followed my dad’s rule so far, settling for teasing Nev mercilessly instead.

Seeing her pretty little face pinch up with disapproval was almost as satisfying as what I really wanted to do to her.

I chuckled and whipped out my phone, pulling up her number.

Nevada, also known as Mouse. A stripper name if I ever heard one. But she wasn’t like that. She was quiet, shy, sweet even. And her big hazel eyes had been following me around since she and her single mother had moved into the apartment above the garage years ago. I snickered. I’d always teased the girl that she was lucky she didn’t live in the regular servants quarters, behind the stables. Because it smelled like horse shit over there.