My 3 Rockstar Bosses

Oh my god! He’s got to be kidding!

“I’m sorry?” comes my stammer.

That grin grows even wider, flashing even white teeth.

“Hey, ain’t nothing wrong with admiring a gorgeous view,” he drawls once more, pushing off from the wall, a tide of water swelling my way. “Nothin’ wrong with appreciating god-given beauty.”

I goggle, unable to say a word, staring as he swims away like a fish. But in a flash, the man’s back, now only inches away, taking up my field of vision.

“Feel my dick if you don’t believe me,” he rasps so that only I can hear. Matt’s breath is hot and exciting, warm waves emanating from that huge form. “I’m hard as a rock.”

I should be offended right? Guys shouldn’t talk to me that way, it’s over the top and lewd. But for some reason, I’m excited. Maybe it’s because I’ve never been with a man before, much less touched any male anatomy. Maybe it’s because this particular alpha is incredibly magnetic, those blue eyes boring into mine.

And as if in a dream, he reaches through the aquamarine water and grabs my hand, guiding it over. I don’t even look down, unable to move. But my fingers feel, and sure enough, there’s a large, stiff rod beneath his shorts, burning my hand. Oh my god, oh my god. I gasp aloud, breasts heaving.

The air’s coming out of my lungs in pants now, cheeks flushed despite the cool water. My pussy aches with arousal and I don’t know what to say, completely tongue-tied. I should get out of the pool. I should go hide out. I should

scream, at the very least.

But instead, I just look back at Matt, brown eyes wide, boobs bobbing in the liquid between us. And then my fingers move on their own. They slowly squeeze his dick, testing that hardness, before letting go. He grunts, eyes flaring, hips jerking involuntarily, growing even stiffer under my hand.

And a moment passes as we stare at one another, hotly aroused, the air sizzling. My fingers squeeze him again, eliciting another low growl.

And then the moment snaps. Like nothing’s wrong, I swim to the ladder and lever myself out of the pool. It’s not easy. I’m a big girl who’s now wildly turned on, and body parts fly this way and that.

But finally, I’m standing on the concrete, wrapping a towel around myself. Dripping wet, I walk over to the glass door head held high, hoping no one’s looking. Now would not be a good time.

But before going back in the house, my body turns of its own volition to look one more time.

And whaddya know, but Matt’s still in the pool, staring at me with a knowing smile on his face. Those blue eyes are hot, trailing over my curves, like they can see through the thick terrycloth.

Oh god, oh god! What did I just do? I behaved like a slut in front of him, squeezing his dick when he asked, showing him my nipples. I didn’t act outraged, I didn’t act like I was offended. Instead, I wanted it, thick and demanding.

And I want it even now.

Taking a deep breath, I break the eye contact, and step into the house. Fortunately, the A/C’s on full blast, cooling my heated skin. Hurriedly, I take the stairs to my room two at a time, eager for privacy.

Because did that really just happen? Out in front of everyone? Sure, we were partially shaded by the bushes next to the pool, but still, the water’s clear. Anyone could have seen.

But it did happen, it wasn’t a dream. In fact, it was the best thing that ever happened in my life.

Naked and wet, I grab the vibrator in my nightstand, fingers fumbling at the switch. And standing in front of the full-length once more, one hand spreads my pussy lips. Oh yeah, I’m horny. My pink walls pulse, clit big and standing up at salute.

And trembling somewhat, I guide the little toy home. Ah, that feels amazing. I imagine Matt Morgan’s hands on my creamy tits, his mouth on my erect nipples, his fingers in my dripping pussy. The build-up is instantaneous, and oh god, but I come right there. That’s right, standing up. I didn’t even need to be flat on my back, enjoying a long, drawn-out session. The alpha was so magnetic, so incredible, that immediately, ecstasy sweeps me like a tide, pulling me out until I’m jerking and clamping, mewling my pleasure.

Holy cow. Is this really me? Is this really happening? Because if Matt Morgan’s going to be living next door all summer … then I’ve got a lot of sweet dreams ahead.

CHAPTER TWO

Matt

Being the youngest of seven brothers means people often forget your name. I get called Trent-Sam-Ford-Matt-Goddammit a lot. Or sometimes I get called Pete, our dog’s name. It’s all good. With so many of us underfoot, you learn to let things roll off your back.

But none of my bros are home just yet. It’s me and the Morgan parents, together in the kitchen.

My mom has made her delicious and world-famous strawberry crepes this morning, along with bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, and biscuits. When there are seven dudes in a household, you learn to make way more food than the average person might consider ingestible.

“Theesh are sho tastee,” I mumble around the huge wad of goodness stuffed in my mouth.