The Pool Boy - Page 35
Chapter Twelve
Layla
I thinkwe sleep for a little bit, but at some point, I wake up and realize I’m still in his arms. I pull him around me tighter, and I hear him chuckle behind me.
“Did you sleep too?” I whisper, turning to glance at him.
“A little, I think. I have no idea what time it is.”
“Same, and I don’t care.”
He chuckles and leans in to kiss me. “All I need to care about is right here,” he murmurs, kissing me softly. I melt into him, and I can feel his cock begin to thicken against my ass. I moan, pulling back to bite my lip.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, that would be you,” he growls. “It’s all your fault.”
“Yeah, not that you’re a twenty-one-year-old ball of raging testosterone?”
He grins. “Maybe, but I’m still blaming you. You don’t see me in bed with any other of my pool clients, do you?”
I scowl jealously. “Well what am I not seeing, mister?”
He laughs. “Believe me, between you and Mr. Carson, who’s seventy-five, by the way, you pull a win.”
I giggle. “Well, lucky me. Good thing I busted out that scandalous bikini to tempt you with, or else Mr. Carson might’ve bagged you.”
Mason roars with laughter. “Baby, are you trying to make sure I never get hard again?”
I blush and reach back to curl my hand around his very hard, very thick cock. “Doesn’t seem like I’m having any effect whatsoever, now does it?”
“Not even close,” he groans. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Oh? Pray tell?”
“It involves you, my shower, and my mouth on your pussy.”
I shiver with heat. “Yeah, um, yeah that sounds like I could be persuaded.”
He grins again and kisses me. “Well, let me just see if I can persuade—”
The door to his bedroom slams open, and I scream. I flail, yanking the sheets tighter around me as I whirl to see Vanessa Dunn glaring at me with murder in her eyes.
Vanessa Dunn, as in Mason’s mother.
“You. Little. Fucking. WHORE!” She screeches. Suddenly, Carl, her husband, appears over her shoulder. His eyes narrow on Mason and me, clearly naked under the bed sheets, and he snarls.
“What the fuck is this?!”
Mason growls and sits up. He slides me behind him, still under the sheets, and he scowls at his parents.
“Can I help you?” he snarls.
“Yes!” Vanessa screams. “You can help me understand how it is that you’re in bed with the trashy slut from next door?” Her eyes swivel to me, and she hisses. “What are you, twice his fucking ag—”
“ENOUGH!” Mason’s voice booms through the room, silencing them. He reaches down and grabs a pair of boxers and slips them on under the sheets before he stands. “Get out, both of you.”
“We’re not going goddamn anywhere, Mason!” his father roars back. He jabs a finger at me. “I want her out of my goddamn house!”
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