The Pool Boy Page 3

  “Fuck me,” I say breathlessly. “Please. Fuck me.”

  His hands leave me for a moment and I hear him tear open the wrapper of a condom. He guides me forward, my hands landing on the sill of the small window that overlooks the patio. The window. Shit. “Not here,” I say.

  “Yes. Here,” he commands, sliding into me. I groan. His cock sliding into me is pure bliss. It’s been a long time since I had anyone inside me and I’m tight. He’s stretching me and the friction is divine. James slides out, and then all the way back in. God, yes. He starts a rhythm that’s steady and sweetly punishing as it ramps up, pleasure building deep inside me. He shoves a knee between my legs, spreading them farther apart. This new angle is deeper and James is thrusting faster and soon every stroke is causing my pussy to spasm in pleasure. I’m off balance and my breasts are pressed against the window and my breath is fogging the glass and—

  Shit, I can see my mother sitting on her balcony reading a book.

  One look in this direction and she’ll see me getting thoroughly fucked against this glass. The thought sends adrenaline roaring through my body and I’m so close and every breath out is a yes, yes, yes.

  James threads a hand into my hair, pulling my head back so I’m arched between the window and his body. I feel his teeth on my neck and then he’s sucking on my ear and I hear his voice growl, “I said I wanted to make you scream, and I will. But right now I’m going to make you come, and you can’t make any sound. If you scream they’ll all come running.”

  They’ll all come running, or my mother will look, or both. Oh god, I can’t think while he’s driving into me like this. His hand curls around my stomach, sliding down to my clit. I can’t see anything anymore. Everything is white light and firecracker sensations. He rubs circles on my clit, pressing and pinching and I bite my lip because I am on the edge of screaming. I shut my eyes tight and let myself feel it all and oh…

  Everything shatters outward as my body spasms on his cock. Pleasure sizzles through me and this is what people mean when they say fireworks. He hasn’t stopped fucking me, and it’s too much. It’s all too much. I let out a whimper and he slows, bringing me back to him with soft strokes. His fingers are still on my clit, pinching and flicking and stroking and keeping me on edge.

  My body is warm and pliant and aroused. I arch my back further, pushing my ass against him. “Take me,” I say. “Give me more.”

  James doesn’t hesitate, slamming in deep. My pussy clenches in response, and I hear him swear. He’s gripping my hips, pounding into me, and I love the rush of pleasure I get at having him inside me.

  “I’m close,” he says, and I can feel the desperation in his pace. His body tenses, and he moves. He pulls out of me, spinning me to face him. He rips off the condom and his hand is stroking his cock as he comes. It spills across my breasts and stomach, and I arch toward him. His face is dazed with pleasure and his muscles are taught as he continues to come. When he’s finished, he opens his eyes, taking me in.

  He opens his mouth, closes it. Instead of speaking, he reaches out to me. He draws his fingers up my body, collecting his semen in his fingers. He says, “Open your mouth.” And I do. His fingers glide across my tongue and I suck them clean. He tastes like salt and cream and man, and I swallow him down. That same hand curls around my neck and pulls me toward him and then he’s kissing me again, and I can still taste him on my tongue as his explores my mouth.

  “I was wrong,” he says. “This was a very good idea.”

  “Mmm.”

  His hand is on my ass and he pushes my hips against his. “I’m here for one week.”

  I smile, “And?”

  “And there are many, many things I would like to do to you.” His voice drops to a whisper as he adds, “Preferably some place where I can keep the promise of making you scream my name and beg for more.”

  “I didn’t think begging was part of the promise.”

  “I added it just now.” He lets me go, taking a towel from the shelf and handing it to me before taking one for himself. “If I stay much longer, it will seem strange that I’m still here.”

  I nod, still in a haze of pleasure and not really processing. He pulls on his clothes, and it feels like a sin to watch that body disappear. He pulls me in for a last kiss, and if he wanted to stay in this pool house forever and fuck I would say yes.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Vera.” The way he looks at me, I know he means more than see me.

  I smile. “I’ll see you.”

  He gives me a long slow look as he leaves the pool house, and then he’s gone.

  One thing is for sure—that vibrator is never going to cut it anymore.

  5

  Vera

  I stand in the pool house for a while, unable to move. I feel languid and relaxed and content. But after a while I also realize that I’m still naked, and covered in a good amount of James. I clean myself off and toss that towel in the laundry before hunting for my bathing suit. Even though I’m dressed again, I wrap another towel around myself. I don’t want to encounter anyone in the house in this bikini. I’ve pushed my luck as it is.

  I slip out the door of the pool house, and it’s just a mere few steps from that door to the back door of the house, and the proximity shocks me. I’ve never noticed just how close it actually was. I slide the patio door open, and close it behind me. Turning to go to my bedroom, I nearly jump out of my skin.

  My father is sitting at the table in the kitchen, papers spread across its surface. I thought he might be home, but he nearly always does his work in his office. The fact that he was that close to where I was just well and thoroughly fucked makes me ill. I manage not to stare at him—I’m still pissed, and I definitely don’t want him asking questions about my day. I slip through the kitchen to the stairs, and I don’t even think he noticed I was there.

  The reality of the situation hits me: James said it was a bad idea, and it is. If my mother had seen me, if my father had wondered why I’d come inside in a bathing suit but not seen me in the pool, if one of the house staff had come in to get the laundry, since we didn’t lock the door. Oh god. We were incredibly lucky, and I wanted him so much that I didn’t really think it through.

  I wanted to piss off my dad by hitting on James, but if he found me fucking one of the hired help, it would be a catastrophic event of biblical proportions. He’d be furious at me for ruining his perfect reputation, for doing something that could jeopardize his business. That’s rule number one. Never do anything that endangers the business. I’d never get a job in architecture. One word from him, and no one would touch my resume with a ten-foot pole. I don’t know if he’d be so angry that he’d kick me out or disown me, but the way my father’s been acting lately I wouldn’t count it out.

  By the time I reach my room I’m hyperventilating, my body humming with panic. I can’t sleep with James again. There’s too much at stake for me to risk it for sex. Amazing sex. Mind-blowing sex. Get it together and stop thinking about the sex, Vera. My body tenses, and the thought of not being with James again sends a pang of unhappiness through me.

  But it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. I get in the shower and I make sure that the water is scalding. The heat reminds me of James’s skin, and the water running down my body reminds me of the way he looked at me in the pool. Just the thought of that look and my body reacts, getting wet and ready for the pleasure it now associates with it.

  No. This has to stop—I can’t get carried away every time I think about him. If I let myself go there I’ll never be able to stay away. I find my rattiest comfy clothes, hoping that dressing in the least sexy thing I own will be at least a little bit of a mental barrier. I have plenty to do without this distracting me. I have to look for new places to apply. I have to work on my ELIH—Efficiency Low-Income Housing—project. I have to find a way to make sure I don’t have to go to work for my father.

  But as soon as I sit down at my desk, I feel it—the not unpleasant soreness of muscles I
haven’t used in a while, the lack of tension in my body in the aftermath of bliss. I remember the feel of his hands on me, his mouth on my breasts. I can only imagine what his mouth would feel like other places. I realize that my eyes are closed, and I’m both reliving and adding on what might be. Snap out of it, Vera.

  I bury myself in the internet. I hit every place I know looking for job openings, but when you’ve been looking in the same places for three months, you can pretty much tell when there’s nothing new. It still takes forever—hours. I even check resources that would take me out of the state. I even check ones that would take me out of the country.

  I do find one new prospect, and it looks promising, so I submit my resume. It’s a simple application in comparison to some of the other ones I’ve put in the last few weeks, but that’s fine with me. I shut my computer and move over to my drafting table.

  On the way I catch sight of my bikini where I abandoned it on the bed, and my mind is immediately back in the pool house where James is untying it. I feel hot in my clothes, like just the memory of his fingers inside me is enough to raise my body temperature. I grab the bikini and chuck it into the closet. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

  I focus on the ELIH project that I’ve started. I’m trying to balance cost-effective materials and quality of life. I want to find a way for the buildings to afford the same space and comforts as any other house. But I’m also trying to cut the building and labor cost so that people with smaller incomes can afford to actually own their houses. I’ve even made sure to include space in these plans for a small garden area.

  I hear James’s voice in my head, telling me he’d like to explore my garden further. God, how hot would it be if he took me in the garden? Surrounded by flowers and sun and sky. I can’t say I don’t want that.

  Damn it.

  This clearly isn’t working. I’m never going to get any work done on this if just looking at the plans makes me think about him. Anger at my body and brain rises up—I mean it was good, but was it really that good? It hasn’t been so long since I’ve had actual and good sex that I need to sit here and crave it. It was good. Fine, great. But I can move on. There are more important things than my sex life.

  I get into bed and flip off my light, forcing myself to relax, to sleep. I’m starting to drift off when the memory of him finishing on me floods my mind, hard and strong. I groan into my pillow. Fine. It was amazing. It was—no pun intended—fucking amazing. I can admit that, and I still have to say no to sleeping with him again.

  But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and he never has to know just how hot and bothered he makes me.

  I slide my hand inside my underwear and I’m already so wet that my fingers slip across my clit. I brush my other hand across my breasts, remembering how he pulled me against him using only my nipples. My hips jerk against my hand as I dip my fingers inside myself. I can see his face filled with lust, feel his body hovering over mine, and imagine that his fingers are inside of me instead of my own. The feeling of his cock plunging inside me comes back, vividly. My thumb circles my clit as I remember him stretching me out and filling me up over and over.

  I move my fingers faster and I’m grinding against my hand as the pleasure of this moment and my memories combine. There’s an orgasm rising inside me, and my first instinct is to slow down. I want to let it pour over me slowly, savoring every second. But I know with a deep certainty that if James were here he wouldn’t stop. James would not stop if he were fucking me, relentlessly, until I come. Once again I imagine it’s his hand, and he doesn’t give me a break. I can feel his lips at my ear, whispering the dirty things he’s going to do once I finish. My fingers are moving faster and deeper and I’m breathless, hovering on the edge of pleasure.

  I imagine his lips running along my skin—down my throat and along my breasts. My thumb slides across my clit, and I imagine it’s his. He tells me to come, demands it, and I do. My hips arch off the bed and the pleasure rolls from my pussy up my body and through my breasts. I tease myself a moment longer, trying to make the feeling last.

  Pulling my hand away from myself I stare at the ceiling. He’s here for an entire week. How am I supposed to make it through six more days, knowing what’s under those clothes? Knowing exactly how he can make me feel?

  Seeing him tomorrow is going to be torture.

  6

  James

  I drop onto my couch, utterly exhausted. I’m dirty and need a shower, but I don’t think I can move right now. I probably shouldn’t have stayed at the construction site as late as I did, but every bit I can do on the Mastersons’s house is a little bit less we’re behind next week. I know better than anyone that the faster a house like this is finished, the better. The Mastersons need this house, and they need it now.

  The fact that I had to delay construction at all doesn’t sit well in my gut, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. Mike was in a desperate situation, and I’m too familiar with desperate situations to not help. Besides, if I hadn’t delayed or taken the job I wouldn’t have met Vera.

  Vera Caldwell.

  Just thinking about her name makes my cock stir in my pants. I can’t remember a time when I’ve had such a visceral reaction to someone. And being inside her…god. The decision to fuck her was probably stupid as all hell, but I can’t say that I regret it. Everything about being with her was better than I had imagined or expected.

  I get up and head to the bathroom, stripping out of my clothes on the way. The shower is hot, and I force myself to wait until I’m under the stream before I let the memory flood me. I wrap my fingers around myself and squeeze, starting off with slow strokes as the images pour through my brain. Watching her lick my cock, seeing her dare to put her mouth on my balls, feeling her ass bounce against me as I fucked her into the window. My cock is rock hard in my hand and I let the memory play out as I increase my speed. In my mind’s eye I watch her eat hot cum off my fingers as I stroke myself to the finish. My balls tighten, drawing pleasure up from my toes and I can’t stop myself from groaning as I climax over my hand. I’m glad that I live alone.

  I lean against the wall of the shower, spent again, but it’s not enough. I want her again, and not just sexually. She’s intriguing, and I want to get to know her. All of her. I want to put my tongue inside her and fuck her senseless, and then ask her all the get-to-know-you questions. I want to spend some time with her in a place where I’m not wearing a uniform. No matter what I think about, I’m filled with a consuming desire to be near her.

  I shake my head to clear it, turning off the shower. Things like this don’t happen. No one can make a connection that fast—not one that’s real. But still, I remember that moment when I turned and saw her. She was ready to spit fire at me and I didn’t care because something reached inside me and pulled.

  I grab my phone and check the time. Ten-thirty. I wonder what she’s doing right now.

  More to the point, I wonder if she’s thinking about me. If she’s touched herself wishing I was there instead of her fingers. My cock likes that thought too much, and I feel myself hardening again. It’s like my body is insatiable when it comes to her. I pull on some clothes, trying to ignore the instinct to fall into my memories again.

  My phone chimes with an incoming text, and I try to ignore the pang of disappointment when it’s not from Vera. Which is ridiculous, since she doesn’t even have my number. No, the text is from Mike:

  Was the job okay today?

  Was it okay? Okay is a fucking understatement. I type out my response:

  It was great. I’m going to pummel you the next time I see you for not warning me how hot Vera was.

  I see the little bubbles pop up and down as he types:

  I did warn you.

  I laugh before replying:

  Not enough. How’s your dad holding up?

  Good. We go in the morning for the surgery. Should have a clearer picture of how things look tomorrow night.

  Mike’s father has heart pro
blems, and last week he went into cardiac arrest. I guess what the problem is can be fixed surgically, or at least they hope. That’s the reason I took the job at the Caldwells’s in the first place. I try not to take landscaping or caretaker jobs during my construction contracts, but this couldn’t be helped. Mike didn’t want to lose his spot working their property—they’re generous with their employees—so I agreed to fill in for him.

  Tell him hello for me, and keep me posted.

  Again the bouncing text bubbles.

  Will do. And thanks again for doing this.

  No problem.

  Another wave of tiredness washes over me, and I set my alarm before falling into bed. I need to sleep if I’m going to keep this schedule all week. Of course, the man in me is saying I need sleep so I can have as much energy as possible for Vera. I laugh as I turn out the light. She’s certainly a contradiction: a rich and spoiled heiress who works in her own garden and wants to do humanitarian work. She’s brazen as hell but I also think she might be hiding something. And I’m going to find out what that is.

  In my mind’s eye I see her spread out in front of me, back arching as I taste her neck. She tastes amazing. My mind spins outward, imagining the things I could do to her if she was in my bed. I would plunge myself deep inside her, not letting her come until she begged. I would take her ass for the first time, listening to her moan as she felt me claim something no one else had ever touched.

  My cock is in my hand again, and I’m squeezing it, stroking it. I imagine the silk tightness of being buried in her ass. I hear the sounds she’ll make as she asks me to fuck her harder, and harder, and I imagine the sensation of coming deep inside her. I can see it leaking out slowly. My body tightens, and I’m so close again. My hips are straining off the mattress. My imagination isn’t done with me yet as I see her use her mouth on me, sucking my cock clean. I groan as I fall into the white-hot brightness of my orgasm. Pleasure shoots through me from my balls to my brain, and I keep stroking myself as the grip of the orgasm fades. I savor it until it’s completely gone.