Page 8 of The Pool Boy

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He smiles a crooked, roguish smile. “Excel for Dummies?”

Fuck.

“Yep!” I smile, guilt all over my face, not to mention my nipples hard as freaking diamonds under my top.

“I got it.” He slips right past me, and I stifle a gasp as the warm, muscled skin of his arm brushes mine. He easily plucks the book down, but he holds it in his hands for a second and looks down into my eyes.

“I came in to see if I could use your bathroom.”

I smile weakly and shiver. “Oh, yeah, yeah of course.”

“Thanks,” he growls.

I frown. “Wait, shit. The contractors still need to finish installing the toilet in the downstairs one. You know what, you can just use mine. It’s upstairs.”

“Thanks, Miss Hughes.”

I smile, shivering in heat. “You can just call me Layla, you know.”

“Layla.”

My name fucking pours off his tongue, like liquid silk. My body throbs, and my pulse thumps in my chest. He holds the book out to me, and when I take it, our hands brush. For a second, I realize it’s that hand—the one that was just touching my pussy, and I blush deeply. He pulls his hand back and looks at me intensely one last time before he turns.

“Upstairs?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumble. He walks out of the study, leaving me panting, gasping, tripping over myself, and horribly wanting him.


Tags: Madison Faye Erotic