The Pool Boy - Nikki Sloane Page 0,48
the front of his shirt and jerked him forward, making him crash into me. I lifted onto my toes and pressed my mouth to his, desperate to have his lips against mine.
“Oh, I got it.” He chuckled. “Business after the pleasure.”
“I tried waiting,” I said in between kisses, “but I can’t.” I slid a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “I don’t think you understand how badly I want you.”
I hadn’t meant it as a challenge, but he must have taken it as one, because he had me stumbling backward until I was against the side of the staircase. The edge of a stair tread nudged gently into my back as Troy eased a hand down the front of my pants. He hadn’t bothered to undo them, and his forearm was big, but somehow he made it fit and worked his fingers down inside my panties.
I slumped against the staircase and my vision hazed as the pads of his fingers slid over me, exploring.
His smile was victorious. “You’re so wet already.”
“Yes,” I sighed. I hurried to release the button and unzip my pants, giving him more room. “I’ve been like this all day.”
He grunted his approval and claimed my mouth, his tongue slashing at mine. Trembles moved up my legs in waves. His wicked mouth had my hands balling his shirt into my fists and dragging them up.
But to take off his shirt as I was demanding meant he had to stop touching me, and the conflicting desires waged war in my head.
“All day?” His seductive tone and the brush of his fingers made the ache inside me worse. “Try waiting five years, Erika.”
My knees threatened to buckle, but it was like he knew. His free hand latched onto my waist and pinned me to the wall, keeping me upright. His fingers teased like he wanted to be cruel, but he kissed me with adoration.
It popped out before I could stop it. “Why me?”
His fingers slowed as his lips pulled away from me, leaving my skin damp with his kiss.
“I bet you can get any girl you want,” I whispered.
“But I want one woman in particular.”
He thought I was being playful when I was entirely genuine. “Why?”
Troy’s gaze slid down me in an evaluating look and he matched my serious demeanor. “Because you’re confident, sexy as hell, and know exactly what you want.”
It was shocking he saw me like that, especially when I struggled to believe any of that was true. “I’m faking a lot of it.”
His hand withdrew from my pants and he grasped my hip so both of his hands were on my waist, steadying me. His expression said he wasn’t buying it. “I watched you get up on a stage and sing like it was the easiest thing in the world. And after that, I heard you tell your husband exactly how you wanted him to fuck you. I’d never heard a girl talk like that, and—fuck—I never wanted to be someone else so badly in my life than I wanted to be him.” He tore his gaze away, like he didn’t want to look at me while he admitted it. “And you don’t even want to know how many times I fantasized about it.”
Fear fluttered in my heart. “Being my husband?”
“No.” A half of a laugh slipped out of him. “You telling me what to do, exactly how you wanted it.” He softened back into me and his lips brushed over the shell of my ear. “Every dirty, nasty thing you like.”
The idea of it sucked all the air from my body and heat flooded in its place.
I wanted this now too. His fantasy became mine in an instant. Excitement twisted inside my center like a screw being tightened, and my voice dipped low. “What dirty, nasty things do I like?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, all sorts of stuff.” He grinned wickedly. “You’ve got a filthy fucking mind.”
I swallowed thickly. “I do.”
“So,” his teeth grazed against the side of my neck, “tell me how you want it.”
This question was exhilarating and a little scary, because it was him handing all of the power between us to me. Given the keys to the kingdom, my mind raced with ideas. All I had to do was vocalize my desires, but which one to lead with?
“Well,” I sucked in a breath and tried to sound strong, “I don’t want it here, up against the stairs in my entryway.”
Amusement glinted in his eyes. “Where, then?”
I pushed