The Pool Boy(33)

His smile is slow and sexy. “I think that can be arranged,” he says, pulling the shirt up over his head and tossing it in a corner. The morning light hits his body, highlighting every line. The longer I stare, the more I understand what people mean when they say breathtaking.

James grabs a bottle of lotion from the top of his dresser, reminding me of the last time he did that, heat flooding closer to my core. “I’m rethinking the ‘no sex’ now,” I say.

He laughs. “You’re still exhausted, and in a couple minutes you’re going to feel it again.” He climbs onto the bed with me, turning me over so my back is exposed.

“I’m sure I could stay awake for it,” I mumble into the pillow.

The lotion is cool on my skin, and the movement of James’s hands quickly warms it. His fingers move across my back, strong and slow. He starts at my shoulders, dragging down all the way to my ass and back up, working my skin with his palms. I hate to admit that he’s right, but my exhaustion comes back full force as my body starts relaxing under his hands. He starts a slow path down one side of me, pressing deeply into my muscles.

“You’re very good at this,” I say, though I’m not sure it came out as coherent.

“Thank you.”

I lose myself in the feel of his fingers, and slowly every part of me relaxes. With each stroke of his hand the world falls out from under me, and soon I drift off into sleep.



It’s James’s voice that brings me back to consciousness, but he’s not talking to me. His voice is hushed.

“That’s good,” he says. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

Through the fog I realize that he’s talking on the phone. It’s funny to me, I never imagined him talking on the phone because we have yet to do that with each other. It hasn’t exactly been necessary with him showing up at my house every day.

“Something came up, and it’s important. But tell him hello for me. I’ll be sure to drop by sometime next week. Will he still be at St. Mary’s?”

A silence.

“When does he come home then?”

I work on opening my eyes. I’m still draped across the bed, the windows now showing the light of late afternoon. I’m covered with a blanket now, but still naked. James’s voice comes from behind me.

“Good. Listen, there’s a little bit of a mess in the back corner of the Caldwell residence. I’m sorry about that—I left the wheelbarrow and some tools out there. I’ll text you a list of what I think I left.”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, it has a bit to do with that.” He listens for a moment. When he speaks again his voice softens. “No. I promise that it’s good. It’s a very good thing.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “All right. Keep me posted, and I’ll give you a heads up when I’m going to come by. Take care.”

There’s a soft tap of his finger against the screen as he hangs up and I hear him set his phone on the nightstand. I stretch, my muscles feeling amazing from the work he did on them. Rolling over to face him, I ask, “Who was that?”

James smiles at me, a brilliant smile that tells me he’s happy I’m awake. He drags me across the bed and pulls me against his body. “That was Mike,” he says.

“Ah, the infamous Mike,” I say. “I’m so happy Mike happened to need this week off.”

“Thank god for Mike,” he agrees, and kisses me. He smoothes an arm down my back, pressing me harder against him as he traces my lips with his tongue. I open my mouth for him, and he plunges into me, reminding me of all the other things he’s done and has yet to do with his tongue. God, I could live forever in his kisses.

I pull away for a breath. “Were you supposed to see him tonight?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m hoping you weren’t actually thinking about Mike during that kiss.”

“No,” I say, blushing, “but I don’t want to keep you from seeing your friends.”

James runs a hand along my side, and I suddenly have goosebumps. “It wasn’t anything official. I said I might stop by the hospital.”

It clicks in my brain, then. “You said his dad was having surgery.”

“It was successful. Mike’s been a good friend for a long time, so I know his family. I figured I’d stop by and say hi.” He laughs. “Mike says his dad’s grumpy as hell.”

“We can go,” I say.

“It’s all right. He’s staying in the hospital for a few more days. Right now I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

I make a face. “I’m not made of glass. I’m upset, but it was just an argument. I’ll survive.”