Page 67 of Just the Pool Boy at Vampire Mansion

I wanted this. Wanted him. Now.

I wanted him more here than I had on the rooftop, more than anything else I’d craved in years.

The heat built quietly. A flicker, then a slow burn as his fingers spread against my spine. The faint, dangerous edge of a fang caught my lip.

I curled a hand into his shirt, keeping him locked close. He let me lean into it, let me forget his family were just a room away, let it tip toward something with more desire behind it. Hinting at where this could so easily go—me and him, tangled together, finally unleashed, somewhere private, somewhere close. Now, please. I wanted that. My body wanted it, and was just waking up to the possibility I could have it.

How far away was his room? Why did we have to wait? I pushed him back against the countertop, felt his lips tighten in a smile. His hands got urgent, fingers digging in. Yes, more, now. I couldn’t say the words, so my body said them for me. So Theo couldn’t misunderstand anything I was giving him.

And then his mouth lifted off mine. He stayed close, breath cool against my lips, his thumb stroking once along my jaw as though he was admiring the wreck he’d made of my composure. I was the one breathing hard. He looked annoyingly, infuriatingly steady, like he kissed someone’s soul out every day.

“You make damn sure you come back,” he murmured, warm and smug, satisfaction in his voice. “And we’ll get more of this.” He stepped away, that hip sway already in motion, leaving me standing there warm and wanting and burning up.

He knew exactly what he was doing, knew how to tease, and I was here for it, falling into deep waters all over again. I might drown in Theo Witherborne, but in that moment, I realized it would be a fine way to go.

CHAPTER 16

I met Bentley outside the Briars’ gate right after sundown, with the sky still a pastel pink on the horizon. I’d parked a little way down the winding palm-lined street, just in case I’d need to make a quick getaway. My car did not have enough power to dramatically smash through the Briars’ fancy gates, but I could vault a fence. If I needed to. It probably wouldn’t come to that. We were just going to talk, to find out what was really going on. Like civilized people.

Bentley wore his cream suit, playing the part of sophisticated neighbor, and carried a bounce in his step that hadn’t been there before, probably at the prospect of sanctioned murder.

It wasn’t going to come to that. No house burning, no murder. Just talking.

At least Bentley’s father had forbidden him from hurting me. I should technically have been safer with him beside me. But when I saw that gleam in his eye and the smile on his pale lips, I had to wonder if I’d brought a rabid dog along as backup.

Was Bentley a liability or an asset? I was about to find out.

I buzzed the gate intercom. “We’re here to see Mr. Briar. He’s expecting us.”

Earlier in the day, I’d called ahead and asked for a meeting about his pool. I hadn’t told him I was bringing a plus-one. After a few minutes of silence, we got buzzed in.

The gates clunked and heaved open. We stepped over the threshold and walked up the drive. The gates clanged behind us, locking us inside. The house was a short walk ahead, up the driveway and through the gardens.

“So, what are you, then?” Bentley asked. “What’s a gatekeeper?” His face looked paler in the dappled evening light, and his skin was almost porcelain smooth. The short, tousled white hair alongside that shade of skin meant his blue eyes held an icy sparkle.

“Your father’s fancy way of saying someone who looks after a pool?”

“Nope. Don’t think so. The other pool boy wasn’t a gatekeeper. Just you.” He looked at me sideways. “Are you human?”

“Very.”

“Yeah, I can smell weakness on you.”

Nice. I made a face and his fanged smile grew.

“I’m going to make a few things clear. I’m not like Theo,” he said. “He’s all ‘we gotta blend in, be nice to our food.’ I’m not like that. I lean into our lore. Humans are prey, we are predators. You are weak, we are strong. We have evolved to hunt you. It’s the natural order of things. And frankly, I am peak vampire.”

That was some ego he had there.

“What I’m saying is,” he continued. “You want old-school vampire, that’s me. Sneaking about, creeping into bedrooms, stalking maidens⁠—”

“A pervert, got it.”

“Right. What? No. Haven’t you read any dark romances? Human females adore being stalked and intimidated.”

I laughed. “Human females?”

His eyebrows pinched together. “What do you know about human females? You’re gay.”