The Frat Boy (Nashville Neighborhood #4) Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: College, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Nashville Neighborhood Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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When I went into the gym on Saturday afternoon, he was there, and without prompting, he showed me a few upper body exercises. I’d done my best to listen and absorb what he was saying, but he wasn’t wearing a shirt again, and it was hotter than a sauna in the gym.

I was so fucking curious about him.

Why hadn’t he told his father he wasn’t a Sig anymore? What was causing the tension between them? And most importantly, how had Colin’s first scene without me gone?

Monday night we’d pitched our ideas at the meeting and had been paired with new partners. Nina was to be the horny stepmother who’d seduce her eager stepson while her husband was out of town, and Jaquan would be my private masseuse whose wandering hands became irresistible.

I didn’t feel jealousy over Colin or envy Nina. But I’d had a touch of disappointment that I wouldn’t get to watch them together—I’d have to wait like everyone else for the video to be posted the following week.

It must have gone okay, though, because everyone acted the same afterward. One night when I’d been eating dinner alongside Abbie, she’d mentioned you could tell when someone had struggled through a scene or if it had gone off the rails. You could feel the tension in the air, she’d said, and it was a major buzzkill.

I watched Colin as he lay on the bench and did skull crushers with a set of dumbbells that were probably too heavy for me to even pick up. Did he wonder how my scene with Jaquan had gone?

After we’d spent an hour depersonalizing my bedroom, Nina had dressed the set to look as generic as possible, and then we’d filmed in there.

Jaquan had worn a white polo shirt and khaki pants, and he’d carried a collapsible massage table with him as I ushered him into the room. I’d asked politely if we could do the massage in here, and as he’d set up the table, I’d lit some candles. My wardrobe had been a string bikini beneath a robe, and I’d shed it as soon as he’d said he was ready.

After I’d gotten on the table, he'd draped towels over me, then filled his hands with massage oil while I undid the strings of my bikini.

I would have been a fool to not enjoy the scene, and I had. He was gorgeous and sexy, and—good God—his hands were divine. Like Scott, Jaquan was an experienced partner who made me feel safe and comfortable, and was skilled at leading me through my part.

But . . .

Maybe that was what I liked so much about performing with Colin. We were both new, and so he felt more like an equal than anyone else in the house. It was as if we were bonded by coming up at the same time.

My heart still raced when the towel slipped off, exposing my naked breasts to Jaquan, but it didn’t race quite as fast as it had with Colin. I still got a thrill when Jaquan touched me, but it was slightly muted. When his hand delved between my thighs, it brought me pleasure—but not to orgasm.

Not until I closed my eyes and pretended it was Colin’s hand.

That was my first inkling that I had a problem.

Despite that, I still really liked what I’d done with Jaquan. It was hot and his massage at the beginning was sensual. We’d discussed everything beforehand, and I’d told him I was fine with kissing on the lips—but when it happened, it was the same as it’d been with Scott and Abbie.

Fun.

Safe.

But definitely not amazing.

After he’d made me come, he’d turned me over onto my stomach, stripped off his clothes, and urged me to go down on him. Like everyone else in this house, he was toned and fit and well-endowed, and I loved listening to his quiet sounds of satisfaction as I traced the tip of my tongue along the length of his cock.

When he couldn’t endure the blowjob any longer, Jaquan climbed up on the table and straddled my legs, taking me from behind. He felt so good, and when I clamped my hands around the edge of the padded table, he glided his fingertips sensually over my oil-glossed back.

My moans were real, but I also played them up for the cameras.

The experience was exciting and new, but I wondered if that was all it was. Once the newness wore off, would the excitement fade and this sex work would truly feel like work? I hoped not. Everyone else seemed to enjoy what they did.

After he came and the scene pulled to a close, Jaquan gave me a final, sweet kiss, and I couldn’t help but grin. He was so fucking handsome and nice that for a long moment the Colin problem faded into the background.



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