Wet Dreamz

 By

     Bobbi Romans

Knowing your spouse is cheating should leave you devastated. Heartbroken or sad.

Instead of letting despair take hold, she’s eyeing the pool guy, realizing life’s too short to wallow in regret or second guessing.

Maybe it was time she took the bull by the balls...

Or pool guy as was the case.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

© 2015 Bobbi Romance

Cover Art: Mareeka Karland

Editor: Katriena Knights

eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

Wet Dreamz

If I never clean another pool, it will be far too fucking soon
. Billy scooped more frogs from the pea-green pool and, glancing right and left for witnesses, dumped the offenders over the fence into Mrs. Kirsti’s neighbors’ yard.

Cam Kirsti was hella hot for someone her age. In her early thirties, her skin was like creamy chocolate, and her eyes resembled burnt caramel. Exotic and so damn sexy. She was tall with cleavage a man could lose himself and an ass—oh, damn, yeah. That ass. Wow. Her butt screamed for squeezing. Too bad her husband was a cheating fuckwad. The tool brought more mistresses home than one could shake a stick at. Always when Mrs. Kirsti was out of town checking on the sick family member her husband had vaguely mentioned in the past. How anyone could even think of another woman when they had one as hot as she was, Billy didn’t know.

If she was his? They wouldn’t leave the bedroom. He’d hand-feed her strawberries just to watch those lush lips open and close as they nibbled the wet sweetness. A door slammed, and he knew Mr. Kirsti had arrived home again.

He’d love nothing more than to pulverize the asshat, but he was just the pool guy, and though his gut said Mrs. Kirsti hadn’t the foggiest notion about her husband’s dalliances, for all he knew, she did. So he kept mum as the Kirstis were his best-paying customers, but took notes in case the day ever came when she needed to know.

He’d been gone only two-weeks on his vacation, and somehow they’d let their pool go swamp green. He’d left the number to another pool guy who had been filled in on their pool, but apparently neither had taken time to call him.

The flutter of a curtain drew his attention toward their sunken den with its floor-to-ceiling window.

Yep, Sir Humps-a-Lot was at it again. Some blonde, nude, was pressed up against the glass and getting hammered from behind. Her palms were flat against the window, and her breasts were smashed against it. Billy brushed his way closer, keeping his head low as he watched them. With his sunglasses on they wouldn’t know where his gaze was focused—on the pool or on them. Of course it wasn’t like they gave a shit if he saw anyway, as the curtains were left wide open.

Her face was contorted with pleasure as her body slid up and down against the glass. Her pussy was shaved so close he saw the pink between her lips even at his distance from them. Dude was a cheating ass, but Billy wasn’t immune to the erotic scene of a well-pleased woman on the verge of orgasm.

In one quick move, the blonde went from pressed against the glass to on her knees with Mr. Kirsti’s cock in her mouth. The son of a bitch actually looked out the window and winked in Billy’s direction. Like taking a woman was nothing more than another notch on his belt.

He returned his attention to the pool, never acknowledging the man’s scummy move. The air was turning muggy, making the later afternoon sun stifling. He set the pole down long enough to grab up the tee he’d tossed off and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He pushed his sunglasses back down from his head and chucked the tee back on the lawn chair.

As always, a few hours later Mr. Kirsti came out with a few hundred-dollar bills in his hand to pay him for his nice “pool work.”

“Billy, I’d like to hire you to come over daily rather than weekly for the next two weeks.”

“I feel I need to be honest here. Your pool doesn’t require daily upkeep. It would truly be a waste of your money, sir.” Not that the man was decent, but Billy was. And charging daily for something that wasn’t needed felt like theft.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught the blonde sashaying in their direction. Mr. Kirsti’s back was to her, so he had no way of knowing how she eyeballed Billy, winking secretively before she dove into the pool. His gaze followed her before returning to Mr. Kirsti’s.

“About the daily trips. I’m heading out of town and would prefer a man be about while I’m gone. If Mrs. Kirsti should need any physical assistance she’ll know you will be arriving daily for a few hours. Would you have any issues helping with more than pool cleaning?”

If Mr. Kirsti had any idea the level of fantasies he’d had over Mrs. Kirsti, he sure as Hades wouldn’t be asking him to basically watch over her.

“No problem,” he answered, fighting the boner rising at thoughts of being closer to the woman he’d fantasized over.

“I’ll double your pay starting next week.”

“Sammy
…
Aren’t you coming, uh, swimming with me?” the blonde interrupted.

“You done for the day?” Mr. Kirsti thumbed toward the pool as a sly grin slowly spread across his face.

“Yeah. I’m done.”

And he was, at playing fair, or decent.

* * *

Business trip? Yeah, the asshole couldn’t even come up with something new. Did he really think she was that dumb? He was off on another vacation with yet another one of his mistresses. She’d have left long ago, had it not been for the money. No point in lying to herself as to why she remained. Her brother’s institutions didn’t come cheap, and bottom line was, she trusted the place. Mikey was happy and safe.

When their parents were killed in a car crash, Mikey became her responsibility. He was sweet, loving, and more than she could handle. He’d become miserable and withdrawn when she’d tried. But they’d coped the best they could. His autism was just the tip of the iceberg. The list of mental issues was long, and when she’d married Sam, he’d suggested the place. Claimed a client placed his son there and the difference in the child’s happiness was immeasurable. She’d been reluctant. Feared Sam was requesting her to do so because he didn’t want him around.

Sam might be a cheating ass, but he’d urged her to give the place a try, for Mikey’s happiness. And he’d been right. Mikey bloomed being around other children his age all struggling with symptoms such as his. Somehow, deep within him, he recognized the kinship surrounding him, though he couldn’t verbalize it.

Sam seemed to genuinely love Mikey, but she didn’t want to chance losing the funding which helped keep Mikey in Blossoms Youth Center.

So she stayed. And damn near bit her tongue off keeping quiet about his extracurricular activities. Buried the hurt and bewilderment at why he strayed when she’d thought they’d been happy. Gave up any chance at happiness, but she loved Mikey, and well, she’d give her life for his if necessary.

The doorbell startled her. She grabbed her robe and tightened the belt, smoothing it down to try to lengthen the short silk. Impossible, yes, but she did it anyway.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kirsti. I’m here to clean the pool.”

Wow. She would never grow tired of watching Billy work. God only knew how many times she’d stood in her kitchen, peeping out her window, silently praying for him to get hot enough to take his shirt off so those sweat-shiny abs of his were in full view. How long she’d been rooted to the spot watching the large muscles in his arms bulge as he pushed the pool brush or pulled the pool net.

Or even how many times she’d pushed her hand down her panties and worked her secret spot until she’d come. Right there in the kitchen standing at the sink, with one hand working her tit and the other swirling her button.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Kirsti?”

“Oh I’m sorry. I
…
I wasn’t expecting you so early, or in fact today.” Yeah, the more she woke from her waking wet dream, the more things became clear. He shouldn’t even be here. “Cam, please. Mrs. Kirsti sounds so
…
so formal and old.”

“Cam it is then. Didn’t Mr. Kirsti tell you I’d be coming daily until his return? He wanted to make sure I was around at least a few hours in the event you might need some, uh, physical help.”

The way he’d said
physical
caused her ovaries to start cheering. And the way his Adam’s apple bobbed made her nipples wake and pop to high alert. She thought back though, and did vaguely remember Sam mentioning something about making arrangements for if she needed help, but she’d zoned out and missed the entire message.

“Yes. I’m sorry, he did mention that.” She felt like an idiot, babbling as she was. “Would you care to come in for some coffee?”

“No, I better go ahead and get a start on the pool before the heat really kicks up.”

“Heat?” Had he noticed her nipples? How could he know?

“Yeah. Weatherman said the humidity was supposed to get pretty gnarly today.”

Oh snap. Heat as in summer hot, not horny housewife hot. Oops.

“Well, okay then. Thanks for coming over,” she stated, about to shut the door, as he always used the side entrance to cart his chemicals.

“Don’t forget—if you need help with anything while I’m here, all you gotta do is ask.” He gave her a panty-melting smile and headed down to his truck.

She shut the door and headed for some coffee. And her spot in the kitchen, at the sink.

Though he’d started early, and she wasn’t even through with her second cup of late-morning coffee, Billy had already gotten hot enough to shed his shirt and was wiping sweat from his forehead with his forearm. Oh, to be one of those lucky little beads of sweat sliding down his body.

He’s hot, you idiot. Go offer him something cold to drink.

She turned toward the fridge then remembered she was still in her robe. Hauling ass to her room she tossed the robe off and pilfered through her closet for something sexy, but not obviously sexy. Something that appeared like a normal outfit for her, but one that would grab his attention.

And if you grab his attention, then what?

She’d deal with that if it happened.

It’s summer—you have a pool. Bikini time!

She corralled the girls into the lavender triangles and wiggled her way into the matching bottoms with string ties and snagged a pool towel from the linen closet, tossing it over her shoulder. She’d have to thank her bestie Tiffany later for her advice to leave her hair natural over the course of the summer. She’d claimed too many last-minute beach/pool party invitations always came in to chance ruining a good weave. Sure, she might have the money to leave said possible pool party and get her hair redone, but she was a fidgeter, and the thought of spending hour after hour sitting in the salon chair broke her out in hives.

Even though she was at her house, at her pool, and Billy had been nothing but nice and courteous, her nerves acted as if she were a sixteen-year-old girl heading out on her first date. Would he find her toned enough? Pretty? Would she give him a boner? Did the vixen from her past still live somewhere buried deep?

Oh yeah. Drinks. Duh.

What to take out? Tea.

Yes, something innocent. Like I’m not going out to get my flirt-and-stare on.

She balanced a tray with the drinks, opened the door, and tried to act all nonchalant as she headed toward a lawn chair and set the tray down on the small occasional table next to it.

“Hi. The house got a little muggy, and I thought a swim was in order. Thirsty?” she asked, holding out one of the glasses, which already had cool beads of sweat running down it.

“I’d love something cold. Thank you.” When he went to accept the glass, their knuckles brushed, and the spark from it zipped straight from her hands to her clit.

Yowza.

Billy tipped his head back and took several long sips of the iced tea. Several drops from the glass hit his chest and rolled down in a slow, languid motion. She had to fight the urge to follow the droplets down his body with her tongue. She was so busy staring at his waistband she hadn’t noticed he’d quit drinking and was watching her.

Was that amusement she caught in his gaze?

“Yeah. I think I’m going in for a few laps. I won’t mess up your cleaning or anything, will I?” Had he added chemicals? She hadn’t thought of that but needed a quick disappearing act to cover her embarrassment, and a quick dive was her only hope.

“Nope, its all
…
”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. Two steps later, she was safely under the water and swimming to the deep end. Once there, she broke the surface and took a much-needed gasp for air. She hoped he hadn’t caught how long she’d ogled his crotch. In truth, it was the perfect amount of time to get her imagination flowing and her body tingling to create the images her mind played out.