The sun blazed down on the sprawling Mediterranean-style villa. Isabella had bought the luxury property six months ago after her messy divorce. Today, the pool’s filtration system had started acting up, and the service had sent their best: a young, athletic pool boy named Jax.
He arrived at noon, exactly on time. Twenty-four years old, Jax was the definition of summer heat fantasy, a tight white tank top that clung to his sculpted chest. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, powerful thighs strained against board shorts, and messy hair fell over his green eyes.
“Mrs. Isabella? Jax from Crystal Clear Pools. Ready to service that beautiful pool for you.”
The way he said “service” sent a spark straight between her thighs. She lowered her sunglasses, taking in every inch of his athleti
