Page 8

“Morning,” I grunt, my voice rough from the lack of sleep. It feels like the words are scraping their way out of my throat.

She looks up, a soft smile crossing her lips as she glances toward me. “Good morning, Gage.”

I pause in the doorway, watching her with my baby.

There’s a certain tenderness in her I can’t quite place.

It’s not like I don’t see women like her.

Attractive, well put-together. But there’s something else.

Something that feels like it’s pulling me toward her.

Maybe it’s that she’s got this maternal thing going on, but I'm sure it’s like that with all nannies.

I clear my throat, trying to shake the thought away. “Zoe still sleeping?” I yawn, even though I already know the answer. The baby’s not making a peep, so I can only assume she’s passed out in Alejandra’s arms.

“Yes,” Alejandra answers, her tone soft. She shifts Zoe slightly, making sure she’s still comfortable. “She woke up a few times last night, but she’s been down for the past hour, in my arms.”

“Good.” I nod, even though I’m not sure why I feel like I need to say it.

I glance at the clock—it’s 0415 now. I’m wasting time, and I can’t afford that. “I’m heading out for PT. I’ll be back to shower and get ready later.”

“Of course,” she replies, and I feel that little spark of something stir again in my chest. “Have a good time.”

I force myself to look away before she notices.

I don’t know why I’m still standing here. Why am I lingering?

It’s not like we’re a couple, and I’m going to kiss her goodbye.

Get it together, Donovan.

I take a breath and head for the door, trying to ignore the thought of her standing there with Zoe. Trying to ignore the way my chest feels tight whenever I think about her.

I’m halfway through the company run when I start thinking about her again.

I know better than to get caught up in my thoughts, but it’s hard not to. She’s beautiful. She’s capable. And she’s here, living in my house, taking care of my daughter, my responsibility.

It’s the way she moves—effortless, calm.

Like she was born for this. I’ve never seen a woman handle a baby the way she does.

Granted, I don’t pay attention to women like that on the regular.

There’s this level of care and patience I’ve never known, and it’s got me thinking—what does she see in me? What is she expecting from me?

She’s just doing her job.

Alejandra isn’t expecting anything beyond you paying her.

So how do I ignore the pull I’m feeling towards her?

She’s not like the women I’ve known. Hell, I don’t even know her, but every time I look at her, I can feel something stirring inside me. It’s stupid, I know that. If I let myself get close to her—if I let myself feel anything for her—it could jeopardize everything.

My career.

My daughter’s well-being.

The discipline I’ve spent my entire life building up.

This is a job. That’s it. And I can’t let anything distract me from that.

The run ends too soon and like I’m on autopilot, I’m back at the house, drenched in sweat, my muscles tight.

I almost want to skip the shower so I can get out of the house as fast as possible.

I don’t have time for anything other than getting back to the daily normal.

There’s a whole new set of rules now—parenthood, responsibility.

The stakes are higher than they’ve ever been, and I can’t afford to let anything mess that up.

I step inside, still fighting the internal tug-of-war.

I can feel her presence before I even see her—the scent of her lingering in the air like a soft, unspoken promise.

Begging me to explore it. I know I’ve smelled the floral scent somewhere before but I can’t place it.

It’s not roses or jasmine; no, it’s something softer and so much more delicate.

So light that it makes me want to lean into her neck to smell it on her skin.

Get it together, Gage. You’re just torturing yourself. Maybe you need to go out with the guys and get laid to get her out of your head.

I don’t want anyone else.

She’s standing in the kitchen, pouring formula into a glass bottle. Her hair’s still pulled back, and she’s wearing that same soft T-shirt from earlier, the one that hugs her in all the right places. Zoe isn’t in her arms, though.

Don’t engage, just head straight upstairs.

I’m rethinking that shower right about now as I try not to let the attraction get to me.

I need the release. With an almost ten-month deployment plus four and a half weeks of being stateside behind me, I haven’t even touched, let alone looked at, a naked woman.

My balls are screaming at me in protest and my cock is begging to find its home between the woman before me’s legs.

Fuck, I cannot get a hard-on right now.

Too late.

I could bend her over the counter or even the kitchen table and...

She catches my gaze just as I start to sprint toward the stairs, and for a second, everything inside me pauses. Her eyes are warm and knowing. And she’s not judging me for being the tired, worn-out guy standing in front of her. The guy that fucked up and had a kid with a random hookup.

She just looks... steady. Like she’s got it all figured out.

Maybe she does.

And here I am with a semi in the shortest fucking shorts a motherfucker could be wearing. Note to self: buy the longer shorts at the MCX.

Kill me now.

“Everything go good while I was gone.” I ask, trying to sound professional, but it comes out clipped, like I’m holding myself back from saying something else.

Think of anything else, Gage.

Shit; don’t look at her tits.

Too late.

Is she even wearing a bra?

I wonder if they would fill my hand...

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Yeah,” she says, looking down as she finishes preparing the bottle. “She’s just about ready for her morning feed. You didn’t have to rush back, though. You gonna take a shower?”

I don’t know why that simple suggestion makes my throat tighten, but it does.

I nod, trying to let go of the feeling. “Yep, I'll be down to say goodbye to her shortly.”

I turn to walk toward the stairs, but I can’t stop the thought from creeping in.

She’s too damn close, and it’s already messing with my head.

I shut the door to my room and head straight for the bathroom.

Turning the shower on full blast, I strip and stand under the spray.

I don’t have time to waste, I need to be at HQ at 0800.

Fuck it. I squeeze some body wash into my hand and start stroking.

The images of Alejandra flood my thoughts, and my body takes over.

As I stand under the scorching hot water, my mind is a mess with desire at the front of everything. I can feel my body responding to the fantasy playing out in my head. My strokes become more frantic, my breathing ragged as I imagine myself buried deep inside her.

Would she beg me to fuck her, get on her knees for me and suck my cock? I bet her perfectly pouty lips would look so good wrapped around me.

I want to know what hides underneath her shirts.

The sound of my own moans and grunts is almost deafening, and for a moment, I’m worried that she might hear me. But the sheer intensity of my arousal quickly overrides the fear of being caught. I’m consumed by the thought of Alejandra’s soft skin, her gentle touch, and her sweet smile.

I pump myself harder and the water pounding against my skin seems to amplify the sensations coursing through my body. My balls are tight, my cock throbbing with need, and I know I’m on the edge of release.

God, I need this.

With my release right there, I hear a faint knock at the door. It’s soft, hesitant, and it makes me freeze. My heart skips a beat as I wonder if Alejandra might have heard me after all. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and for a moment, I’m paralyzed with uncertainty.

I hold my breath, my hand still wrapped around my cock, as I wait for... something. Another knock, a voice, anything. But there’s only silence. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed.

Slowly, I let out a breath and tried to calm myself down. I tell myself it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, that Alejandra wouldn’t actually be standing outside my bathroom door in my bedroom. But the thought sends a thrill through me, and I feel my arousal spike again.

I almost want her to hear me.

I take a deep breath and try to focus on the sound of the water pounding against my skin. I need to finish what I started, but now my mind is racing with thoughts of Alejandra and what could have been if she had indeed heard me.

I stroke myself again and the images in my head become even more vivid. I imagine Alejandra standing outside my door, listening to me pleasure myself. The thought that she could be getting off on hearing me pulls me closer to release.

Just as I’m about to come, I hear the knock again. This time it’s louder, more insistent. I pause as I realize that someone is indeed standing outside my door.

“Shit... uh... yeah?” My voice is hesitant, unsure, projecting it over the sound of the shower going.

God, this is the worst edging of my life.

“Gage?” I could barely hear her soft voice over my heart thundering in my ears.

My mind goes blank as I realize Alejandra is standing outside my door. And she’s talking to me while I’m still stroking myself under the shower.

I’m frozen in place, my hand still wrapped around my cock, as I try to process what’s happening. Alejandra’s voice is like a spark to gasoline, and I feel my arousal surge to new heights.

God, I’m so fucked up.

“I... uh... I was wondering if you needed any help with anything,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I’m not sure what to say or how to respond. Part of me wants to tell her to come in, to join me in the shower and to finish what I’ve started. But another part of me is screaming to keep her out, to protect her from the raw, primal desire that’s coursing through my veins.

I would destroy that poor girl’s heart, her pussy, and the great thing we have going for Zoe.

I stand there, paralyzed with indecision. Alejandra speaks up again. “Gage? Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while. It’s nearly eight.”

Her words are like a splash of cold water, and I’m suddenly aware of how ridiculous this situation is. I’m standing in the shower, jerking off while talking to the nanny through the door.

I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, trying to sound somewhat calm and collected. “I’ll be out in a sec.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the door, and for a moment, I wonder if Alejandra has left. But then she speaks up again.

“Okay... well... if you’re sure you’re okay...”

Her voice trails off, and I can sense her hesitation. She’s not sure what’s going on, but she knows something is off.

Just your boss being a total fucking perv and fucking his hand to the thoughts of your pretty face and perfect body.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps walking away from the door.

As soon as I’m sure she’s gone, I let out a sigh of relief and finish. Imagining that I’m balls deep in her cunt and she takes every single inch of me as I come. The release is intense but also fleeting, coating the tiled wall in front of me. When it’s over, I’m left feeling guilty and ashamed.

I just came to the thought of my daughter’s nanny. Imagining it was her I was fucking. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Turning off the shower and stepping out into the cool air of my bedroom, I know things are about to get complicated.