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“There you are,” a voice coos. “Shh, I’ve got you.”
It’s calming and familiar, but I can’t place it. I seek it, but the more I strain to listen, the further away it drifts.
“No, don’t go,” I plead, but it doesn’t work. I’m alone in the stillness and silence, but I’m no longer afraid, so I float in this space until...
I fling upright with a breath caught in my throat. Figures. I tossed and turned most of the night, finally falling asleep in the early morning hours, only to have a nightmare.
Collapsing back onto the bed, I stare at the ceiling. Sunlight sprays through my blinds, bathing the room in gold. The hope of a new day feels more like dread. I’m spiraling.
He was on a date. A date! It’s not that I thought the guy was a monk, with a body that is panty-melting, scorching hot and a smile so disarming he could steal your watch and you’d thank him for it. He probably has a hundred girls lined up for a chance with him. Most of all, his personality and the way he sees the world are vitalizing. Optimistic. He’s the fucking pied piper of happiness, and I’d follow him anywhere.
Remi is pure goodness, through and through. He’s a young, single, eligible bachelor—of course he’s going to date. I just wasn’t prepared to confront it.
In my head … sigh … he belongs with us. He’s ours. It’s selfish and irrationally possessive, but it is what it is.
And his date, Mandy. I can’t even pick on her because she’s sweet and pretty, and perfect for him.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to do the one thing I’m supposed to know how to do—take care of my baby. When my child screamed for him while kicking me, I went into a self-flagellation of epic proportions. If I had a whip, I’d strike my own back. A sliver of shame imbeds itself in the soft tissue of my heart.
Isabel’s guttural cries became so fervent she couldn’t breathe and was making herself sick. I didn’t want to call him. I really didn’t because the more time I spend with him, the harder it is to not act on the indecent thoughts rolling around my head.
But I did call. And he came. He got here in less than ten minutes—not an easy feat coming from the city.
When Remi walked through my front door, the sight of my daughter lunging for him made me want to whip his ass too. How can I be jealous of him and for him at the same time? The manny worked his magic on Isabel, and then… Swoon.
He’s a charmer, that one. I wonder if he knows he has all of us wrapped around his long, fuckable finger. To be honest, though, his appeal is more than merely physical. Last night proved how emotionally attached to him I’ve become. When he held me, try as I might, I couldn’t resist. My body melted right into his.
Closing my eyes, I try to conjure the sensation of being in Remi’s arms. The peace and comfort that spread through my limbs. The safety. The conviction that nothing would go wrong as long as he was holding me. It’s been a long time since I didn’t feel so alone.
“I need you to know I’d literally die for that baby.” His statement was already a potent aphrodisiac to my uterus, but then he added, “Her mother, also,”. Making my ovaries explode all over the damn place.
This shit’s getting messy. What was simply lust is creeping into another L category. A category that is nothing but an illusion. It’s not real. I know first-hand. It’s fickle and fleeting, and has no place in my reality. Like Tina said, what’s love got to do with it? Fucking nothing, that’s what.
Rolling onto my back, I punch the mattress with the side of my fists. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m so fucked.
You wish.
Yeah, that too.
Groaning, I climb out of bed and throw my bathrobe on because I’m wearing the shortest shorts I own and a cami that leaves nothing to the imagination. I don’t want him to think I’m seducing him. Right?
Tightening my belt like it will save my chastity, I head to Isabel’s room to see if she’s still sleeping. I take a moment to watch her. The soft fall and rise of her chest tells me she’s had a restful night. But the rosiness of her cheeks reveals a stubborn fever that will not go away.
Rubbing my groggy eyes, I mindlessly head to the spare bathroom to find the bottle of Tylenol. But when I open the door, I find something else—a wet and whistling hot manny, scrubbing his hot manny chest in the shower. Oblivious to my entrance and subsequent staring.
Every nerve ending in my body flares alive with thrumming need, and saliva pools in my mouth.
I should get out of here. I shouldn’t be peeping on the nanny unawares. I should at least cover my eyes.
I do none of those things. My eyes take the decision right out of my brain’s control as they slowly sweep down the most gorgeous specimen of a man I’ve ever seen.
His dark floppy hair is slicked back, showing the full spectrum of his Adonis face. Ripe red lips whistle a tune innocently while I imagine them sucking on me salaciously. I imagine myself all warm and wet inside that shower with him. Would he wash me with those strong hands? Linger on the most sensitive parts as he scrapes his teeth along my skin? Would he try to get those hard-to-reach inside places?
Christ. My pussy puckers, and I clench my thighs together.
I follow the rivulets of water from his head, down his cut torso, to the V of his pelvis, and my lungs expel the last breath they’re ever going to breathe.
Holy hell, he’s a show-er.
