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Suddenly the vivid memory of the last time I’d made love to Grace came to mind. The all-consuming, intimately addictive way she’d caught my eyes and held them with hers, the way my hands travelled sensually across her taut warm body, the way her fingers had explored mine. Sliding into her body, her warm tight heat enclosed my cock until there wasn’t even a hair’s breadth between her skin and mine.
Standing abruptly from the bed, I strode into my bathroom, disrupting the sacred visual and wrapped my fist around my cock. Slapping my hand around the cool tiled wall I tugged slowly at first, my mind trying to focus on something… anything to help me chase a fast release, but the only images my mind would let me choose were all and any that included Harper.
Strands of cum spurted from my cock as my body released the pent-up feelings of want I’d fought so gallantly downstairs. My twisted mind held a mixture of pleasure at the fantasy, and guilt for even having degrading sinful thoughts about how hard I’d fuck Harper, and all the dirty ways I would have had her, had our circumstances been different.
Anger and frustration squeezed tightly at my throat because Harper was the last person in the world I’d choose to fuck with… in any sense of the word. Yet as hard as I thought this, there was no shame in yanking off to the fantasy of a beautiful woman.
There had been many a time where my band members and I had joked about forbidden fruit in one way or another. Truth was, when faced with it under my own roof, it was no laughing matter.
With a pounding in my head, I fished in my bathroom cabinet and took out the sleeping pills William had previously prescribed, and I’d largely ignored. Taking one, I made my way back to bed and stared blankly at the ceiling until I eventually fell asleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
In the weeks leading up to Layla starting school, my daughter kept me busy. I’d been thinking long and hard since my near miss with Harper, and the reality of taking responsibility for Layla needed a better balance. I knew how losing Grace had felt, and I began to imagine how Layla would feel when the time came for Harper to go. It didn’t bear thinking about.
In truth, Harper was Layla’s mother figure and if Layla had a tenth of the feelings in her bones I had, I knew any parting of the ways would devastate her. Because of this, I felt there was no better time for Harper to have regular breaks and share the daily care of Layla.
Looking somewhat dejected, Harper was sent home to rest, giving me two full weeks to spend much-needed and long overdue time alone with my daughter.
Doing all the usual things, like fun inflatables, water parks, the zoo, and a couple of days spent over at Max and Sarah-Jayne’s, I got to bond with Layla in the most incredible ways. Building trust and becoming closer made me feel guilty and sad for all the precious moments in her life I had missed. I vowed then to try to go easier on myself and to be the best father I could from here on out.
Harper came home a few days early and although Layla was delighted to see her, she appeared somewhat reserved. By bedtime that evening, her behavior toward Harper had become ugly and defiant.
Through tears and tantrums, Layla’s constant refusal to comply with her routine tested Harper’s patience to its limits. A couple of times I went up to her playroom, but before I could interfere, Harper would frown and signal for me to leave with her eyes. I’d never seen anything like it from my daughter, and despite all we’d been through as a dysfunctional family, Layla had been blossoming into an adorable, sweet-natured girl.
Having no real idea what had come over my usually even-tempered, sunny child, I called Sarah-Jayne in desperation to ask for her advice because I had respected her parenting. Frankly, I was stunned when she told me what Layla was doing was a perfectly natural reaction to Harper’s absence.
Apparently, according to Sarah-Jayne, Layla’s challenging behavior was her way of checking whether Harper still loved her and contended children often try to sabotage relationships, when they are feeling insecure, to see if the person who’s supposed to love them really does.
There were two things I took out of the conversation. One, Harper was so important to Layla that leaving her for any length of time had made her feel insecure. And two, Layla had had no such reaction during the times I had gone away… or had she, and no one had told me?
Obviously, after learning all of this, I knew Harper and I had to work closely, and in tandem, to reassure Layla she was everything to us, and we knew this would be made more difficult with Layla starting school. It also sparked a conversation which gave us a stay of execution with Harper, who immediately agreed to extend her contract for at least another year.
Seeing my baby so insecure I was torn about letting her go. However, Harper reassured me all would be fine. And when the time came it was. Once again, Harper had known exactly what to do to make my baby feel settled and safe.
With Layla packed safely off to school, Harper stayed true to her word and took me in hand, devising a pretty stringent fitness program, which initially balanced, suppleness, core strength, and agility. “The cardio and endurance will come later,” she told me. “First, we need to relax your mind and body.”
For a nanny, she had the stamina of a workhorse and the strength of a grizzly bear… and the patience of a saint. No one—apart from those who had seen me train in the past—really knew how much effort it took to have the stamina and lung capacity to maintain a ninety-minute performance. The searing lights caused exhaustion and dehydration, and the vibrations from the equipment were pretty wearing on the body after half an hour or so.
Saying that, Harper had lived with us for years and I thought she knew me pretty well. She knew I was lazy and stubborn, and all exercise had lapsed, but she also knew from my fame I’d been extremely fit in the past, otherwise it wouldn’t have taken as long as it had, for the cracks in my health to show.
That first morning, as we headed back from dropping Layla at school, Harper chatted easily in my car, and all I could think of was making an ass of myself while she tried to teach me how to relax and learn to do her version of yoga. I knew she was good. A few times, not long after Grace had died, and I couldn’t sleep, I’d seen Harper by the pool at the break of dawn practicing yoga and meditating by the pool.
Arriving home, Harper got out of the car already dressed in tight yoga pants and a tiny white tank top. She began setting out mats by the pool as I went into the pool house to change. Matty was talking to Harper by the door and smirked when I came out wearing a pair of gray sweats and a T-shirt.
“I’m telling you now, Cole, you’re gonna sweat in those. I wouldn’t be surprised to see you down to your briefs by the time that girl is finished with you.”
Smirking, I raised an eyebrow. “You wish, Matty. I know seeing me in those is your secret fantasy. But I have news for you, real rock stars don’t wear underwear.” I winked. “Besides, I’m not that unfit, I’ll have you know.”
“We’ll see,” she called after me as she made her way back to the house. As I walked over to where Harper was already warming up I was stunned when she suddenly stuck her tight little ass in the air. Placing her head down between her arms, she proceeded to stretch one leg up through her hands, pulling her already tight yoga pants even more taut. A rough swallow stuck in my throat as my cock stirred. Fuck. My hand flew to the back of my neck at the sight of her perfect ass cheeks and my mouth went dry.
“There you are!” she exclaimed, turning to look at me. “I found this extra yoga mat, so you won’t get knee burn from the patio.” The mention of knee burn triggered a sexual connotation.
“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t mind a bit of knee burn if the activity’s been worth it,” I replied, and almost choked on my own words.
Harper flushed pink and tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ear. “Trust you,” she scoffed, a little embarrassed and rolled her eyes. Shaking her head, she shrugged off my comment and spread her feet in line with her hips to steady her gait.
My gaze fell to her bare feet and slim ankles as she moved, and I slowly dragged my prying eyes up to her face, but not before I noticed she’d discarded the tiny tank, baring her curvy tan midriff. Her ample voluptuous breasts were held together in a black Lycra sports bra, displaying her perfect cleavage. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
