The Nanny: A Single Dad Romance

by Aria Ford

  “I’ll try,” I said. Focusing on the little illuminated screen was hard. I was so tired. I hadn’t realized how running from that gang had frayed my nerves ‘til now.

  “Ah, there we are.” He took the right turn and we headed off back into the town. As we drove, I felt myself getting more and more exhausted. I was cold too. I started shivering about a block away from my apartment. By the time we got there, I was shuddering violently.

  “Hell,” he said, looking sideways at me. “You don’t look okay.”

  “I’m…fine…” I managed to say through chattering teeth. I wasn’t. My head was pounding and I had a suspicion my temperature was going up. I felt achy and tired and cold.

  “Is this it?” he asked, as the GPS made a noise and we reached my apartment building.

  “Yes,” I said, clenching my teeth to stop the noise of them. “Thanks.”

  He stopped the car in the driveway, but didn’t get out. He looked at me, worriedly. “You know, I can’t just leave you like this.”

  “I’ll be f…fine,” I said, biting my lip to stop the shakes. “Just let me off and I’ll…manage.” Heck, what was wrong with me? Every inch of my body was shuddering and I couldn’t see straight.

  “No,” he said. “I won’t. At least let me walk you inside.”

  “Thanks,” I said. He got out and opened the door for me. I blinked. No one had ever done that for me before. I looked into his eyes. He looked into mine.

  We didn’t say anything, but it felt as though a little spark jumped from me to him. I shuddered and let it warm my body a little.

  “Come on,” he said, shaking his head. “Let’s get you in.”

  I walked slowly up the steps beside him. When we reached the door, I went blank. I had to put in the code. Suddenly it was gone out of my brain. “Uh…”

  He looked at me and I felt annoyed and embarrassed.

  “I can’t remember the damn code,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My mind’s gone blank. Oh…” I swayed back a little, righted myself. The memory returned. I punched in the four numbers and the door opened. “There.”

  He didn’t say anything, just looked at me worriedly and held back the door as I passed through. I took the door from him, leaning against the hydraulic arm with all my weight. That was when everything went blank and I collapsed.

  “Jackie?”

  I came to a moment later. He was kneeling beside me with his hand on my cheek. The door was shut and we were both in the dark foyer of the building. His face was hovering close to mine. I was looking straight into his eyes.

  In that moment, something happened. I don’t know what it was. But I felt it and he seemed to feel it to. He leaned in closer and I leaned up and his lips brushed against mine.

  Oh. My.

  His lips against mine were sweet and tender and their touch was so brief and so gentle that it made my insides clench with longing. I reached up and my hand traced his cheek. Our eyes were locked again.

  “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you off the floor. It’s cold down here.”

  “I can…manage,” I said shakily. He chuckled and bent down, drawing me to my feet. I swayed and leaned against him.

  “No, you can’t,” he insisted stubbornly. “Now let me get you up to your apartment. Here’s the lift…” he pressed the button for the door and it opened and he followed me inside. I was grateful for that—at that moment, I could barely stand up straight. And besides. He was close and warm and exciting and my body was aching with longing now that we were here in this small space, filled with warm light and the scent of cologne, rich and musky.

  We looked at each other for a moment. Then, very gently, he repeated the kiss he had given me earlier in the hallway. I leaned against his chest and reached to stroke his hair. His tongue grazed along the line of my lips, probing and warm. I parted them a little and he slid in.

  I had never imagined kissing like this. It was different. I closed my eyes as his tongue slid between my lips, firm and tangling, lightly, with mine. I tensed as the tip of his tongue encountered the tip of mine and gently licked it, then moved on. It was as if he was tasting me, licking my mouth with his tongue, exploring me inside. I melted against his chest and clung to him, my body pressed against him.

  It was mad and we both likely knew that. We didn’t know each other at all. We had just met at the wrong end of town in the night. In winter, in the pouring rain. But that kiss was amazing and it was firing my blood beyond anything I had ever felt before. And somehow, we knew that we both wanted each other and it was right and good and absolutely, exactly, what we needed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Scott

  I had no idea how it happened. I was in her apartment, leaning against the door with her firm feminine form in my arms, exploring her mouth with my tongue.

  She moaned a sweet moan as I kissed her and it made my loins ache and I drew her close against me, reveling in the sweet taste of her mouth, the way her body yielded to my touch.

  “Baby,” I murmured into her hair. “I want you so much.”

  She nodded. When she looked up at me, she still looked flushed, but her eyes were huge and a slight crazy look had entered them—a delicious, exciting look. A look that said she wanted me.

  Me. Not my money, my fame, my name. Me.

  That did it. I kissed her again, more slowly. She leaned into me and we kissed. I could have spent the whole night just kissing her, except that now my whole body was raging with desire. I felt myself stiffen and I knew my cock was big and turgid and pressed against her, begging for her.

  “Jackie,” I whispered again. “Would it be okay if—”

  “Yes,” she murmured against my lips. Total acceptance. “Yes. Yes.”

  I felt the sound of that shoot through my blood like fire. She wanted me. She needed me. Just like I wanted and needed her. We kissed again and this time I moved against her, pressing my body against her, thrusting my need for her against her warm body. She chuckled.

  “Bedroom?”

  “Mm.”

  We went through to her bedroom. The apartment was tiny, but well organized. She had a small sitting room and kitchen and then the bedroom. A bathroom opened off it—I could smell shampoo and toothpaste through the door to my right, though it was in darkness. I leaned against the door as she shut it behind us. Then we kissed again.

  “We should get out of these,” I said, stroking my hand down the wet clothes she wore. She nodded.

  “Yes.”

  Again, the word lit fires inside me. I couldn’t quite believe this was happening. It was so, so surreal. Here we were, in the middle of her apartment and all I knew about her was her name. Jackie Jefferson. Right now it was enough.

  I fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, shrugging my blazer off first and then resuming my work with the buttons. I soon found myself undressing on autopilot, watching her instead.

  She took off her coat, then lifted her shirt and drew it over her head in one fluid motion. Her breasts underneath it were round and firm, straining against the lacy bra she wore. She reached round the back to unfasten it but I moved first.

  “Allow me.”

  She shivered as I unclasped it. I drew it down her arms slowly, teasing myself. Waiting for the moment when her breasts would be revealed.

  I cast the bra onto the chair and then looked down. There they were.

  Round and full, with big red-brown nipples just tensing in the cold air. I reached for them greedily. She moaned and pressed them against me, and I felt as if I had entered some fantasy. I kissed my way down her pale throat, reached her cleavage and then took one of those nipples into my mouth. I was shivering too as I sucked it and it had nothing to do with the cold.

  She had big nipples, firm and hard, and I loved the feel of them stiffening in my lips. This wasn’t a painted actress—this was a real woman, and I loved the scent and feel of her and the way she whimpered as I teased her.

  My ot
her hand caressed her breast and she let me touch her, drawing the nipple out between finger and thumb and stroking it. I could have stayed there all night except that the scent of her was calling out to my body, making me want more of her. And more.

  I pushed her back lightly and she landed on the bed with a thump. She giggled breathlessly. I joined her. Her trousers were tightly fastened, and I worked at the zipper, drawing the cold, wet fabric away. Then I looked down. Her lacy panties matched the bra, a surprisingly feminine set after the more boyish way she dressed. I could smell the musk of her, and I wanted more than anything to bury my face in her sweetness.

  I drew the panties aside and she gasped. I sat up.

  “Okay down there?”

  “Mm.” She nodded. Closed her eyes again. “Yes.”

  “Good.” I moved slowly, so as not to do anything she wouldn’t like, giving her plenty of warning. This was largely new territory for me—I’d gotten used to women who knew more than I did about sex, for goodness’ sake. I listened to her breath as I kissed my way down her body, pausing when I reached the sweet indent of her navel.

  “Yes?” I whispered.

  “Mm.” She moaned and the sound spoke such longing that I knew it was okay. I moved between her thighs and parted them gently. I was shivering as I smelled her and then licked her, lapping at her clit and making her moan and shake. She was jerking and crying out as I sucked her and she gave a cry that made me know I’d made her climax. Good.

  When I looked up the expression on her face was stunning. She was a beautiful woman, with those big gray eyes and that full mouth. And her hair, drying out now, was a soft brown that was closer to blond than black, a pretty color. I felt proud to have satisfied her the way I evidently had.

  “Oh…” she moaned, her eyes flashing open as I shifted position and began, urgently, to undress. She sat up and reached out a hand, running it down my chest slowly. I smiled.

  “You are sure this is okay?” I asked. Not that I wanted to do anything differently now—when I took off my pants my manhood was throbbing and thick and it was all I could do not to explode when I touched it.

  “Yes,” she whispered. She lay back down again as I came to kneel beside her. “Yes.”

  ***

  What could I say about that night? I had no idea. I only knew that I had never felt so wonderful. I looked at Scott where he knelt beside me on the bed and my whole body melted when his eyes looked into mine.

  “Yes?” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  Then he was positioning himself between my knees, sliding inside me. I gasped. He was so big, so full, so firm. He filled me up, grazing over all the special places inside me. When he moved, I felt something I had never felt before. Absolute longing.

  I was shivering and shivering as he thrust inside me and there was nothing like it as he knelt up and made deeper, slower thrusts, each one pushing right into me. I would have expected pain—he was bigger than I was used to and he was moving firmly—but there wasn’t any. My body wanted his. I was ready for him.

  I didn’t think it was possible for me to come so regularly. But as he moved inside me, his body knowing and his scent and sounds reaching right inside me.

  As I cried out, so did he. Then he collapsed.

  We lay like that, my arms holding him, him buried in me, our bodies relaxed, until I woke.

  We were both cold and shivering, so we scrambled into bed. It was far too late by then for anyone to do anything besides sleep. So we slept.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Scott

  I dragged myself out of bed the next morning with immense regret. I slipped out, leaving Jackie sleeping, and went to the shower. I wanted to stay where I was, to explore further the absolute amazing gift she seemed to have for making me feel awesome. But I couldn’t stay.

  As I cleaned myself in her shower, I recalled the night before. It was incredible. Thinking about her made me hard again so I stopped thinking about her. I finished in the shower and tiptoed out of the bathroom, the towel wrapping me.

  “Jackie?”

  She was still fast asleep. In repose, she could have been eighteen. Her face was smooth and unlined in sleep, her plush lips parted as she breathed. I felt my loins ache and bit my lip. I couldn’t wake her.

  It’s Saturday and you need to get back. Besides, it’s weekend. Let her sleep: you don’t know if she’s sick or not, for pity’s sake.

  I felt bad. I should have brought her up to her apartment, stayed with her until she called the doctor, and then politely left. I was an asshole. I stayed here, took advantage of her and then forgot she was ill. She collapsed in the hallway, for pity’s sake! That was why I’d stayed.

  I looked down at her, wondering what I should do. I didn’t want to wake her. I should just slip away quietly. I reached out to touch her, then thought better of it. Pulled up the coverlet and left her asleep. I grabbed my things from where I’d left them—luckily I’m neat-minded, and I’d left them all on the floor in a small pile by the bed—and slipped out into the sitting room to dress. Left the towel where I’d found it and continued on—less chance of waking her if I dressed in the sitting room.

  I buttoned my shirt, checked my hair in the small mirror over the dining table. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. Besides, who was going to see me before I got home?

  Then, with a mixture of regret and guilt, I slipped out of the door and silently away.

  I was sitting behind the wheel of my i8, thinking about her and the evening before, when I groaned.

  “You idiot, Scott.”

  I should have woken her. Should have thanked her. Should have at least said something! It was wrong to just slip away. But what could I say to her? Thank you for letting me take advantage of you when you were sick and helpless? Thank you for the most amazing sex of my life thus far?

  You can’t say anything, Scott.

  On the surface, I’d done all I could do. I’d run away. I put my foot to the gas and headed out into the street.

  The traffic got heavier as I neared the center of town, then thinned off as I headed in the other direction, driving through the business district and through the suburbs until I got to the one where I lived. Leafy, green and tranquil, it was a far cry from where I’d been. All the same, as I headed up in the elevator to my stylish, penthouse apartment, I couldn’t help thinking of the other night, in the small, rattling elevator where I’d kissed her.

  I wish I understood what the heck happened. It was the most remarkable thing of my life.

  It was going to remain one of the mysteries of my life. The best mystery, admittedly. But a mystery nonetheless. Back at home I changed my clothes, did the laundry, had breakfast. I was ravenously hungry and remembering why made me smile. I always was hungry after a night like that.

  Not that I ever had a night like that. Not exactly.

  I couldn’t have said what it was that made that night so remarkable. It was just…her. She was natural and down to earth and trusting. Everything I’d never had before in a life that was, I must admit, contrived.

  I sat down on the white-leather couch and opened my laptop, checking my emails. There was one from work, finalizing the details of the meeting on Monday. I scanned through it, awed at how quickly the details of my everyday life had become secondary.

  Who cares about meetings, stocks, shares? I want to be with her. All I want to do is sit here and remember that night.

  I laughed at myself. I had so much to do, so much to think about. I couldn’t let myself get lost in memories of a night that, though remarkable, would never happen again.

  “Come on, Scott,” I told myself harshly. “Get busy. Do work. You’ll forget.”

  I didn’t.

  I unpacked dishes and took the laundry out of the washing machine and tidied things. I checked my slide presentation for Monday and watered the cactus and cleaned up. I went to the gym. Everything I tried to distract myself with only brought me back to memories of her. Eve
n in the gym, it seemed as if my body itself held memories of her, each little pull in my muscles—stiff from the cold and soaking weather the night before—reminded me of exercising the previous evening. With her.

  I found myself in the shower with a silly grin on my face, thinking about her breasts. This just wouldn’t do.

  “You know, Scott,” I told myself crossly, “you need to go out.”

  I decided to call a friend.

  “Hey! Art?”

  “Scott! How’s life?” a happy voice replied on the other side of the phone.

  “Not bad,” I said mildly. I hoped he hadn’t noticed the warmth in my voice as I said that—it surprised even me. This girl might have confused the hell out of me but she’d clearly made me happy as well. “I was wondering if you had lunch plans?”

  “Why not?” he said. I could hear he was smiling too. “Let’s meet at Artichoke.”

  “Great.”

  As I drove to our favorite restaurant—a new concept place a block away from where we worked—I found myself thinking about the fact that Art and I were both free on the weekend. Neither of us had families, while some of my buddies actually did. I am twenty-nine, I thought with some surprise. I guess a lot of people my age are thinking about that stuff.

  Seeing Art banished such serious topics from my mind. A skinny accountant of medium height with a crooked smile and masses of curly hair, Art was a great friend ever since we met five years ago. Now, he sat in the usual place in the restaurant, grinning manically up at me. I took in a deep breath, reassured by the sight of him.

  Just what I need now when I’m so confused.

  “Hey!” I greeted him.

  “Hey!” he smiled up at me with that skittish grin he always has, a bit like he’s permanently wired, except I know he’d never touch drugs. He doesn’t drink or eat meat either. I look up to him for that.

  “How’s life?” I asked, sitting down opposite him at our usual table.

  “Great,” he said with a wry twist of his mouth. “End-of-year reports coming up, boss driving me crazy about tax…nothing to see here.”