Hosed: A Single Dad and Virgin Romantic Comedy

by Ruby Steele

  "I'm Leo," he says simply, and I stare for another minute before realizing he's answering my previous question and watching me expectantly.

  "Oh. Yeah. Morgan. Me. My name." I grit my teeth and roll my eyes, then take a steadying breath. "My name is Morgan."

  How do I function in society? I can't even formulate a complete sentence it seems.

  Leo smiles, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "I know."

  "What do you mean you know? Are you some creepy stalker that harasses hospital patients?" I narrow my own eyes suspiciously. The notion is a little alarming, though another part of me thinks it might fun for this guy to harass me.

  He laughs again. "Not quite. Just being a good citizen." He holds up the bag and the coffee. "I thought you might want something more than a hospital gown to wear."

  Hospital gown are the only words I register as I follow his eyes down to the horrifically unflattering mint green sheet that's posing as an article of clothing. Jesus, what must I look like? I haven't had a shower yet, so I have black smears of soot on my arms, and probably my face. I lift my hand to my hair to smooth it—it's a total wreck, a rat's nest. And here he is looking like sex on a stick.

  "Thanks," I mutter, taking the bag that he's holding out for me, but not looking inside, afraid if I take my eyes off him that he might disappear. That he's an oxygen-deprived dream.

  "Coffee?" he asks, still smiling.

  I look at it suspiciously, then take it and remove the lid, taking a whiff. It smells like vanilla and sugar, and my body already feels more awake, a Pavlovian response to the caffeine. But what if it's poisoned? I don't know this guy. What if he's some psycho?

  "What's in here?"

  "Poisoned apple juice. Come on, Snow White, take a sip." The smirk on his face is ridiculously sexy, just like the rest of him, and his joke makes me grin back.

  I take a sip, and the warm liquid trails down my throat, soothing the raw ache from the smoke I inhaled. I close my eyes and moan. "Thank you."

  "No problem." The roughness in his voice causes my eyes to snap back open, and I swear I see something more than humor in his emerald eyes. Something that looks a lot like what I'm feeling at the moment. But that can't be right. I must still be delusional.

  Setting the coffee on the table by my bed, I peek into the back he brought, then look back up in surprise. "You brought me clothes?"

  He shrugs and sits on the edge of my bed, watching me intently. This situation is getting stranger by the second.

  "Who are you?"

  He shakes himself and sticks out his hand. "Sorry. Leo Jacobson. I pulled you out of the fire today."

  My hand freezes in his at his last words. Fuuuck. This guy pulled me out of the fire. Out of my shower. Where I was naked. And masturbating. Could this be any more awkward?

  "Well, I hope the peep show was enough because I don't have anything else left to say thanks."

  And...yep. Always room for more awkward when I open my mouth. I'm surprised I'm able to speak at all with the foot that's constantly shoved down my throat.

  His eyebrows dart up, and he laughs. "No thanks necessary. Just doing my job."

  Trying to recover some of my dignity, I pretend that didn't just happen. "Is bringing coffee and clothing to people in the hospital also part of your job?"

  His eyes crinkle around the edges as that crooked smile reappears. "Only to those who are naked when I burst through their door."

  My mind jumps back to how I felt in that moment. The pure terror of being burst in on, the realization that my home was going up in flames and was about to take me with it. To cover how unsettled it makes me, I force a smile. "Do you often come to the rescue of naked women, or was it just my lucky day?"

  "Can't say it's happened more than a handful of times." He looks slightly uncomfortable, and I wonder if it's just as awkward for him as it is for me.

  "Thank you," I say, trying my best to sound as sincere as I feel. "For everything." I gesture to the coffee and clothes. "But mostly for saving me."

  We stare at each other for long seconds, and I can't help wondering what he's thinking. Unable to bear the tension suddenly filling the room, I throw my blankets off and hop from the bed, taking the bag with me as I head to the bathroom.

  It's only once I feel the cool breeze on my ass that I realize I've inadvertently given him yet another peep show. Damn these hospital gowns.

  I rush into the bathroom and slam the door, certain I hear that low, sexy chuckle coming from the other room.

  4

  Leo

  She's unbelievably adorable. Well, if sexy as hell can be considered adorable. While I tried to ignore that round ass as I carried her out of the fire, I don't even pretend to look away as she scampers toward the bathroom, narrow waist and flared hips on full display from the back of her hospital gown.

  My lucky day too, it seems.

  I can't even bring myself to regret coming here, even though it's so far out of the realm of professionalism that my boss would rip me a new one if he knew. Sure, it's okay to check up on fire victims. But bringing her clothes, including a bra and panties that might have been a bit more lacy than practical, is way past making sure she's okay.

  But as I sit here waiting for her to come back out, I know I'd do it all over again. Not only is she fucking gorgeous, she's feisty as hell. I love it. I debate how far over the line it would be if I gave her my number. Because I know I don't want this to be the last time I see her.

  The shower turns on in the bathroom, and suddenly questioning my motivation is the last thing on my mind. All I can think about is that I know exactly what she looks like right now, stepping into the shower, water streaming over her long dark hair, her full, perky tits slick with soap. My cock twitches to life, and I struggle to get the images that are burned into my retinas to go away. No such luck.

  When she emerges a few minutes later, I'm hard as steel.

  Her eyebrows fly up. "You're still here?"

  I can't tell if she's pleased or not. "Wanted to make sure you didn't need anything else." Liar. I wanted to see how she looked in the clothes I picked out for her.

  I take her in, my eyes trailing up and down her body. The purple wrap dress fits her perfectly, the nipped in waist emphasizing her curves, the color making her eyes even more violet. Her hair hangs more than halfway down her back in damp waves. And even without a touch of makeup, her porcelain skin is flawless, her dark lashes thick. I struggle to keep my breathing even.

  "The dress is gorgeous," she says, startling me out of the fantasy that's starting to play out in my head. "Thank you. A bit fancy for a hospital room, though."

  I lift my gaze back to hers and see the teasing smile, but I also see the way her eyes look glassy when she adds, "That's a good thing. If I only have one outfit, at least it's nice enough for work."

  I frown. One of the hardest parts of my job—other than when a rescue ends in tragedy—is seeing fire victims lose everything they have. Morgan is no exception. I saw her apartment. There is nothing left.

  Clearing my throat, I cross to her, taking her hands in mine. They're shaking. "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine how hard it must be to be in this position."

  She looks up at me, and I realize just how petite she is. I have a good foot on her in the height department. Her eyes are watery, and she gives me a tremulous smile. Without thinking, acting on instinct, I pull her into my arms. She fits right up against me, our bodies molding together as if they were made for each other, and too late I realize she can surely feel my straining cock against her belly.

  Nice one, asshole. If she didn't think I was a creepy perv before, she certainly will now. Yet all I can think is what she would do if I kissed the hell out of her. Knowing I'm reaching the limit of my self-control, I release her. She steps away, flushed.

  "I should go," I manage. "But I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you're okay. That you didn't need anything."

  She nods mutely, her face unreadable, and I clear m
y throat again.

  "Do you have someone here? Someone to stay with or...help you if you need it?" I overheard her tell her mother not to come. I'm not sure whether they have a bad relationship of if she just doesn't live nearby, but I want to make sure that Morgan has somebody that can be here for her. Because I have a sudden urge to be that person, and it's throwing me way off my usual game.

  She nods. "My friend Mina." She hesitates as if she's not sure of what she wants to say, then sets her jaw resolutely. "Did you see my apartment? Is there anything left?"

  I clench my teeth and look away for a minute. So no one has told her yet. "Yeah," I sigh. "I saw it."

  She watches me expectantly, and I hate to be the one to take away the trace of hope I see in her eyes.

  Shaking my head, I take her hand again as I say, "I'm sorry, Morgan. There's no easy way to say this. There's nothing left."

  She swallows a couple times, then nods, forcing a smile. "I figured." Then she shrugs. "I'll figure it out. I always do. Thank you again, Leo. Really."

  Her expression is so earnest, but I can see that she's fighting her emotions. Just as I can tell that her thanks is also a dismissal. She doesn't want me here as she processes the fact that she's lost everything. I nod and can't resist giving her another quick hug, what I hope is reassuring, not pervy.

  It's only after I'm out of the hospital that I realize I don't have any way of checking up on her, following up. It's probably for the best. It's stupid to form an attachment to someone I've rescued. There is a whole host of issues clouding the situation.

  But none of them seem to matter right now. All I can think about is that in a city of over eight million people, I'm not sure I'll ever see her again. And that I don't like the way that feels one bit.

  5

  Morgan

  I give myself a quick once-over in the glass of the elevator as I ride it up to my interview. If I didn't know that yesterday had been one of the single most traumatic days of my life, there would be nothing that would indicate it. I look good. The perfect combination of attractive and professional.

  Leo will never know how thankful I am that he brought me something to wear yesterday. I smooth the purple wrap dress over my hips and run my fingers through my hair, a small smile curving my lips with the knowledge that he bought this for me. It doesn't mean anything—the rational part of my brain knows that. But I don't feel rational when it comes to him.

  I haven't been able to get him out of my head, and this small connection to him makes me feel like I have some kind of sensual secret. The lacy bra and panties I'm wearing are ones he picked out. For me. I'd be lying if I said that didn't make me a little wet. That I didn't fantasize about him last night, wondering what would have happened if I hadn't been so unsettled by my body's visceral reaction to him.

  I glance in the mirror one more time, trying to shake thoughts of him from my head. It's ridiculous. I'll never see him again.

  The elevator dings and the doors slide open, and I force myself to push all thoughts of the fire and my dire situation from my mind. Yeah, I may only have the clothes on my back to my name, but I can't let that bring me down. Mostly, I can't let that dictate the way I handle the next thirty minutes.

  I need this job more than I've ever needed a job in my life. I have no choice but to nail this interview. The nanny agency that set up this appointment told me it was the only one available for the next two weeks. I can't wait that long for an interview.

  Taking a deep breath, I double check the apartment number I wrote down on a scrap of paper when I called the agency from the hospital room before leaving this morning. Then I paste a smile on my face and knock on the door.

  A minute passes and I knock again, starting to get nervous. Surely I have the right address? I start to panic and glance at the paper again. Yeah, it's right. A knot of dread forms in my stomach. What if I got the time wrong? As hard as I try to remember, I'm starting to doubt my memory. All of the information was saved in my phone—a phone I haven't had a chance to replace.

  Another minute passes, and just when I think I'm going to have to go downstairs and beg someone to let me borrow their phone, the door swings open.

  All I can do is stand there and stare, my jaw hanging slack and my eyes practically bugging out of my head.

  My eyes have a mind of their own as they trail down the very wet and very bare chest of the most ripped man I have ever seen in real life. His abs are the definition of washboard, though rubbing clothes across them is the last thing on my mind. More like I want to rub every square inch of my body all over his.

  My gaze drops further, and I want to send up a prayer of gratitude to all things holy. Because he is wearing nothing but a towel, and it's slung dangerously low around hips with that insanely sexy V that is guiding my gaze down, down, down...

  Holy shit, this guy is like a walking advertisement for sex. And that's when I realize I'm ogling my potential boss like I'm a horny teenager. That's what I've been effectively reduced to, ever since feeling Leo's hard length pressed against me yesterday.

  With what feels like superhuman effort, I drag my eyes away from his barely covered junk—which, from what I can tell, appears to be just as shockingly large as the rest of his body—back up the deep ravines of his abs, finally arriving at his eyes.

  Emerald green eyes that are full of both amusement and shock. Leo's eyes.

  If my jaw weren't already hanging to the floor, it certainly would be now.

  No fucking way.

  I take two quick steps backward, tripping over my own feet in the process, and he's there by my side in half a second, his arms wrapping around my waist and steadying me on my feet.

  "Morgan?" He sounds as bewildered as I feel. "What are you doing here? How did you...?"

  I try to put the pieces together, my mind reeling. "What are you doing here?" I blurt out, once again without a filter.

  He quirks an eyebrow. "I live here."

  The final piece snaps into place, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Because I've wondered for the past twelve hours how I might find him again. And now that I have, I'm met with the worst discovery possible.

  His eyes run down my body, and I realize he's still holding me in his arms. Arms that I seriously want to bite. Or lick. Or suck. Anything, really, that involves his hard body and my mouth. They're that fucking sexy. Yesterday, I thought they looked like they might rip through his shirt at any moment, all crazy Hulk-like. Feeling them press against my body now, they're even more impressive.

  When he meets my gaze again, the heat I saw there yesterday is back in full force. And I can't deny that I'm in no hurry to move away. That I wonder what he would do if I happened to tilt my head up just a fraction. If he would drop his lips to mine like I've been imagining since he appeared in my doorway at the hospital.

  I'm about to do just that when I feel a brush against my thigh and little fingers wrap around the arms I'm currently reveling in. Then a tiny, high-pitched voice sends me into a stupor.

  "Daddy? What are you doing out here in just your towel?"

  Leo jerks back, releasing me as if I'm as hot as the fire he pulled me from. "Um, Adley. Hey." He runs one hand over his jaw, his eyes going from me to the little redheaded beauty now pulling on his towel. For one precarious moment, I almost hope it falls to the floor. "I just got out of the shower and heard the door."

  He looks back up at me, confusion on his face again as if he has no idea why I'm here. And why would he? It's too crazy. Too ironic. And too terrible to be true.

  "Who is she?" Adley asks, and I turn my full attention to her, knowing that if there's any hope of salvaging this situation, it all rests on her little shoulders. Because no matter who this little girl's father is, I need this job more than anything else at the moment.

  I kneel down in front of her, holding my hand out to her, and when she takes it, I smile. "I'm Morgan. I'm here to apply to be your new nanny."

  6

  Leo

 
Morgan's words hit me as hard as a backdraft. Morgan? A nanny? For Adley?

  I struggle to mesh the ideas together, but it's not easy. Especially not when all I can imagine as I look down at her on her knees in front of me is what it would be like for her to look up at me all innocently, just like is she is right now, but with my cock shoved in her mouth as I come down her throat.

  I cough, trying to get my head on straight. I can't think like that. Not while my six-year-old daughter is standing next to me and I'm in nothing but a towel. I quickly step back into my apartment.

  "Come inside. Please. I just need to grab some clothes." Before my dick gives my thoughts away. "I didn't expect you until nine. Once Adley's at school."

  She rises slowly to follow me in, and I don't miss that Adley doesn't let go of her hand. "I'm so sorry. Was it nine o'clock?" Her face flushes. "I didn't mean to arrive so early. I couldn't remember the time—it was saved on my phone—and I figured it was better to be early..."

  Morgan trails off, obviously embarrassed, and I instinctively reach for her, wrapping my fingers around her free hand and squeezing.

  "It's fine. Really." I try not to let on that following right behind my shock, is a ridiculous level of excitement to find her on my doorstep. Even if she did just become forbidden fruit. The nanny? God, I'm so hosed.

  "Be right back." I flash a quick smile and head to my bedroom, leaving Morgan and Adley to get acquainted. I throw on jeans and a t-shirt and run my fingers through my damp hair. I don't work again for two more days, so it's casual attire for me.

  I walk back to the living room, and in the few minutes since I've left, they seem to have become quick friends. I lean on the door frame and watch as Adley drags Morgan around the room, pointing at the picture frames displayed on the surfaces. A mixture of Adley's drawings and photographs of us and our family are scattered about.