Overprotected

by Lulu Pratt

  Lily pops her head in the room and smiles. She uses a series of comically complicated hand motions to ask if he’s asleep. I nod and smile back.

  “Come on out.” She whispers. “You need a break.”

  I steal one more gaze of my son before utilizing my newly developed ninja skills to get up and leave him still sleeping in his bassinet. It doesn’t always work, but he doesn’t move after I move him. I drink in one last glimpse and gently shut the door behind him.

  “I did the dishes.” Lily tells me and hands me a glass of water. “All the bottles are in the sterilizer and the living room is tidied.”

  “I love you so much I could cry.” I say, genuinely touched. “You didn’t have to do any of that.”

  “That’s why Aunt Lily is here, crazy lady. I’m here to help however I can with my perfect nephew. Just, you know, not the diapers. Even Aunt Lily has limits.”

  “I can’t say I blame you.” I grin. “Baby poop is terrifying. No one tells you this, but it’s truly terrifying.”

  “Well, now you can go take a bath and a nap and forget little Beau’s disgusting butt action. Go relax! If he gets up, I’ll handle him. You’ve been going for days with Eric out of town, and you need to put your feet up.”

  “I guess you’re right.” I do feel completely worn down. Eric tried to postpone his trip to New York, but some sort of emergency popped up and no one else was there to pick up the pieces. “I can’t thank you enough for coming over with him gone.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Thank me later. Go take a bath.”

  “I’d hug you, but I’m worried my smell will offend you.”

  “It’s the thought that counts.” Lily winks at me. “Now go away. I’ve got some popcorn and terrible TV to catch up on. Pax keeps deleting Nights of Our Lives from the DVR and I am seriously behind.”

  “All right, all right.” I concede. Popcorn and TV sound fun. Feeling like an adult again sounds wonderful. But so does hot water, and the desire to be clean wins.

  I let out a low whistle when I open the bedroom door. It was a holy terror mess this morning, but the bed is now made and the laundry is all put away. A candle is burning on a bedside table, my favorite lavender, and all the exhaustion I carry in my shoulders melts away. That Lily, I don’t deserve her.

  I step on something soft and look down. Rose petals lead me into the bathroom where a hot bubble bath waits. Tears of gratitude prick my eyes. The rose petals are maybe a bit much, but she knew how tired I was and this is the best gift I could have asked for.

  Off come the sweatpants and the shirt covered in spit up. I slide into the hot water and feel immediate ease. I always found the answer to life in the water, but Beau made baths next to impossible. This is the rare treat that I really need.

  She must have tossed a bath bomb in here, too, because everything feels silky and smells amazing. My eyes grow heavier the longer I sit, and soon I’m no longer in the bath tub, but on a balcony, dancing with Eric. Almost like the days I fantasized about him across a mediation table, except this time we’re tender and seductive, instead of domineering and cruel.

  The moon is bright and the sky is perfectly clear. Frank Sinatra croons overhead and our bodies meld as we sway to the music. Having a baby seriously dampened our levels of intimacy, but being this close to him, dancing, is just as sexy as our times together naked.

  “I’ve missed you.” Dream Eric whispers in my hair. His fingers rake across the exposed skin on my back. Dream Me still wears the sexy evening gowns. “The days were too long without you.”

  “I missed you too.” Dream Me whispers back against his lips. I can feel his breath fuse with mine and the soft kiss of his eyelashes against my forehead. “The bed isn’t the same without you.”

  “It won’t be empty anymore.” Dream Eric promises.

  He kisses me softly, teasing my lips with his. I press him for more, but he only laughs quietly and leaves a tiny bite on my upper lip.

  “What do you want?” He asks.

  “You.”

  Eric finally obliges, crushing my mouth with his. He’s dominating and powerful, but then slows down and kisses me tenderly. He tells me he loves me with his touch, lets me know how deeply he missed me with his tongue. Every kiss stirs the dormant places within my body awake, like I’ve been renewed. Shivers trip down my spine.

  The weight of his hands against my head is so real I could cry. I know this is a dream, these kisses and these soft touches, but I miss him with my entire being. I just want him here.

  “Kate.” Dream Eric whispers against me. “Kate, wake up.”

  “I am awake.” Dream Me whispers back.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I slowly open my eyes. The water is still warm and soft against my skin, something sweet tickles my nose, and there is something in front of me that I can’t quite make out.

  “Surprise.” A familiar voice says softly. He pulls back and Eric grins brightly at me. “Enjoying the bath?”

  “You’re home!” I squeal and wrap my arms around his neck without thinking twice about getting his clothes wet. This is better than the bath. “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”

  “Finished early, told them all to fuck off because I needed my wife and my son. They’re sending over a few documents for me to review tonight, but I’m otherwise all yours for the next week.”

  “This is incredible.”

  “Not as incredible as you in this bath. Lie back, my love. I’m going to bathe you.”

  “Bathe me?” I ask, a little coy. I run a finger down his arm because I can’t not touch him. He’s been gone for days and I’ve missed him so fiercely. “That sounds scandalous.”

  “I live for scandal,” he says, cheeky.

  Using a soft washcloth, Eric slowly washes every inch of me, starting with my feet, and massages my exhausted body along the way. It’s a heavenly, delicious feeling and I could almost fall asleep as he moves up my legs.

  It’s only when he hovers over my center, still tightly wound from dancing with him in my dreams, that I feel awake. I try to slide closer to him so he can touch me, but he moves up my stomach and around the swells of my breasts. I never knew being bathed could be so erotic.

  “Sit up.” He says softly and moves behind me. My body is at war between relaxation and arousal. “You’re so beautiful, Kate. This amazing body that carried our son inside, and now cradles him on the outside? Stunning.”

  “It’s smushy and tired.” I murmur, eyes closed and lost in the nearness of him.

  “It’s perfect.” He places a single kiss on the back of my neck that promises to ruin me. “Come, my lady.”

  He offers his hand and helps me out of the tub. I’m wrapped in my favorite robe and carried to bed, Eric never turning his attention from me for a second. He lays me down gently, robe open, and presses hot kisses against my skin: my mouth, my collar bone, the valley between my breasts.

  I watch his dark head slowly work down my body. He drags his teeth against my hips and sets my heart aflame. The closer his mouth gets to my center, though, the more panic I feel.

  “Steady, my love,” he murmurs against my hip. “It will be okay.”

  “Things have changed.” I whisper. “Your son was a beast, remember?”

  He runs a finger over my swollen pussy lips and I can’t suppress the moan. He repeats it again and my legs fall open, granting him the access my anxiety wants to deny. He gently opens me up and runs two more fingers against my exposed wetness.

  “It’s just as beautiful and delicious as ever.” He says, his voice husky and deep. Eric’s voice drops when he’s turned on, and it, in turn, arouses me all the more. “There is nothing wrong with you, Kate. You have everything, everything, I could ever want.”

  The flat of his tongue engulfs my tender flesh and my chest seizes, my vision blurs. Every fear I have melts away in an instant. I no longer fight him, but leave myself exposed and ripe for his pleasure.

  “That’s my good girl,
” his voice rumbles against my clit and it steals my breath.

  His mouth finds all the spots I thought disappeared. Every place his teeth would make me moan, or the places where a flick of his tongue would send heat flooding through me, are as vibrant as ever.

  Eric’s hair tickles the inside of my thighs as his mouth makes love to me. He kisses and sucks, licks and nibbles. He treats me like a piece of fruit grown just for him. Every touch is sweeter than the last.

  I try to watch him. I love to see his eyes burn through me while he licks and fucks me, but the pressure mounts and floods through me. It’s been so long since he’s touched me this way that my body is unable to handle the intensity.

  “Eric.” I breathe between moans. I don’t know what I need to say to him, I just want to know he’s here, that he’s real.

  He slides his hands underneath me and pulls me in closer to him. There is no escaping the pressure of his tongue. He destroys me and rebuilds me with every kiss and every flick of his tongue. I close my eyes and lose myself to the sound of him grunting softly.

  A memory flickers through my mind, a view of him stroking himself when he licked me during our first time together. I remember how sexy it was to see him so worked up over the act of pleasuring me.

  I pry my eyes open and see him lying on his side, one hand under me, but the other now gripping his cock as he licks me. It is all I need to lose myself totally to the surging electric current in my veins.

  My body shakes and shivers under him as my mind goes blissfully blank. He presses harder against me, licking up every bit of juice my body releases through the orgasm. It’s sharp and powerful, my first real, earth-shattering one after giving birth, and it is everything I ever wanted.

  I collapse against the pillow, breathless. His tongue travels across my swollen lips once more and causes my entire body to shiver. I reach for him, still magnificently erect in his hand.

  “This was for you.” He grunts, voice tight and straining. “My pleasure is secondary.”

  “I want this for you.”

  I roll over and down the bed before he can protest. I take his length in my mouth all at once, the head hitting the back of my throat. Eric’s groans become more prominent. He works his base while I suck on his head, savoring the feel of him again in my mouth.

  He’s already done most of the work, so every suck and lick against his cock makes him jump and twitch. I gently press against the space behind his balls and take all of him again. Like magic, Eric grunts and moans through an orgasm that shoots down my throat. I drink him in until he, too, collapses against the bed.

  He pulls me back to the pillows and covers us in blankets. We snuggle together, naked, for what feels like the first time in months. It’s my favorite feeling in the entire world. Nothing can touch us here.

  “I missed you.” I breathe softly.

  “I missed you, Kate,” he murmurs against my neck. “Sleep, my love. Sleep.”

  We lay entwined under a heavy duvet, our son sleeping a room away, and naked bodies reacquainted with one another. There is nothing on this earth I could ask for that would be more perfect than this.

  Billionaire Neighbor

  (Five-Chapter Preview)

  I spy with my lustful eye…

  My feisty neighbor confronts me on the street, accusing me of spying on her with my telescope.

  If only I’d known I could’ve been watching her in her bedroom, I hate a missed opportunity.

  But I’m not about to let this beauty past me now.

  Her curves are calling out to be touched by me.

  Turns out she’s working for my ex and will try to stand between me and what’s rightfully mine.

  She can try all she wants, I always take what I want.

  And right now, I want her.

  ***A steamy STANDALONE contemporary romance with a smoking hot hero. No cliffhanger, no cheating and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.***

  Chapter 1

  JADE

  I crouch down and quickly swipe the feather duster over all the little odds and ends on the living room table. I know for a fact everything is already clean, but I have a routine, and prefer to keep the place in pristine condition.

  A smile creeps across my face as I glance around the room. At times, I’m still surprised I live in such an expensive home in the most prestigious part of West Hollywood. Never in all my dreams did I think I would even walk through such a place, let alone actually live here. Luckily Rachel, my old roommate from college, introduced me to Magdalene Martez and suggested I apply for the nanny position she had available.

  Being a nanny wasn’t my first career choice, but I was out of options at the time. Fresh out of college with my English degree in tow, the job market was scarce. If only I could have known that before racking up all those student loans. But once I met Jacob, Magdalene’s son, I fell completely in love with the little boy. After three months of caring for him full-time, there’s no place I’d rather be. In fact, I’m with him more than his actual parents are. It’s to the point where people often ask if he’s my son. I’m lucky we have such a close bond.

  As if living in such a swanky place and caring for an adorable little boy isn’t enough, I’m able to fully dedicate myself to my real passion… cooking. The love I have for food runs deep and I have dreams of owning my own restaurant one day.

  In the meantime, I have my own personal in-house taste tester in Magdalene. It seems like every night I’m trying out new recipes, like the roasted duck I made last night, or braised lamb with red potatoes which I made two nights ago. The other bonus in my life is the never-ending supply of fresh ingredients to work with. Like everything else around here, no expense is spared when it comes to grocery shopping. Magdalene prefers organic home-cooked meals, which is right up my alley. Jacob has never had fast food and I make it my business to keep it that way.

  Just as I decide the living room is finished, Magdalene walks in with her purse on her shoulder. Watching as she stops to give herself a quick once over in the mirror, I find myself admiring her unbelievable figure. Most women need a little time to recover from childbirth, but Magdalene’s body has never looked better. Her fast metabolism helps keep her rail thin, just like she was in her modeling years, as far as I can tell from the photos I’ve seen around the condo. When she begins smoothing non-existent wrinkles from her tight dress, I wonder if something is bothering her.

  Her small hands tug at the beautiful silk scarf draped around her neck before she tosses it onto the sofa I’ve just finished dusting. I wish we were the same size, because I absolutely love her style. With her generous clothing allowance, she definitely has more than she knows what to do with. In fact, I’ve never seen her wear the same thing twice. Despite my fashion envy, I love the curves on my petite frame and wouldn’t change a single thing. Some girls can pull off the model look, I’m not one of them.

  Magdalene adds more lipstick to her already pouty red lips as she moves about in silence. The color pops against her perfect olive tone skin, and her sandy-colored hair cascades over her shoulders in beautiful waves. Jacob, who’s down for a nap, inherited his mother’s striking green eyes, although his eyes still hold that childlike innocence in them. Sadly, that feature is long gone from Magdalene.

  “Jade, don’t forget to wipe down the picture frames,” says Magdalene, pointing her perfectly manicured finger in my direction.

  I never forget. I know the ins and outs of this place better than you do.

  I pick up the photo closest to me and smile, remembering the day I snapped it. It’s a picture of Jacob, captured mid laugh as he played with his father, Heath. To be honest, I hate any and all interactions I have with Heath Vanguard, one of the biggest assholes in Los Angeles. He’s overly demanding, and every word he has ever spoken to me has been extremely condescending. It seems Jacob is the only person who can make that man crack a smile, and even then, it’s a rare occasion. I don’t understand why Magdalene puts up with Heath, considering he only sh
ows affection to his son.

  Although I don’t care for how he treats me, he treats his on-and-off girlfriend Magdalene ten times worse. She’s the mother of his child, but she may as well call herself a glorified concubine. I’ve seen her cry on more occasions than I care to count, and to me I don’t think it’s worth it. Everything she could possibly want is at her fingertips, everything but Heath. When he feels like being bothered, he summons her to meet him at a moment’s notice. Whatever he wants, he gets, and it’s all on his time.

  “I’m stepping out with Mr. Vanguard,” says Magdalene. “I’ll be back after dinner so no need to wait for me. Marie should be here in about an hour for Jacobs’s lessons, so make sure he’s had his snack before then.”

  Marie, Jacob’s French tutor, is an absolute terror, and I do my best to avoid her as much as possible when she’s here. She comes in three times a week to tutor Jacob. Well, she comes in and points at things as she says them in French while Jacob blows spit bubbles. I’ve never heard of anyone tutoring a nine-month-old child, but for the right price anything is possible. Magdalene read about infants picking up languages before they can speak, and the rest is history.

  I try not to cringe watching Magdalene slip on her shoes, grab her purse, and sashay out the door. Peeking out the window just in time, I spot Magdalene exiting the building. Sure enough, the black Bentley Heath always sends is parked right out front, with the driver holding open the door to the backseat. Magdalene takes her time getting inside and I shake my head as the tail lights disappear into traffic.

  He calls, and you run to meet him.

  The shitty part is, he never bothers to call her himself. His secretary makes the calls for him, sometimes even going through me. He schedules meetings with her as if she’s a manicurist, or some other hired help.

  I don’t realize I’m clenching my hand tightly until I hear the Tiffany frame clink against my ring. Glancing down at the picture still in my hand with a frown, my thoughts go to the man looking back at me. Even at forty-two, Heath is still fit as a fiddle, and annoyingly attractive for someone so mean. His blond hair has little touches of gray throughout and I hate to admit, if I didn’t know him personally, I’d absolutely give him a second glance.