Daddy's Virgin Nanny: A Single Dad & Nanny Romance

by Tia Wylder

  Chapter Ten

  One Year Later

  Kira busied herself with packing the belongings of her apartment, her bulging belly getting in the way somewhat. Hercules had promised to return later that day, mentioning that there was something important at the office that he had to take care of. She had smiled and kissed him before he left that morning, a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of her feelings for him. Though she looked forward to a future of perhaps being married, she knew she couldn't push Hercules into it. His asking her to move in was a rather big step, however, and she could only appreciate that he hadn't dumped her the moment she began to gain weight. As much as she exercised, she continued to sport the slightest gut on her normally perfect figure. Her old friends from work had suggested what might be causing the weight gain, but it couldn't be what they were suggesting. As much as she loved Hercules, and was certain he loved her, she wasn't sure the man was ready to be a father. After all, he had only just managed to get his affairs back in order, after claiming the person found dead in his home was someone else entirely. When attempts were made to recover the body, to identify whoever it may have been and confirm Hercules's claims, the body was nowhere to be found. Having attributed to the work of graverobbers, and with all the prints and medical records for the man checking out, no one could refute that the man who stood before them was Hercules Orlando himself. When asked where he had disappeared to, he simply explained that he was finding himself.

  Kira supposed that finding her was part of the bundle. She smiled, resting her hand on her stomach and inhaling shakily. In spite of her reluctance to believe that she was pregnant, she had bought some tests just to confirm. Better safe than sorry, after all, and if she were pregnant, she would have to stop her occasional drinking. Having finished packing her belongings in various boxes, she grabbed the bag from the local drug store and fished out one of the pregnancy tests. She read the instructions, but they all essentially boiled down to the same basic thing. This one was digital and would leave no room for doubt. She would receive a resounding "Yes" or "No." She urinated in a small cup, placing the test in the cup to steep for half an hour. Then, she busied herself with moving all the boxes of her belongings by the door.

  It was around an hour later that she went to check the test, and she heard the front door to her apartment open and close. She stepped into the bathroom checking the test and swallowing a gasp as she read the results. As Hercules opened the bathroom door, she turned to face him. She sputtered a thousand words a minute, and he shushed her gently, pulling her into his arms and kissing her tenderly.

  "I have something to tell you," she blurted in excitement, and he grinned a friendly smile, taking a step away from her.

  "Yes, well. First, I have something to ask you," he replied casually. He reached into his pocket, rummaging around for a moment before withdrawing a small velvet box. Kira's eyes widened, and her mouth fell agape as Hercules popped the box open. Within was held perhaps the largest diamond she had ever seen in her life. She gasped as the man dropped to one knee, holding the ring out to her. "Kira, I've loved you from the moment we met a year ago. You gave me life in a way no one else could have… quite literally," he paused, and the two shared a laugh. "It would make me the happiest man in the world if you would do me the honor of being my wife," he murmured. Tears spilled down Kira's cheek, and she fumbled with the bathroom counter, knocking over her cup of urine and fumbling to grab the test. "What on earth--," he began, smiling in confusion as the woman whirled around to press the stick into his hand. He looked down at it for a moment, eyes narrowing in further confusion. However, when it struck him just what the three letter word meant, he shouted out in joy. Kira leaped into his arms, pressing rapid and tender kisses against his lips as he struggled to place the ring on her finger. When it slipped into place, he gave a victorious whoop, stumbling backward out of the bathroom.

  He collapsed back onto the single piece of furniture remaining in the living room, pulling her on top of him. Her round belly rested on his waist, and he leaned up to capture her lips with his own.

  “This is the happiest day of my life,” she blurted. “And I can think of only one way to make it better. Let’s say goodbye to this shoddy apartment in the best way I can think of,” she murmured, pulling her shirt off over her head. She tossed it to the side, stretching out on top of him much like a pleased feline. He wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning back as she fidgeted with the button on his jeans.

  “There are a lot of memories on this couch,” he murmured, breathing a sigh as his length was set free. She settled on top of him, intent upon enjoying the last moments they would be able to make love before the baby came along.

  "And we'll be making dozens more, together. A lifetime more," she murmured. The two moved together in a smooth rhythm, and Hercules breathed a content sigh before speaking.

  “A lifetime for you. Two lifetimes for me, technically,” he said teasingly. She smiled, nudging his shoulder gently.

  “I couldn’t have asked for a better ghost to haunt my bedroom,” she said warmly. He paused for a moment, pressing up into her before speaking in a strangled voice to correct her.

  “Former ghost.”

  The Gorilla’s Secret Baby

  By Bella Angel

  Chapter One

  Deandra

  Throughout my childhood and into my adult years, the only thing that ever made sense to me, was music. There was a structure to it, a rhythm, and a universal understanding of how it could be made, but no rules on how it should be done. In school I never understood math, history, science, or any of those basic subjects every kid is supposed to know. The only thing I knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, was music.

  My parents thought there was something wrong with me. They tried to homeschool me, tried sending me to doctors, but no one could explain what was wrong with me. Perhaps they couldn’t because there was nothing wrong in the first place. I had a gift, I could read notes before I could read books.

  I was playing tunes on the piano long before I learned how to ride a bike. When it came to music, I was a genius, but everything else was simply lost on me. Eventually, my parents gave up and homeschooled me until I finished high school, which took much longer than anyone expected. They tried to nurture my talents, and they took pride in calling me a musical prodigy, but I always knew they looked at me different.

  My younger brother, Michael, was the favorite. He wasn’t like me at all. He was smart, athletic, and charismatic. They showered him with attention and affection. He was two years younger than me. When it came time for me to apply to college, I wanted to apply to all kinds of music programs, but my parents told me we couldn’t afford the tuition.

  When it was Michael’s turn, they promised him any college he wanted. They helped him move out, paid for his tuition, and sent him money whenever he asked. It was sickening to watch, and it made me feel like I had done something wrong.

  Eventually, I just got used to it, I lived at home writing music and working in a dead-end job at the grocery store. I used my paychecks to buy used instruments that I could pick up and learn. I had what felt like half an orchestra in my bedroom closet. Clarinet, flute, French horn, trumpet, trombone, violin, you named it, I could play it and write music for it.

  My parents had a piano downstairs. It was one of the first instruments I learned to play. When Michael graduated from college, they invited everyone they knew and all of the family they could muster. I was told to play the piano in the background so people would have music to listen to. As usual, I was put in a corner while they showered Michael with their love.

  I did as I was told, starting with sheets of music on crinkly and yellowed paper before finally moving on to my own work. Some of it was written down, but most of it was etched into my soul. I didn’t need any guidance to remember how the notes fit together. I didn’t name my songs either, I usually recalled them based on the way I felt when I created them.

  The one I was currently play
ing was composed the night after my parents refused to help me go to a music program in college. They went out that night and left me alone as the house. I sat at the piano and cried for hours. The keys were wet with my tears when the song came to me. As I sat there playing it for Michael’s graduation party, I had to fight back the tears that were forming in my eyes. I could hear his voice carrying across the living room. I heard the satisfaction in his words and I could picture the smug expression on his face.

  He was so proud of himself and my parents were so proud of him. I closed my eyes and kept on playing.

  “Hey, what’s that song you’re playing?”

  My eyes shot open and the song ceased as I bumped a wrong note. The eager conversations that filled the house weren’t affected by the sudden stop. They probably weren’t listening in the first place. I looked over and saw my brother’s best friend, Devin Jackson. He was a star quarterback throughout high school and now he was playing for a college team with plans to get signed by the NFL one day.

  He and Michael had been friends for almost ten years. Michael brought him around all the time, but Devin never spoke a word to me. I had a crush on him for years, dreaming of that classic sports romance with the star quarterback, but one look at him would make any young girl blush. From the moment he entered high school, his body started to fill out faster than any other guy. Within a few years, he was sporting chiseled biceps and a rugged chest.

  He walked with this bravado that went beyond arrogance and instead simply made him look powerful. It was easy to assume he was full of himself, but I always thought he had a softer side. Whenever he would come over to the house to visit Michael, I always felt safe. Those feelings faded with time, but they never truly went away.

  After all these years, today, Devin Jackson was talking to me. I looked over and saw him standing head and shoulders above me as I sat on the bench of the piano. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit with a crimson colored tie. His charcoal skin blended perfectly with his deep brown eyes. He always kept his hair short, shaved right down to the scalp. It helped his striking features stand out.

  “It’s uh, it’s not something you’ve ever heard of,” I said.

  He chuckled as he sat down on the edge of the piano bench.

  “Try me,” he said.

  I felt myself blushing as I turned back to the piano.

  “It’s a song I wrote, actually.”

  I looked over at him briefly and saw his eyebrows shoot up.

  “You wrote that? It’s beautiful! What do you call it?”

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t have a name.”

  Devin nodded. He seemed genuinely interested in my music. It was a sudden and striking change. I hadn’t seen him in years, though. Maybe college changed him and Michael in a way high school never could. I wouldn’t have known since I spent my college years in my room, learning new instruments and writing new music.

  “Play some more of it, maybe we can think of a name, together.” he said.

  I looked back to the piano and to him again.

  “Right now?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah, it’s getting a little quiet. This party needs some of your musical touch.”

  I placed my fingers on the ivory keys and felt my hands shaking as Devin watched me. I took a deep, long breath, and started playing. I fell into a kind of trace as the notes started pouring out of me. It was as if my heart was singing and this was the only voice it had.

  Several measures went by and I felt Devin’s eyes watching my hands as they danced across the keys. Just as I was reaching the end of the song, Michael’s voice cut through the soft tones.

  “Devin, can I speak to you?” he asked.

  I continued playing, but the notes didn’t have the same impact. I didn’t want Michael to know I was listening.

  “Can it wait, man? I’m listening to the song Dee wrote.”

  “Her name’s Deandra, only her family calls her Dee. And no, it can’t wait.”

  Devin let loose a long sigh and stood up. My fingers kept on repeating their same dance as I watched him walk away. I looked down to the piano and started the song over from the beginning.

  Chapter Two

  Devin

  People thought life was easy for me. To an outsider, it looked like I had everything handed to me on a silver platter. What they didn’t know, was that I had to fight for everything I had. I had a dark secret that I’ve carried with me since I was born. The side that I showed the world, my human side, was only half of who I was.

  The other half was something darker, something ancient and long forgotten. I was a gorilla shifter. When my body flooded with adrenaline and I was on the brink of death, I could transform into a 400-pound beast with the strength of ten men. I didn’t know where this strange ability came from, or why I had it. I had given up on finding answers a long time ago. I had been adopted as a child and there was no trace of my biological parents.

  I never enjoyed shifting, but there was a part of me that felt a need to do it. It was an addiction, a hunger for adrenaline. That was why I became a football player. It was the only way to feel the rush without letting the beast take over. The rush satisfied the need, but there were times when I had trouble controlling it. If I shifted in front of all those people in a football stadium, my life as I knew it would be over.

  Thankfully, my best friend, Michael Princeton, was as smart as they come. He was always coming up with new ways to keep my abilities under control. In return, I always helped him with a certain problem his family had been dealing with since we were young.

  The day of his graduation, I was wandering through the living room I had spent so many weekends playing in as a child. It was filled with people, all here to celebrate his success. We both knew that success came with a price, but Michael stilled relished in it. I looked over and saw his sister, Deandra, or Dee for short.

  Michael knew I had feelings for her since we were young, but when he found out what I was, he made me promise never to pursue those feelings. He thought I was too dangerous, that I couldn’t protect his sister. That was ironic, considering all I had done for him over the years. Today, though, he was distracted, so I decided to say hello.

  I walked over to her as she sat at the piano. Dee had grown up into a big, black, beautiful woman with exquisite curves and a voluptuous body. I watched her hands dancing across the keys and listened to the beautiful music that she produced. No one, not even her brother, would deny her talent. They never had the means to support her, or maybe they didn’t want to, I never asked. Either way she deserved better. I started talking to her and it just felt right. I could tell she was shy, she didn’t have a name for the song she was playing. I offered to help her make one up, but our conversation was quickly cut short.

  “Devin, can I speak to you?” Michael asked.

  “Can it wait, man? I’m listening to the song Dee wrote.”

  “Her name’s Deandra, only her family calls her Dee. And no, it can’t wait.”

  I could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t happy with me. I let loose a long sigh and stood up. He led me through the crowded living room and into the hall that led towards the bedrooms.

  He spun around and narrowed his eyes at me.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “I was just talking to Dee, man chill out,” I said.

  Michael ran his hands through his short hair.

  “Don’t call her that!”

  I looked behind us and saw a few curious eyes gazing our way.

  “Chill out man, what’s gotten into you?” I asked.

  Michael shook his head. “It’s Dmitri, he sent one of his goons to the graduation today.”

  “Dmitri Mikhailov, the Russian mafia boss? I thought we dealt with that?”

  Michael shrugged. “Well, apparently he’s changed his mind. He wants the rest of the money my dad owes him, tonight.”

  The wind shot out of me like I had been punched square in the stomach.
<
br />   “Have you told your dad?” I asked.

  Michael shook his head. “No, I didn’t want to ruin his day. He seems happy for once. I thought we had taken care of it last time. I thought we were past this. I know he took the money to pay for my school, and I feel like I owe it to him to make this right.”

  I nodded. “You know I’ve got your back man. Just say the word.”

  Michael smiled. “You’re a good friend, Devin. Let me get the money together, and tonight we’ll meet them. We’ll just pay off the debt and be on our way. You won’t need to do your thing.”

  I wasn’t too sure about that, but I had helped Michael out of a few tight spots before, so I was ready if and when he needed me. We had never gone toe-to-toe with the Russian mob, but there’s a first time for everything.

  I stayed away from Deandra, even though it was more difficult than ever. I knew Michael didn’t need any more stress than he already had weighing down on him. That night we said goodbye to his parents and told them a story about going out on the town to celebrate. Michael was carrying a ludicrous amount of cash on his person as we made our way to the meeting place.

  Last time we did a deal with Dmitri and his boys, things got tense, but we all walked away, nice and smooth. This time was immediately different. For starters, Dmitri wasn’t there. Instead he had sent three of his pale and tattooed lackeys to do the deal. They were all tall and built like freight trains with bulging muscles and scarred faces. They stood quietly under the streetlights in the local park. As we approached, one of them held out a hand.

  “That’s far enough. Who’s your friend?” The center one asked.

  “His name doesn’t matter. He’s here as an insurance policy,” Michael said.

  The Russian man in the center chuckled and gestured to the other two goons standing beside him. They each reached into their windbreakers and pulled out large handguns.