by Kira Blakely
Evan still hasn’t scored Ariana’s number, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. The moment Charlie became my girlfriend, he started begging her for Ariana’s number like crazy. Charlie was still in the process of patching things up with her sister back then, so she couldn’t give him what he wanted, but she did give him the best piece of advice she could ever give him if he wanted to have a chance with the wicked sister in the Jameson family.
The only person who deviated from the plan was Parker, who, after accepting that Charlie and I were together, was never the same again.
He abandoned his dependable, charming (Charlie’s words, not mine) persona and shifted into a brooding, silent, and surly asshole. In short, he turned into me, pre-Charlie, only he was the less hot version.
According to Charlie, he frequented bars to try and drink away his misery, snapping at anyone – even women – who attempted to talk to him mid-drink. Well, at least he wasn’t getting himself into more trouble than that.
I parked the car in front of the main entrance and got out before heading straight for the receptionist. I was about to ask if Charlie was still in a meeting when my girl came out of one of the elevators and smiled brightly at me. I smiled back and kissed her hello before grabbing her suitcase for her and walking her back to my car.
“No practice today?” she asked.
“I wanted to surprise you,” I told her, and she shook her head, grinning at me.
“You didn’t have to do that. I mean, I know how tired you are,” she said, and I shrugged.
“I want to. Besides, it’s been a while since we had some time together,” I pointed out, and she bit her lip. It was true, though. Between her meetings and my games and practices, we barely had enough time to catch up with each other every day, but somehow, we made do.
I took her to a fancy dinner and then to the theater to see that movie we’d both been wanting to see but were too busy to go and watch. After that, we just walked around the mall for a little bit, and then I told her that that was all I had planned. She bit her lip and stared up at the ceiling as she thought about what else we could do. A few minutes later, she looked up and gave me a coy grin.
“Take me home, Sean. I want to show you something I know you’ll like back in my bedroom,” she said, and my dick twitched with excitement.
“Yes, ma’am.”
***
Charlie
I had never felt as sexy and desirable as when I was with Sean. The man unleashed the femme fatale inside of me who wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted, and she wanted to make love with her boyfriend right then.
I had only ever slept with one guy before Sean, and he didn’t make me as insatiable for sex as Sean did. I didn’t just crave the pleasure it gave me, but the feeling that I was completely fulfilled and loved.
Sean put the pedal to the metal, and we arrived back at the mansion in record time. We ran inside and up the stairs in haste, sidestepping away from Sarah at the last minute so we didn’t hit her. I opened the door to my room, and as soon as we got inside and locked it, Sean immediately held me in his arms and kissed me hungrily. He nibbled on my lip, and I moaned as his hands traveled from my stomach and pushed my shirt up over my breasts.
I let him pull it off me and then I helped him out of his, my fingers shaking as I unbuttoned his polo shirt. I leaned down and brushed my lips over his chest, peppering it with kisses before he pulled away from me.
It was his turn to explore my body with his mouth as it glided across my cheeks, down to my jawline, where he bared his teeth and nipped lightly. He went lower, and I felt a sharp pain in my neck as he buried his teeth into it, giving me a hickey that I would no doubt have a hard time covering up tomorrow, but right now I didn’t care. It felt so good.
He paid attention to my breasts next, circling one nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, then giving my other breast the same treatment. My skin felt like it was on fire. Sweat started to gather in my brow, and I felt dirty and sticky from Sean’s touch and kisses, but I reveled in the feeling, and I was so willing and ready to beg for more.
He guided me to my bed, and I quickly remembered what I had been wanting to do, so I grabbed his hand and pulled him instead. I pushed him back to the bed and he looked at me in confusion but relented as I crawled over him and unbuttoned his fly.
“I want to try something,” I murmured, and his eyes darkened with lust and need as he lifted his hips so I could take his jeans off. I gasped a little as I realized he had gone commando today, his huge cock proudly jutting out at attention, a dribble of pre-cum already on the tip. I licked my lips and held him at the base, making him hiss sharply. I put the tip of his dick into my mouth and swirled my tongue around the head, and I spied Sean rolling his eyes heavenward in ecstasy. Feeling a burst of confidence at seeing how I was making him feel, I pushed him up in my mouth much farther until I could feel him at the back of my throat and sucked hard.
He was a goner. He gradually lost all sanity and just started raising his hips to push himself deeper inside.
He didn’t want to come in my mouth, so he pulled away and I pouted at him.
“You’ll get plenty of chances to finish me that way, but right now, I want to be inside of you when I explode,” he said resolutely. “Turn around,” he ordered, and I quickly took the rest of my clothes off and did as I was told.
I immediately felt the warmth of his skin brushing against mine, and I instinctively curled up to him. His hands caressed my butt before going up and cupping my breasts.
“I want to take you from behind,” he growled softly, and I moaned in anticipation, rubbing my ass against his hard cock.
He slapped my ass before I felt his cock brushing against my entrance. He pushed inside of me with one long stroke, and we both quivered with need.
He grazed his teeth on the shell of my ear as he pounded into me, his tongue coming out to taste my neck, and I convulsed in pleasurable agony.
My arms gave out, and I dropped my head to the mattress. I saw his hand near my face, and I grabbed it and bit hard onto his thumb as he continued to pound into me relentlessly, gaining momentum until the headboards started to shake and the bed started to squeak, threatening to collapse from the power of Sean’s thrusts.
My body stiffened and the blood in my veins started to sing, and I arched my back as I came again, squeezing around his cock and making him groan.
He moved inside of me a couple more times before he let go, pouring his seed inside of me, spurting it along my wa
lls so strongly that it stimulated me into another orgasm. He pulled out quickly, and I winced at the sudden, empty feeling he left behind. He fell to his side and pulled me with him, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me on the forehead first before putting his head down to give me a gentle kiss on the lips.
It was moments like this when my heart soared as the contrast between our passionate lovemaking faded into such gentle and affectionate touches afterward. I sighed, fully content.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice laced with drowsiness, and I smiled, feeling the same pull of exhaustion.
“Nothing. I was just thinking that I’m really happy you almost ran me over that day or we never would’ve happened,” I answered.
His chest rumbled as he chuckled quietly. “I’ll remind you about that the next time you yell at me while I’m driving,” he teased and kissed me one more time, murmuring words of love before I finally fell asleep in my love’s arms.
Exclusive
BIG DADDY
A Single Daddy & Babysitter Romance
*Never before published.*
Babysitting sucks…
Until I walk in on the daddy working out. Whoa, baby.
He's tall, muscular, and so frigging hot.
He is wet with sweat – and I’m wet with desire.
The way he growls lifting those weights makes me want him to growl while bending me over.
Truth is, I wasn’t thrilled to be b
abysitting.
I’m a pastry chef, not a babysitter.
But damn, just the smell of him is making me delirious.
I think I’ll hang around a while.
This is one man I wouldn’t mind putting something in my oven.
Chapter 1
I must have been out of mind.
That’s the only explanation I can think of for having accepted Gemma’s offer. After all, now that I’m here in her brother’s apartment trying to soothe this two-year-old girl who is upset about getting in trouble for using my lipstick on her face and on my recipe book, I realize I’m not cut out for this.
Yes, I don’t have a job because Noah just fired me. Yes, I need a place to stay because he also happens to be my boyfriend and he also kicked me out of his apartment. And, yes, I need some money because I just scraped out my savings to buy a new mixer.
But I can’t do this. I’m a pastry chef, not a babysitter. I don’t know the first thing about taking care of kids.
This is a big mistake, and the moment Gemma’s brother walks in through that door, I’m going to tell him.
“Sorry, kiddo, but I’m not like your Aunt Gemma,” I say to Lily as I wipe the lipstick and the tears off her chubby little cheeks. “I play with flavors, not toys. I knead dough, not clay. I have the patience to temper chocolate, not handle a two-year-old’s tantrums. Your Aunt Gemma is a smart person, I’m sure, and she meant well. But she just chose the wrong person to replace her. Your father is just going to have to hire someone else to take care of you. Someone more patient, someone more experienced. Anyone else but me.”
I stop as I hear the keys jingle and the door open.
That means Ben Shore is here.
I go to meet him, taking a deep breath as I prepare to tell him what I’ve just told his daughter, only to have my words evaporate and my breath stolen as I gaze upon possibly the hottest single dad I’ve ever seen. Walking through the door is a man well over six feet tall with deep blue eyes, thin lips, and perfect teeth. His hair chestnut brown is swept to one side, his shoulders are broad, and his belly is taut.
Gemma said her brother was an architect and that his wife had died during childbirth, but she didn’t say anything about him looking like a GQ model or having enough sex appeal to knock my panties off.
Holy shit.
“Michelle Garner, right?” he asks as his eyes meet mine, his voice as dreamy as his looks. “You’re the new babysitter?”
He’s like this freshly baked, still piping-hot, golden brown cream puff, soft and yet firm to the touch and oozing with sticky deliciousness. How can anyone say no to that?
I wipe the saliva that has escaped the corner of my lips and swallow the lump in my throat before flashing him my most dazzling smile.
“That’s me, all right. Starting today, you can count on me to take care of your little princess.”
Chapter 2
At least, she looks like a princess now, I think as I watch Lily sleeping soundly in her bed in her pink pajamas, stuffed toys on either side of her heart-shaped pillow, and a blanket with her favorite Disney princesses pulled up to her shoulders. Her cheeks are clean now and all traces of my ruby red lipstick is gone, though I can’t say the same for my recipe book. On her head is her plastic tiara.
I carefully take the tiara off and set it down on the bedside table around her Tinker Bell snow globe and run my fingers gently through her soft, reddish curls, which she must have inherited from her mother.
Poor girl. To think she never knew her mother.
Looking at Lily, I feel a slight pang in my heart. My mother meant the world to me up until the day she passed away a few years ago due to kidney failure. To this day, though, she serves as my inspiration. Her influence is apparent in my desserts, and some of her recipes are still among mine. I can’t imagine how my life would be if I didn’t have her.
And yet, this girl doesn’t have a mother. She barely even has a father. Ben works hard to provide for her needs and is stuck to his laptop even when he’s home. Gemma was the person Lily looked up to, the one who cared for her. And now, Gemma’s gone, off to marry someone and start her own family, and I’m left to fill her shoes.
I’m the only one Lily has. How can I leave?
Sure, she has a bit of mischief in her. Sure, she can be bossy like her father, who just gave me a longer list of rules to follow than my most meticulous cooking instructor. And, sure, it’s becoming more and more obvious that Gemma spoiled her quite a bit. But in the end, she’s just a little girl who desperately needs someone to understand and take care of her. When she gives that toothless smile, she just melts my heart and all my worries away, making me think that maybe, just maybe, this job isn’t so bad after all.
Then, of course, there’s Ben, that delectable treat that I just can’t pass up.
I wonder how he’ll taste.
I turn off the lamp and leave the room quietly, leaving the door ajar. I tiptoe down the hall and head to the kitchen, only to stop when I hear sounds coming from Ben’s room.
Curious, I press my ear to the door. My cheeks grow hot as I realize they’re grunts, gasps, and curses.
What the hell?
I suppose this is normal. He’s a virile male in his early thirties without a wife or girlfriend. Of course, he’d need to find a way to get rid of all that pent-up… whatever it is that makes cocks hard and panties damp.
Speaking of damp panties, mine are getting wet as my heart pounds and sends heat throughout the rest of my body. How I wish I could see through the door. I can see him sitting on the edge of his bed – or is it standing against a wall? – his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. His briefs are lowered and his long, thick, swollen cock is between his fingers as he jerks his hand back and forth.
Fuck.
Just the thought of it makes me want to rush in there. I imagine myself kneeling in front of him, sucking him off while his fingers become entangled in my hair. My right hand drops to my waist, slips beneath my waistband and slowly touches that part of me that is as wet and as hot as caramel on a stove, ready to reach its boiling point.
Just then, I hear footsteps approaching the door – he’s already done? – and I pull my hand out of my pants, scrambling to the kitchen. Moments later, he follows, still panting. When I turn around, I find him covered in a sheet of sweat, the front of his gray shirt drenched.
He wipes some sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Whew. That felt good.”
“I bet it did,” I blurt out without thinking.
As soon as I’ve said it, I look away, blushing. I’ve never been good at holding my tongue, but that was a complete slip.
Oh, Michelle, how can you be so stupid?
Thankfully, Ben doesn’t seem offended. He leans on the end of the counter that I’m not cleaning up as he gulps down his water.
“Do you also work out?” he asks after drinking.
Work out? I guess that’s another way to say it.
But, seriously, is he asking me what I think he’s asking?
“When the need arises, yes,” I answer truthfully. “I mean, we all have to—”
“Take care of our bodies?” he finishes as he puts his bottle back and grabs a chocolate bar.
“Yeah.” I nod.
I guess that is essential in taking care of our physical well-being. After all, it can’t be good to—
“Don’t you think you should do it more regularly, though?”
Thank goodness I’m not carrying anything breakable, or I might have dropped it. As it is, I turn to him and place my hands on my hips.
“You know, Mr. Shore, it really isn’t any of your business, is it?”
Ben lifts his hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Still, I continue, “What I do with my body and my spare time isn’t any of your concern. So whether I do it everyday or twice a month, whether it’s with my bare fingers or the handl
e of a hair brush, it’s not…”
“Hair brush?” Ben’s eyes narrow. “How on earth do you work out with the handle of a hair brush?”
And just like that, it occurs to me that he was actually talking about working out.
Fuck.
Of course that’s what he was doing. Why on earth did I think he was talking about anything else? Why would he when his daughter was sleeping in the next room?
I feel like slapping myself in the forehead. With a shovel.
“Michelle?”
“Sorry. I think I’ll go to bed now,” I mumble, heading back to my room before I melt from embarrassment.
Seriously, Michelle, what were you thinking?
Chapter 3
I find myself still thinking of the awkward conversation well into the next day as I’m fixing Lily’s room.
Why did I think that way? Why did I jump to such a conclusion?
Because it’s what you wanted to think. Because your thoughts reflect how you feel.
And clearly, I felt desire.
I want Ben.
I know I just broke up with Noah, but the truth is that the romance in our relationship died months ago. In fact, I don’t even remember the last time we had sex. With each day, I became more of his pastry chef than his girlfriend. When he’d had enough of me not following his instructions, he fired me, effectively ending our relationship at the same time. And to think that I helped him start his restaurant.
Asshole.
And why wouldn’t I want Ben when he’s so much hotter? Just looking at his arms makes me wish I was wrapped up in them, preferably on a bed. And his arms are not all I want to be wrapped up in.
I shake my head as I put one of Lily’s books back on her shelf. I mustn’t give in. I mean, am I really ready to be in another relationship? What do I even have to offer him? I have no job, no apartment. What if he kicks me out after I sleep with him because I make him feel uncomfortable? Where would I go then?