by V McFarlane
I tiptoe into the room and flick on the night light and then switch off the mains and head towards the door, gently shutting it behind me. I spin, ready to head back downstairs only to slam into a hard, warm chest.
Hands grip the tops of my arms to steady me.
“Are they sleeping?” Taron’s voice is soft, but the timbre goes right through me, vibrating through my body.
I nod, unable to form words. He doesn’t let me go and standing there, in the dark, quiet hallway I could easily get lost.
“What do you want?” Taron mumbles, as if feeling the same intensity as I am.
I tip my head up to him, finding him already looking down at me. His eyes bounce between my lips and my eyes, his body edging ever closer every second.
I should stop him. I needed to stop him, but he was gravity, pulling me down, forcing me into him and I was helpless to stop it.
The first touch of his lips is curious, not too hard, or too soft, enough to make me feel him. When I don’t pull away, he steps closer, pushing his chest into mine and tilting his head to kiss me deeper. I let him. I have no willpower to stop.
My hands run up over the ladder of his abs, my fingernails grazing each ridge and dip and committing them to memory and then they stop at his chest to ball the material of his t-shirt into my fists to hold him there.
A low growl escapes his throat and suddenly his kiss turns hot, wet, urgent, like I was oxygen and he was on his last breath.
His tongue pushes passed my lips and I could taste it. The whiskey. But it was more than just a taste. My body warmed as if he were the liquid himself, my soul ignited, and I was high.
High off of him and his whiskey kiss.
I moan into his mouth, urging him on, needing him harder against me. Taron pushes me against the wall, his thigh slipping between my legs to open them and I can feel the heat at the juncture of my thighs rubbing against him. His large hands run up my waist, caressing, feeling, until they stop at the curves of my breasts, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh. My nipples ache at how close he is to them, and my back arches to allow a little friction against my chest and his.
He only leaves my mouth to trail open mouthed kisses along my jaw and down the column of my throat, grazing his teeth along my collar bone.
“I want you,” he growls, “So fucking bad.”
“Oh God,” I groan, tipping my head back.
His thumbs finally find where my body has been screaming and the hard pebbles tingle as he presses into them, the sensation sending new waves of desire through my system. I’m practically grinding against his thigh, trying to find some sort of release, some sort of relief from the ache that he has stirred up.
It’s been simmering, I realise, and now it’s boiling over.
I’m suddenly lifted, my back sliding up the wall and my legs wrap around his hips. His cock strains through the zip of his shorts and I feel it, feel the hardness pressing into my sex. His mouth finds mine again and he shifts his hips, grinding his pelvis into me, causing me to cry out only for him to swallow down my moans.
“Are you sure?” His voice is strained, like he didn’t want to ask but knew he had to, only now, I wish he didn’t.
It all floods back, my past, the history, my secrets.
This was all wrong. All wrong.
But it felt so right.
Eighteen
Taron
I feel her stiffen in my arms, her spine going rigid, her hands balling up into tight fists against the nape of my neck. I want to keep her here, pressed against my body with her legs wrapped around my waist but she’s already pushing away, her lips thinned and sealed tight.
I let her down, keeping her close just to savour the last few touches of her body against mine but when her feet touch the floor she slides to the left, separating herself from me. I miss her already, her heat against my cock, her soft, pillowy lips on mine.
Shit.
Her taste lingers on my tongue.
“We shouldn’t,” her voice is small, a little breathless, “You’re going to be my boss and the kids, it’s just too much.”
I don’t believe that’s the reason. There something in her tone that suggests she’s hiding something.
I nod, dropping my chin to my chest to try and steady the pound of desire that’s making my heartbeat faster and my cock throb.
Now that I’d had a taste, nothing would ever be the same. She was like a fine whiskey when all you’ve been tasting is cheap knockoffs and you could never go back.
“The spare bedroom is down the hall,” I tell her, “I’ve left you with a pair of shorts and one of my t-shirts if you want to sleep in them.”
“Thank you.”
She slips passed me, her scent caressing my nose and then shuts the door behind her. I hear the click of that door all the way down to my bones.
I stand in that hallway for what appears like forever, the only light coming from a dim amber lamp in Ripley’s bedroom. The rain hammers against the house, the sound of the wind more like a howl as it sweeps through the land around the ranch.
With absolutely no idea why Penny had well and truly gotten under my skin, I head to my bedroom, closing the door quietly. Knowing she was in the bedroom just next door would mean no sleep for me tonight.
That kiss. It was incredible. She was incredible, soft where I was hard, warm, welcoming and those moans, they still echo inside my head, reminding me and my cock just how much we wanted her.
I lay on top of the blankets, listening to the rain, wondering just what she looks like dressed in my clothes. The shorts would be too big for her waist, but I had a feeling she’d look good in anything, probably even a trash bag. Or maybe she chose not to wear them and was naked in the bed. Pressing the heels of my palms into my eye sockets, I groan, unable to get the images from my head. With the blood rushing south, I have no space for any other thoughts, just Penny, pliable beneath my hands, silky soft and open.
I run my hand down the plains of my abs, wishing it were hers, dipping them beneath the waist band of my shorts to grasp the base of my dick in my fist. I slide my hand up, squeezing enough for my breath to lodge in my throat and pleasure to build in my spine. I pump one, two, three times, remembering the heat between her legs, her pebbled nipples beneath my thumb, and her scent.
At this rate, maybe it’s a good thing it stopped where it did because I’m not going to last long. My hand slides up and down my shaft, my thumb brushing over the tip and I feel my climax building, my balls tightening with the sensations. I grip harder, squeezing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth until the pleasure of my release ripples through me.
After I clean myself up, I lay staring at the ceiling, fully unsatisfied.
I wonder if she’s lying awake herself, thinking about the kiss, the intensity that burned between us. It was so very obvious that there was something between us, something hot, something ferocious. I had noticed it that first day we met down by the park and then again at the school.
My sleep is anything but restful, my dreams haunted by vibrant green eyes and honey blonde hair, the moans, and noises she made the soundtrack to my own personal torture.
I wake before the sun is fully above the horizon, the sky a clear dusty blue, any evidence of the previous days storm only from the soggy ground and puddles on the driveway. I can hear both the girls in Ripley’s bedroom, up and awake, despite the early time.
Penny’s door is still closed so I gather the girls and take them downstairs for breakfast. Completely unaware of my own internal struggle, they settle at the table, tucking into heaped bowls of cereal whilst I sip at a black coffee.
I already know Penny will escape through the door the first chance she gets but maybe I can keep her here longer, discuss the terms of her employment, really get in to the nitty gritty of it. She’ll see right through me of course, but it’s totally worth it if she just spends that extra time here in my house, here with me.
A short time later, Penny steps into the kitchen,
still dressed in my shorts and t-shirt. There’s something primal about a woman wearing a man’s clothes. Perhaps it’s because the smell of me will linger on her skin or that it’s somehow possessive, like seeing her donning my attire means she’s mine, mine to kiss, mine to worship, mine to fuck.
It triggers the memories of yesterday, causing my cock to stir eagerly and forcing me to press myself into the kitchen island to shield myself.
“Morning,” she mumbles sleepily. Her blonde hair is mussed from sleep and her eyes heavy lidded. She stifles a yawn behind her hand and then goes over to kiss Ava on her head.
“Sleep well?” I ask, hearing the strain in my voice. Shit.
“Mm,” she grumbles, “you?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “Coffee?”
“Please,” she offers me a small smile and settles herself on the stool next to Ava.
I make her the coffee and slide it towards her, meeting her eyes as I do. I hold her there, with my stare, willing her to see how good we could be together. She breaks eye contact first to gaze down into her coffee, wrapping her fingers around the mug.
Sighing, I clean up the kitchen and then without another word, head upstairs to shower and get dressed hoping she won’t leave whilst I’m busy.
When I return downstairs, she’s dressed herself, as are Ripley and Ava and she is watching the girls draw.
“We should talk,” I tell her.
She visibly swallows, “I understand if you’re going to retract the offer.”
“What?” My head snaps back, “Why would I do that?”
She looks to the girls and then gestures her head towards the family room. I nod and wait for her to walk passed me, leaning in subtly as if that’ll satisfy my cravings for the woman.
It doesn’t.
“What happened last night,” she starts, “It was inappropriate.”
“Was it?” I challenge.
“Yes,” she says quickly, “It’s not how I wanted to start this. If you’re going to be my boss, we have to keep it professional.”
How disappointing…
“Okay.”
“Really?” she gasps, “I mean, I can still come work for you?”
I nod, “Yes, should we go through the details?”
If I hadn’t felt her want last night, hadn’t heard the way her breathing increased and saw the way her heart pounded at the pulse point in her throat I would have put my desire aside and got over it. I can deal with rejection.
The thing is, I know she wants me, as much as I want her and it’s worth exploring.
She’s worth the risk.
Nineteen
Penny
I’m up before Ava the following morning, showered, dressed and I even have on a little make up, granted it’s only a thin coat of mascara and a little bit of lip gloss but it’s make-up. And it’s totally only because it’s my first day on the job and not because it’s Taron.
I haven’t been able to get that kiss out of my head.
The problem, I now know what he tastes like, what he kisses like and let me tell you, he’s a fantastic kisser, the best in fact. The type of kiss that makes your toes curl up in your shoes and your belly turn to mush.
I run my hands over the dress I’m wearing, smoothing out non-existent creases for the one hundredth time. My blonde hair is down, pushed away from my face and falling down my back.
“You look pretty,” Ava suddenly appears in the mirror besides me, rubbing sleep from her eyes and still dressed in a little pink night dress.
“Thank you, baby, you look like you had a good sleep,” I say, smiling down at her reflection next to mine. She nods her agreement, turns and shuffles back into her room to get ready for the day.
After Ava is dressed and fed, we climb into the wrangler I brought home from Taron’s last night. It’s a few years old but you wouldn’t tell, it’s silver, perfectly clean and free of any bumps or scratches and the interior is all black with leather seats. It drives like a dream literally, because this kind of car has only ever been available to me in my dreams.
I had tried to object to the car, even if it were just a loan but it came as part of the deal and if I didn’t accept he would have retracted the job offer and I am in no position to be walking away from a paying job.
I barely hear the engine as I drive towards Taron’s ranch to collect Ripley for school, the tyres on the road smooth. It’s almost unnerving. I’ve been so used to driving a beaten-up truck that rattles and moans with every mile that silence makes me uneasy.
I punch in the code at the gate and then travel slowly up the driveway, taking in the rolling fields and grazing horses. It’s still beautiful. The sun beating down on the grass, the flowers, birds singing in the trees. It’s like something out of a book or film, almost too perfect.
I see my old jeep parked next to the house, but Taron’s pick up is gone, in its place is a near identical wrangler only this one is black and not silver.
I stop the car and unstrap Ava, walking towards the house with a frown.
The door opens before I can knock and a man with hair a shade darker than mine and eyes so blue, they put the sky to shame steps out. He’s built like a tank. Literally. Wide shoulders, huge arms, beefed out chest.
Is it something in the water here? Are all the men built like Gods or is it just Taron and this guy?
He doesn’t look as easy as Taron though, his features are cold, expression dead of any emotion and he watches me like a lion would watch its prey.
“And you are?” He asks, voice low, rough.
“Uh, Penny,” I answer, “Is Taron about?”
“Something came up,” he answers simply, placing both hands on the doorframe either side of him. His eyes size me up and then narrow, “Can I help?”
“I doubt it,” it comes out before I realise what I’ve said and then I sigh.
“Uncle Rhett!” Ripley’s girly little voice shouts from behind the giant, “Let them inside!”
Uncle? Taron has a brother? I look at the man again but see no similarities between the two, nothing in the shape of the eyes or nose, not even in their colouring. Rhett was a good looking man, like I said, there’s got to be something in water but he wasn’t Taron.
“You’re Taron’s brother?” I ask.
He huffs out a laugh, but before he can answer Taron is suddenly next to me, his hand on the small of my back. The contact sends a jolt of heat straight through me and his fresh, clean smell makes my mouth water. The stubble around his mouth seems thicker, darker today and the memory of it scratching against my skin makes my cheeks warm.
“No,” Taron answers my question, “Is there a problem here?”
I look between Taron and Rhett, confused as hell. Who exactly was this guy?
“No problem,” Rhett shrugs, “just wondering why we have a pretty blonde on the doorstep.”
Taron jaw clenches, “I told you. She’s the new nanny.”
If I thought Rhett’s face was void of emotion, I was wrong because his face just dropped and his eyes widened, “Wait, what!?”
“The nanny. For Ripley.”
“Nanny?” Rhett replies and then his face morphs into a huge grin that shows off a set of pearly white teeth. “For Ripley?”
Am I missing something?
I look between Taron and Rhett and then check behind me to see if he’s talking about something else but nope, it’s just us, oh and Ava who just looks confused and a little scared.
I bring her in closer to me, rubbing her shoulder.
“Don’t,” Taron warns, shoving Rhett’s chest until he finally relents and takes a step back, “Go on in, Penny.”
“I won’t bite,” Rhett chuckles.
I ignore him and head through to the kitchen to make up Ripley’s lunch, something I offered to do as part of the job.
Behind me I hear Rhett and Taron head into the family room whilst Ripley and Ava hover around my feet, oblivious to the tension.
“That’s your nanny.” I hear Rh
ett’s voice, so much harsher than Taron’s but that southern accent just as strong.
“Rhett,” there’s a warning in Taron’s tone, one I’d ever heard before.
“Taron, that’s not a nanny. Nannies don’t look like that!”
I stifle a chuckle and shake my head.
“She’s perfect for the job.”
“It’s nannies like that, that get married men into trouble.”
My heart drops. It’s an instantaneous reaction, my scalp prickles, and my stomach churns like curdled milk. Holy shit, he’s married!
