“Easier said than done.”
“Fuck it and be done with it.”
“Okay.”
“Uh-huh… New nanny.” He grins up at me. “Very nice. Good… ‘Dickhead.’ Ach! Come on. You’re very, very hard on yourself—much too hard on yourself, boy. You worry about your kids?”
“Of course I do.”
“Let me tell you—bein’ a parent, jes’ like bein’ human, is all about makin’ mistakes. Huge ones, little ones. I once forgot my children in the car at the mall for two hours. But guess what? They were fine. They didn’t realize I’d gone until the battery died on their—what do ya call it—the wee game thing. The old ones.”
“Game Boy.”
“Aye. You know when kids worry? When they see their parents worry.” He slaps the pages of my sleep diary. “So…let me get this straight… See if I can read between the lines here… New nanny at home.” He gives me the thumbs up. “Relief. The right kind of exercise.” He winks at me. “Everything’s grand. Sleep is good.”
“Basically, yes.”
“Fuck things up with the new nanny?” He points his thumbs down. “Everything goes to shit. Sleep’s shit. Mood’s shit.”
“In a nutshell, sure.”
“So. Don’t fuck things up with the new nanny.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“She’s my best friend’s little sister.”
“And?”
“And she’s my kids’ nanny now. They love her. If I screw things up with her, I might screw things up for them too. I might screw things up with my friend.”
He stares at me for a few seconds. “Forgot to check somethin’. Hang on.” He reaches over and sticks his hand under my balls. I’m wearing jeans and he is a doctor, but what the fuck? “Whaddya know. Ya still got ‘em.” He yanks his hand away. “Had me worried there for a minute. Anythin’ might screw everythin’ up. Live your life. You only get this one. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Set things straight with the nanny and be done with it.”
“That’s it? That’s your professional medical opinion?”
“Whatever works, lad. For me—if I might share a wee bit of my own life with you.” He leans forward, lowering his voice.
I nod, warily, as I cross my legs in a totally manly way so he doesn’t try to grab my nut sac again.
“I been married to the same woman for twenty-five years, God bless her soul, and whenever I’m tossin’ and turnin’ in bed, keepin’ her up at night…she’ll jes’ reach over and give me a nice slow tug on the old knob. Nothin’ too excitin’ you understand, jes’ a nice slow tug to get me off and we’re done. Simple as that. A bonnie lass and a good handy and you’re all set to conquer sleep and the world… Now…” He claps his hands together. “When’s the next Shane Miller picture comin’ to a theater near me?”
“I’ve got a big Melissa McCarthy comedy coming out in a couple of months and then a little independent film coming out hopefully not long after that.”
“Nothin’ too artsy-fartsy, I hope.”
“Not at all. I’m really excited about it.” Everyone’s a critic.
“Excellent. Off ya go.”
Yeah.
I still don’t know if Dr. Gavin Shaw is a good physician or not, but off I go.
When I get to my car, I find myself initiating a call that I hadn’t planned to make before my doctor’s appointment, but now it seems like the only call to make.
* * *
“Hey, superstar.” Nico looks surprised to see that I made it to the restaurant before he did, and rightly so. It’s happened maybe once before since I moved to the Palisades.
We bro-hug. His leather jacket has the vague scent of bars and some kind of incense and the perfume of dozens of women. I’m so much more aware of smells now because of Willa. In my peripheral vision, I can see the hostess and a couple of waitresses whispering to each other and giggling about us. I’m hoping that this kind of recognition and attention, if not our thirteen-year friendship, is what will prevent Nico from flipping our table at some point during brunch. But I’m also ready for anything, now that I’ve made a decision.
We shoot the shit and order an early lunch and a beer for each of us, catching up. I ask him about his Grammie; he asks about my mom. The usual. Until finally, he asks, “How’s Willa working out for you?”
“Really well. The twins love her. She’s shockingly great with them. And she’s just nice to have around.”
“Good.” He watches me while taking a pull on his beer.
There’s a long, strange silence that can only be filled with a sigh and four words: “I’m falling for Willa.”
He lowers the bottle from his mouth. “What?”
“I really like your sister. A lot. I’m falling in love with her.”
He slams the beer bottle on the table. “What?”
“How many times do you want me to say it?”
He continues to stare at me, incredulous. “Zero. What? Since when?”
“Since I met her, I guess. At Erewhon, I mean. Maybe since the first time, in some weird way, I don’t know.”
“Willa?”
“Your sister, Willa, yes. Are you clear on who we’re talking about now?”
I watch his hands, which are balling up into fists while he processes this. He shakes his head and raises one hand to his temple. “I don’t even… It never even… I don’t know why it didn’t… I didn’t think she was your type.”
“She wasn’t. I mean. She isn’t a type. She’s amazing.”
Nico studies my face, and I don’t know what kind of expression I have, but it’s obviously telling him what he doesn’t want to hear. He covers his eyes. “You had sex with my sister.” He groans. “I’ve never met one of her guys before. I can’t. Ugh. Why would you do that?”
I’m arching an eyebrow at him when he finally manages to look at me again.
“Don’t answer that. I feel sick.”
“Do you really?”
“I don’t know. I know I’m being an immature little shit, but this is weird.”
“If you’re pissed off, I get it. I just can’t change how I feel about her. I tried. Anyway, she’s pissed at me. I get that too. But I wanted to tell you, before I…try to make it work with her.”
“Why is she pissed at you?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Not really.”
“She basically gave me an ultimatum.”
“She did? That doesn’t sound like her.”
“Not in a shitty, manipulative way. She just told me what she wants. She’s cool. She’s really, really cool.”
“Wow, you really like her, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Does Margo know?”
“No. Fuck, no.”
“Dude.”
“I know. I mean. I don’t know—Margo likes her too, I think. I can’t even think about that yet. I just know what I want. I want Willa. And I want you to be okay with that.”
“What’ll you do if I’m not okay with it?”
I shrug. “Wait for you to come to your fucking senses but do what I’m gonna do anyway.”
He laughs. “Fair enough.” He holds his hand out across the table for me to shake. “You got balls. Thanks for telling me. Treat her right.”
“It’s all I want to do.”
“Just how serious are you? You better not be fooling around—if this is just a fling to you…”
“It’s not. I mean, it’s early days. But I don’t know if I could ever get enough of her.”
“Oh God. She kissed your fucking hand.” He covers his face, shaking from laughter. “I just remembered that.”
I can’t stop smiling, now that I’m thinking about her out in the open. “She’s full of surprises.”
He throws his head back. “Fuck, this sucks ass. Part of me wants to high-five you for banging the nanny, and part of me wants to punch you in the balls for banging my sis
ter.”
“I feel your pain.”
“Are you gonna tell the kids?”
“Not for a while. I don’t even know what there is to tell at this point, other than ‘Daddy’s hot for Willa so if you hear noises when we’re in a room together, don’t come in.’”
He groans again.
“The thing is, man, I realized I’ve had insomnia off and on ever since I decided to marry Margo. I don’t regret it, and obviously I’m glad everything happened the way it did because of the kids, but…on some level I was afraid I was making a mistake. Marrying Margo. And then worrying that because of the way my life was going that I’d never have the real thing with a woman. But when Willa’s around…”
“You can sleep at night?”
“I can sleep whenever I want to.”
I would never in a million years expect Nico to cry or even tear up unless he had to for a scene, but his face is contorting with some kind of emotional intensity that I’ve never seen from him before. He’s holding his breath, and when he finally exhales, he punches his chest a couple of times. “That’s some lyric-worthy shit, my friend.”
“Christ, you aren’t going to write a song about us, are you?”
“I gotta go where the muse takes me.”
“Well, then, I’m happy if this inspires yet another ballad that will get you ridiculous amounts of pussy and royalties for years to come.”
He holds up his beer bottle to clink with mine. “To family and friends and pussy and royalties and sleeping whenever you want to.”
“And having balls.”
“And having massive, good guy balls…that my sister has probably had her hands on—fuck.”
“We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”
“I’d be cool with never talking about this again.”
“My balls, or me and Willa?”
“Let’s just never refer to your balls and Willa in the same sentence ever again.”
“Done.”
And that is why Nico Todd is my best friend.
And also why I will secretly be thinking about Willa’s hands on my balls for the next hour.
18
Willa
By the time I’ve finished lunch, I’m wondering where the fuck Shane Miller is. It’s odd that I haven’t heard from him since he left. Not that I expect him to check in and tell me that my tits look great every half an hour, but maybe let the nanny know where you are and when you’ll be home so she can tell your kids or their teachers if there’s an emergency? Or maybe just let her know where you are and when you’ll be home because your big pretty penis was inside her a couple of days ago and that’s just how you maintain a good employer-employee relationship. And now a sickening feeling settles in my stomach. I’m imagining the possible reasons why he wouldn’t want me to know where he is or who he’s with. He could be busy knocking up some other actress he will eventually marry. It’s happened before! It could very well happen again.
Which is why I need to stand my ground and keep my emotional distance unless he decides to nut up and own his attraction to me.
Realizing I haven’t showered yet today, I go to my room to disrobe.
I tell myself to stop thinking about Shane as soon as the warm water cascades down onto my head. I wash my hair with shampoo and conditioner that I’ve added drops of my new fragrance to. It’s a heavenly scent, not overpowering. And it reminds me of Shane. I pour the shower gel that I added my new fragrance to into the palm of my hand and rub it all over my upper body. I can no longer touch myself without thinking about Shane Miller and remembering what it was like to have his hands on me, inside me…
Fuck it, I’m going to hate-finger-fuck myself while thinking about him, and then I won’t think about him for the rest of the fucking afternoon.
Before my hands venture between my legs, I hear three firm knocks on the bathroom door. I freeze for a moment, but I know in my heart and in my vulva who it is. Turning to see the door open a crack, I hear Shane’s voice. “It’s me. Are you decent?”
I have to clear my throat to find my voice. “Not even a little bit.”
The door opens all the way, and Shane steps into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. “Good. If you want me to leave, tell me now,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt.
I say nothing as I push open the glass shower door and then step back to let the water run down my back. My wet, soaped-up naked body is completely exposed to him again. I absentmindedly touch the little gold heart pendant at my neck, watching this man remove his clothes. He must have taken a special acting class on how to undress for the camera, and I honestly kind of wish I had a camera with me now so I could record this. His hungry eyes are fixed on me the entire time.
The expression on his face is so serious and seriously fuckable when he says, “Who’s got two kids, an erection, and just told your brother he’s falling for you?” He lets his boxer briefs fall to the floor and then points to himself with his thumbs. “This naked guy.”
I let go of my necklace and cover my mouth. The rims of my eyes are stinging. I’m so happy I could cry. “Really? You talked to Nico?”
He steps into the shower and pulls the door shut, staring down at my breasts. “You are so fucking beautiful. I just took him to lunch and told him.”
“Oh my God, Shane.” I hold his face and kiss it all over, my erect nipples and this naked guy’s beautiful penis the only thing standing between us now. “How’d he take it?”
“Surprisingly well. Eventually.” Shane’s hands slide up and down my hips and waist. He kisses my neck. Along my jaw. Across my shoulder. “He’ll probably call you later. He told me to treat you right.” He gives both of my ass cheeks a squeeze.
“Oh! I’m quite pleased with how you’re treating me so far.”
He kisses my mouth, so deeply and urgently that I nearly forget how to breathe.
When he finally pulls away to run his fingers through my hair, I gasp for air and say, “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about my brother when we’re both naked.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“But that reminds me—I talked to my Grammie this morning. She says ‘hi.’”
“Be sure to tell me how she’s doing at some point in the near future, when I don’t have a hard-on.”
“If I were you,” I say, my hand slipping down to his very hard cock, “I wouldn’t plan on many points in the near future when you won’t have a hard-on.”
He groans. “I hope you have a simple scientific way of explaining that to five-year-olds.”
“I know exactly what to say to them. ‘Your daddy has a present for me in his pants. Watch Netflix in here while we go in the other room for ten minutes so he can give it to me.’”
“You are—by far—the best nanny anyone has ever had.” He turns me around to face the wall, moves my hair to one side, and buries his face in my neck. “What smells so fucking incredible?”
I grin. “It’s us.”
His dick is pressed up between my ass cheeks, his hands roaming the curves of my hips and up to cup my breasts and tease my nipples. “Your body,” he moans. “This ass. This ass is driving me crazy. Can I buy you dinner later?” His tone is playful, but that erection means business.
“You’ll have to buy me dinner first,” I say, pushing back into him and rolling my hips until he makes a thunderous rumbling sound in his throat and digs his fingernails into my flesh.
Then I turn to face him and push him back against the other tiled wall.
There is only one thing I want right now, oddly enough, and it is basically the opposite of hate-finger-fucking myself.
While kissing and nibbling on his lower lip, I say, “I want you to fist my hair and come in my mouth.”
“Jesus. Willa.”
And then I slowly lower myself to my knees, kissing a wet trail down his torso while watching his head tilt back, his jaw tighten, his Adam’s apple bob up and down.
He finally stops talking.
I f
eel all ten of his fingers in my hair.
And a couple of minutes later, I get exactly what I want.
19
Shane
The day isn’t anywhere near over yet, and already I’ve had a doctor grab my nuts, straightened some important shit out with my best friend, and came in Willa’s dirty, hot, eager, young mouth.
I am crushing Monday, and it’s only going to get better because right now Willa’s still naked and damp and straddling me on one of the armchairs in the family room.
This really says “home” to me.
I’ve watched a hundred family friendly movies and shows from this armchair, but not one of them was as entertaining, thrilling, or heartwarming as what’s playing out on my lap right now. Willa’s wet pussy is hovering an inch above my very happy cock, her tits pushed up together between her elbows while she’s examining the palms of my hands. Things have really progressed since the last time she read my palm.
“Oh wow, I didn’t notice this the first time,” she says, tracing her fingertip up from my wrist to a spot below my index finger, and just that slightest touch is enough to make me want to come like a rocket and sing her a love song—and I hate to sing. “You have a very smooth and prominent but not overly developed Mount of Venus,” she explains.
“Thank you. So do you.”
She laughs and bites her lower lip. “I actually do. But your thumb…” She lightly traces her fingertip up from the bottom of my thumb to the tip of it, and fuuuuck it does things to me in all sorts of places in all kinds of ways. “Your thumb is very well formed. Smooth and square-tipped. The tip of your thumb is called the Will phalange.”
Now it’s my turn to bite my lower lip to keep myself from making a joke.
“This tells me that your willpower is strong, and you have good judgement. The second phalange of your thumb, here”—she caresses the lower part of my thumb—“is long, which shows you’re clever and you take the lead in social situations. In relation to your Head Line, I can see just from looking at your palm that you’re very level-headed and good at keeping strong desires in check.”
Sleeper Page 14
