The Nanny: A Single Dad Romance

by Aria Ford

  Moving on to her breasts, he suckled there, his hand continuing to massage her soaked pussy with a circular motion. He dipped in his finger and then licked the scent of her from his own finger, the woman juice stimulating his dick to full attention. He moved her hand to touch and to hold his dick and she sighed with relief as she felt his massive erection, knowing he would more than fill her and the mere idea made her ache deep inside with craving. She knew now that he wanted her and would accept nothing less. They had come too far, the two of them, to turn back now.

  Arran entered her with a reverence that befitted a queen. She accepted him, reaching to part her own lips with her fingers and invite him; the feeling went far deeper than just a tactile sensation. She accepted him, his love and everything he was. She had no doubt he was capable of anger, greed, and all the evils humans possessed – but she knew that with her, he would always be loving and gentle.

  She felt the quickening begin low and as it spread out, her vaginal muscles gripped him inside herself more tightly, pulsing to milk his dick like internal lips. Their souls seemed to be in time; a bow to a sweet violin. When it was over, she laid in his arms and fell back to sleep. Arran was content. For the first time in his life, he felt as if he truly did have everything the world had to offer.

  Chapter Nine

  “How long will you be gone?” she asked, trying to hold back the tears.

  “No longer than I have to.” Arran’s face was dark and troubled.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Gabrielle didn’t want to be left alone, but Arran had gotten a text from his family that required an immediate trip back home. Gabrielle’s passport hadn’t come through yet so she wouldn’t be permitted to accompany him.

  “Yes, there is. Miss me,” he requested and smiled to cheer her up. “Serra will look after you, and of course the remainder of the staff. You can sit by the pool and do your nails all day.”

  “I would rather come with you,” she whined a bit and this made his heart warm.

  “I would, too. We’ll do something special when I return,” he promised.

  The Rolls was waiting to take him to the airport. He pulled Gabrielle into his arms and gave her a hard kiss. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled away and she nodded in return, her heart singing.

  She watched the car roll down the drive and through the gates. Her heart sank and she turned to go back into the house. Putting on her suit, she took a swim in the pool, but even swimming the laps caused her to miss Arran. It was as if the air was thinner; his powerful personality was not there to add the electricity that kept everyone on their toes and gave color to an otherwise bland landscape.

  She sat in the home theatre and watched every movie she’d never seen, or so it seemed. She went to town with Serra and shopped, even stopping by the casino to say hello to Ben and see if anything had changed. The casino never changed; it had perpetual life twenty-four hours a day. It was predictable and that was the secret of its success.

  Gabrielle had never learned to cook – never having a complete kitchen or the opportunity to be at home for her meals. The chef at the compound knew all of Arran’s favorite recipes and he agreed to teach Gabrielle how to prepare them. These were all new and strange tastes for her to get used to. On one hand, it was exciting to learn about his world and on the other hand, if frightened her. She didn’t want to leave the U.S. and live anywhere else. She knew he was a powerful man in his country and had serious responsibilities. His family was deeply embedded in the economy there and he was in charge of all of that. She wasn’t sure what the future held for her, but she hoped that no matter how much they might travel to conduct his business, that they would always come home to the U.S.

  There was only silence from Arran and this concerned her. She knew he’d arrived safely; bad news always finds wings. It was the idea that she couldn’t just reach out and talk to him that bothered her the most.

  As the days passed, Gabrielle grew listless and bored. She bought books on the world’s religions and cultures and studied these, hoping to get closer to Arran. She even took up painting watercolors, setting up her easel and paints by the pool where the light was unparalleled. Although her talent was limited, there was a sense of peace and creativity in what she did.

  She experimented with the grand piano in the sitting room. At one point in her childhood she’d lived with a family whose mother was a piano teacher. Students came and went throughout the day and although the woman never offered to teach Gabrielle, she was smart enough to listen and often sneaked in to practice what she’d heard when the house was empty.

  I have a life of half-filled dreams, she realized. This bothered her considerably. She badly wanted roots – family, children, and a sense of belonging to someone. It was an elusive goal, however, even with Arran. He belonged somewhere she could not, and did not want to go.

  She was painting by the pool one afternoon when Serra came out to stand next to her, waiting to be recognized.

  “Did you need something, Serra?” she asked.

  “A phone call has come through. It was not directly from Sheikh Muhalla, but he sent a message to be relayed to you. I’ve written it here for you,” she said, handing Gabrielle a piece of paper.

  Gabrielle accepted the note, wondering why in this age of technology, Arran hadn’t called or texted or sent an email. Now, he was sending a message by way of other people and it was delivered on a slip of paper.

  Then she understood.

  Sheikh Muhalla has wed. Coming home.

  Gabrielle grew woozy and slid onto a patio chair. Arran had married someone else? How could this happen? Was this the emergency he had to return so quickly to resolve? Why did he profess his love for her before he left? Did he think she would remain his mistress on the side while his wife took her place with him at formal functions? Was that how it worked?

  Her heart was breaking and her mind was seething with rage at being lied to and used, once again. She had finally decided to open herself to a bit of trust and this was her reward? To be used and promised to be taken care of and then dumped into the desert? She didn’t even have a job now. There was no way Ben would take her back at the Bellagio. Surely he’d replaced her by now, and there was no way she would subject herself to the humiliation of working for the man who had broken her heart.

  She didn’t know when Arran was due in, but she certainly wasn’t going to be on hand when he and his new wife arrived. She went into her bedroom and pulled out a case, angrily pitting in the clothes she’d come with. She’d telephoned a taxi and told it to wait outside the compound gates. She met it there, bag in hand and a very upset Serra waving goodbye. Gabrielle felt badly for leaving Serra in a precarious position, but there was nothing to be done about it. It was Arran’s treacherous doing – not her own.

  The only thing Gabrielle kept from Arran was the salary he’d paid her. She had no option to do otherwise as there was no paycheck waiting for her at the Bellagio, they’d gotten rid of her old car and her apartment was rented out to someone else. Once she got back on her feet, she’d send the money back.

  The taxi dropped her in at the train station where she put her luggage in a locker and went in search of a car dealership. She hated to be walking in, it made her a target, but there was nothing else she could do. Used cars were plentiful in a town where tourists were caught up in the gambling flu.

  She bought a mini-van, thinking she could sleep in it if she needed to. She picked up her bag from the station and then headed east out of town. She couldn’t get far enough away from Vegas.

  Chapter Ten

  Gabrielle kept driving until she was hopelessly lost. This suited her perfectly and she pulled into a motel and took a room. LaPorte was a small town in Kentucky; the kind with a courthouse that sat in the town square. It was surrounded by benches holding old men without teeth telling war stories. There was an unassuming peace that permeated the atmosphere and it felt so far different from the Vegas lights that at last Gabrielle
began to relax.

  She’d spent over two thousand miles hating Arran but despite that, she knew she was still in love with him. Rationale told her that the devastation stemmed from his betrayal – no matter the cause, he owed it to her to stay in touch. Most of all, he owed it to her to mention that he was marrying.

  She discovered, much to her chagrin, that much of Kentucky was dry and there were no bars where she could waitress locally. She drove to the nearby larger city of Louisville where there were all kinds of clubs and began applying for positions. Her résumé including the Bellagio went a long way toward getting her interviews and she finally accepted a position at the cocktail lounge at the Hyatt. Her new boss was Margie Carr, a woman of mysterious descent who smiled often and worked very quickly. She and Gabrielle hit it off immediately and it wasn’t long before Gabrielle fell into the familiar rhythm of a server’s life.

  With her first paycheck, she found an apartment in town in a very modest, working man’s neighborhood. Her neighbors were young parents and some seniors for the most part, although there were a few misfits from society who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. The building had two stories and a grassless, miniscule front yard with only on-street parking. Gabrielle was glad she’d not bought an expensive vehicle; the temptation to thieves in the area would have been too great. She felt at home here, despite the shady environment. These were her kind of people – they may not have owned much in the way of possessions, but there was an unspoken sense of integrity. If you made a bad name for yourself in this world, there was nowhere else for you to go.

  Gabrielle had a tiny balcony, barely large enough for a folding chair and a single Gerber daisy in a pot. She sat there, drinking orange juice and marveling how much her life had changed yet again. She had gotten rid of the cell phone that Arran had provided and bought an untraceable model with mobile minutes. That suited her purposes quite well. This life was so much simpler… or so she tried to convince herself. She made no plans for the future, but had decided that for the moment, she would let life come to her unscripted.

  Margie had a large family she supported. Her husband had been killed by a drunk driver and this made her all the more wary of how she served her customers. She lived in a double-wide mobile home on the far west end and one Sunday she had invited Gabrielle for dinner.

  Gabrielle arrived with a tray of fresh fruit in hand and found Margie’s heart to be big, but her house, not so much. Her children were all under the age of fifteen and they ran in and out, fighting and screaming at one another. When she opened the lid of the fruit she’d brought, they set upon it like locusts. She had the feeling that Margie couldn’t afford such fresh foods for her family and this made Gabrielle very sad. Was this what her own future looked like now?

  Gabrielle headed home that night counting her blessings. She had no idea what lay ahead.

  * * *

  It was Friday night and there was a huge convention in town. The cocktail lounge had seen a steady flow of primarily men since noon. There were essentially two kinds: those who came with their wives and drank to forget that fact and those who came without their wives and were trying to find a lady for the night. Often the loner left the bar with someone’s wife in tow. It was very entertaining to watch the soap opera of partners on a convention weekend. For two precious days people lost their inhibitions and behaved like depraved animals. By Sunday night they were traipsing out of the lobby, wet cloths over their foreheads, dragging suitcases and dressed in whatever rumpled clothing they rescued from the room floor. She got more than her share of proposals. People seemed to think that hotel employees were there for whatever pleasure the guest wanted; no holds barred. She systematically smiled and walked away.

  One night there had been a particularly aggressive guest. He was dark-haired and dark-eyed. She thought she saw Arran in his face. She had a drink with him on her break and although he wanted more, the reality sunk in and she left the table in tears.

  On this particular night there were no dark-eyed strangers to tug at her heart. She went about her work routinely, pocketing healthy tips throughout the evening. She was really tired by last call and there was still a considerable mess in the lounge to clean up. It was well after three in the morning before she left to go home.

  Traipsing the three flights up to her apartment, she stumbled from being so tired. Gabrielle struggled with fitting the key in the lock and once she got inside, she leaned against the door with relief, reaching to flip on the light. All at once she felt extremely nauseated and ran for the bathroom. There was little relief and it was several hours before she fell asleep. The next afternoon she showed up for work looking a bit haggard. Margie noticed immediately and asked if something was wrong.

  Gabrielle nodded. “I’m pregnant.”

  Chapter Eleven

  She’d known it since she’d missed her menses. She wanted to believe that the home tests weren’t reliable and was too afraid to get a doctor to confirm it. Now, there was no choice. She was going to have Arran’s baby.

  There was no question about keeping it; she would never harm a baby. The only question that remained was whether she would stay where she was or journey back to Vegas and ask Arran to contribute to his child’s welfare. She knew she could take care of the baby herself on her small salary, but Arran had so much. It was only fair that his child have the advantage of parenthood. This was a sensitive spot with her. She had grown up without parents and did not want anything but a complete set for her child; even if they weren’t married and didn’t live together.

  Her fear, however, was that Arran had too much. What if he decided he wanted custody of the child? Would he be able to take it away and perhaps even out of the States? It was such a huge risk. She decided to stay status quo and to look for a better job that would allow her to be at home nights with the child. She wouldn’t be the first single mother to raise a child, that much was sure.

  She began to scour the papers for jobs. She couldn’t wait too long. No one would want to hire a pregnant single woman and at the same time, she couldn’t work in the cocktail lounge with a protruding tummy. It was terribly discouraging. She confided in Margie about her problem.

  “You’re fired,” Margie said.

  “What?”

  Margie grinned. “If I fire you, you can collect unemployment and then you can be home until after the baby is born.”

  “With no insurance.”

  Maggie grimaced. “Good point.”

  “So, what do I do?”

  “Pray, darlin’, you just gotta pray.”

  “Pray,” Gabrielle mumbled to herself. I wish it was that easy.

  “Just keep busy. Something will turn up, you wait and see,” Margie said with confidence.

  Gabrielle nodded.

  Margie ventured a question. “You know who the father is, I take it?”

  “Oh, yes. There’s no doubt of that.”

  “And…”

  “And, he recently got married.”

  “Oh.” Margie’s face fell.

  Gabrielle smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll get through this.” She patted Margie’s hand and headed for a new table of customers.

  Her stomach was rocky all evening and twice she had to make a run for the ladies’ room. She was utterly miserable and had no plan to follow. That made it all the harder. Things were really slow as it drew late and Margie waved her over. “Why don’t you take off. I can handle anyone who shows up from here on out. The place is empty.”

  Gabrielle was extremely grateful for the reprieve and waved goodnight as she left. It had rained earlier and she shivered a bit in the cooler breeze. She was looking forward to a soft bed and warm blankets.

  Gabrielle unlocked the door to her apartment and bumped it open with her hip. She leaned against it in relief and was startled when a light flipped on in the living room.

  Arran sat before her.

  Her mouth fell open with fear and surprise at once. As soon as she recognized his face, her first instinct was
to run to him, but she held back. He no longer belonged to her, but to another. She felt her stomach turn and fought the impulse to run for the bathroom. She stood her ground and swallowed hard.

  “How did you find me?” she asked him in a level voice. She could feel the tears surfacing and wanted to run to his arms and have him take care of all that was wrong.

  “You really need to ask?” he said in a very soft voice. It almost gave Gabrielle chills. “I know you tried to hide, but when you began getting paychecks, well…” he let the sentence go unfinished.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Why did you leave?” His eyes stared at her intensely.

  “Why did I leave? You must be kidding.”

  “No, Gabrielle, I assure you, I am not kidding.”

  “You went radio silent and then when you finally bother to send me a message, it’s to say that you’d gotten married. Why on earth would you think I would stick around?”

  Gabrielle couldn’t dismiss the rolling tummy a moment longer and ran for the bathroom. When she came out, she had a wet washcloth on her forehead and headed for her bedroom to lie down. Arran could do as he pleased. As it was, he walked around the corner and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

  Gabrielle said nothing. She simply held the cloth over her forehead and eyes and tried to breathe deeply.

  She felt his hand on her leg and pulled it away as though his touch burned. “Don’t,” she barked at him.