by SC Daiko
I wince as another contraction squeezes my belly, and glance at my watch, timing its length. Nearly a minute’s duration, and the last one was four minutes ago. I pick up my phone and scroll for Aiden’s number. He’s on baby watch this afternoon, and answers immediately. “Time to go to the hospital and meet our daughter,” I say with a smile.
Aiden
Seventeen hours after Liam and I raced her here in the Range Rover, Samantha is lying in her hospital bed with baby Charlotte in her arms. We’ve named her after Liam’s and my mother, with Rhiannon’s blessing. She said the child would be both hers and Mum’s granddaughter, and it was a privilege to share her with the woman who’d been Michael’s first love.
Liam and I sit on each side of Samantha, and stare in wonder at our daughter. She’s beautiful, no other word can describe her. Dark eyelashes fan her rounded cheeks as she sleeps. Her tiny mouth already has a bratty look to it, though. She’ll be a handful just like her mother, I expect. Except she won’t suffer like her mother did. No way. We’ll protect her and do everything we can to keep her from harm. Just like we do with our wife.
I lean in to Samantha and plant a kiss on her forehead. “So proud of you, sweetheart.”
“Me too,” Liam adds. “We’re a family now. I couldn’t be happier.”
“I love you so much,” she says, lifting her gaze and fixing it firmly on ours. “Love conquered fear in my life.” She bends and kisses Charlotte’s soft head. “And love has brought me the greatest gift I could ever have hoped for. My own little brat.”
The End
Acknowledgments
I loved writing this book so much. It took me back to a time when I was a horse-mad young adult and rode every weekend. It was how hubs and I got together, through our shared enjoyment of the sport.
I’d like to thank all the people who helped me with Samantha, Liam and Aiden’s story.
First and foremost, Trenda Lundin, my amazing content editor. You took my early drafts and guided me on polishing them into a book I hope will grab readers in all their feels. I love how you challenge me, and I love YOU, xxx
Thank you, Letitia Hassar of RBA. When I said I wanted this cover to be pink, I never expected the gorgeous colours and the beautiful design. It’s awesome. I love your work and can’t wait to see what you come up with for our next project. Love you, xxx
My PAs, Helena and Aurelie. You’re always there for me, and I really appreciate everything you do. From beta reading, to managing my Facebook readers group, to pimping, to networking, to organising events, creating Google docs, sending out ARCs, the list is endless. You free up my time so I can write, and I’m so grateful. Love you both, xxx
Fiona and Joy, my alpha readers. You’re always spot-on with your observations. I have you, Fiona, to thank for correcting any slip-ups I made with the horsey bits, and you, Joy, with the medical background. Love you both, too, xxx
Michelle, my beta-reader extraordinaire. Your eagle-eye for typos, and your comments on my manuscript, have been invaluable. Thank for inspiring me to write about hot twins, and for the scene where Sam has to tell the difference between them. Love you lots, xxx
Lesley, thank you for managing my street team. You’re a star! I love you, and all the amazing people who support me… from the reviewers, to the bloggers, to the promoters, to the members of Courtesans, my Facebook group. I’m humbled by your enthusiasm. Thank you, xxx
My awesome author friends, I love each and every one of you and thank you from the heart for your encouragement, support, advice, and friendliness. Mwah xxx
Last, but not least, Victor, my hubs. Thank you for your love and patience when I’m buried deep in my writing cave. I couldn’t do this without you. Love you most of all, xxx
About the Author
SC Daiko, aka Siobhan (pronounced Shivon) is a romance junkie who loves writing about strong heroines and hot alpha males. Her stories are sexy and emotional reads. Originally from the UK, she now lives in Italy with her husband and two cats. Nothing makes her happier than connecting with readers and fellow authors.
Find Siobhan at:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SCDaikoAuthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/S_C_Daiko
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/scdaiko/?hl=en
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15233309.S_C_Daiko
Amazon http://viewauthor.at/SCDaiko
Blog https://scdaiko.com/
Facebook group https://www.facebook.com/groups/SiobhanCourtesan/
Sign up for her newsletter http://eepurl.com/cS11mf You will be given the chance to download “Two: The Prequel to Three” for free. There are giveaways and freebies in every email. Siobhan won’t spam your inbox as she sends out one newsletter per week, max.
Also By SC Daiko
Two Three Four: The complete Trilogy
Game On
Their Virgin Nanny
Their Virgin Nanny
1
Sample Chapter
GABE
The door to the study swings open, and I look up from my laptop as Luke explodes into the room. I flash him a smile, my gaze roving over his messed-up dark-blonde hair, unshaven stubble and broad shoulders. He bounds up to my desk. “Any luck?”
“I was just about to check,” I say, shifting position on my chair to ease the sudden tingle in my balls. I could take him here and now, bend him over and fuck his tight little asshole until he shoots his load into my waiting hands… but there isn’t time.
He stands behind me and peers over my shoulder as I scan the list of candidates emailed to me by the agency. I breathe in his fresh, clean, ocean-breeze scent. “I’ll print it off so we can have a look after dinner,” I say, clicking on the appropriate icon.
I swivel around to face him while the printer whirs. I loop my arms around his waist. “I’m hard for you,” I groan, my voice deep and throaty.
“You’re always hard for me,” he chuckles.
“And you’re not for me?”
“What do you think?” He grabs my hand and holds it against his rigid cock; my own dick twitches in response.
“Gabe? Luke?” a voice echoes. It’s Abi with the boys. She works a twelve-hour shift, seven am to seven pm Mondays to Fridays. Abi rooms on the top floor of our Kensington townhouse, and has been our nanny since Matty was born just over three years ago. Inconspicuous and efficient, she’s a chubby girl with mousey-brown hair and a quiet manner. Shame she’s leaving to get married and move to Scotland; it will be bloody difficult to replace her.
Luke springs back from me as she comes into the room, and his handsome face breaks into a smile that would light up the universe. He holds out his arms and Matty launches himself into them. Abi hands me Jack; I get to my feet and swing him over my head, unleashing a peel of giggles from my one-year-old son.
“They’ve had their supper,” she announces in her no-nonsense voice. “Jack’s bedtime bottle is ready in the nursery.” She runs her hands down her ample hips. “And their bath is running. So, if that’s all, I’ll go up to my room. We’ve had a busy day and I’m shattered.”
“Yes, yes, off you go,” I tell her. “We’ll take over now.”
It’s our usual routine, and I’m comfortable with it. After we’ve bathed the boys and dressed them in their onesies, Matty begs me for a bedtime story. Biologically he’s Luke’s son, and the resemblance is uncanny. We used the same surrogate for both our boys, tossing a coin to choose who would go first. Luke won, and we waited until Matthew was eighteen months before I had my ‘turn’ to fill the turkey baster.
Jack lies relaxed in Luke’s arms, sucking greedily at his bottle. His dark eyelashes fan his rounded cheeks; he opens his baby-blue eyes, locking them with Luke’s. The trust gets to me every time… and the unconditional love. Some people criticized Luke and me for having kids with no mother in the picture, but I grew up without a mama and it didn’t do me any harm. In any case, the boys’ biological mother, Sharon, visits once a w
eek. It was one of her conditions for surrogacy.
“Papa,” Matty whines when I finish reading him We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, “can you read me another story?”
“Not tonight, son.” I make a point of glancing at my watch. “It’s bedtime already.”
His lower lip trembles, but he takes in a breath and stills it. “Tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
Jack has fallen asleep already; Luke lifts him onto his shoulder and carries him across the room to his crib. After I’ve settled Matty in his bed, tucking him in with his teddies and comfort blanket, we both kiss him then switch on the nightlight and leave the door ajar, just the way he likes it… even though we’ll hear him call out via the monitor if he needs us.
Down in the kitchen, at the lower garden level, Luke starts chopping onions to make a pasta sauce, and I pull the cork from a bottle of Chianti. Our house is tall and narrow, five floors, paid for by our blood, sweat and tears… me as senior partner in a law firm, and Luke from his work as a special effects artist in the post-production film industry.
It’s a warm July evening, so I open the patio doors. The sounds of London reverberate in the air… planes heading towards Heathrow, police car sirens, traffic, all interspersed with evening birdsong. At this time of the year, it doesn’t get dark until ten pm. I set the table and pour us both a glass of wine. Oreo, our black and white neutered tom-cat, winds his way between my legs, purring; I smooth his silky fur and get a head butt in return.
Luke appears with two bowls of spaghetti Bolognese; we dive in and eat hungrily in companionable silence. Abi always eats with the boys, and I suspect she has a collection of snacks up in her room to keep her going. Thinking about her gives me a prickle of worry. What if we can’t find a suitable replacement?
“Where’s that list of applicants?” Luke asks, as if he’s read my mind.
“I left it in the study,” I say, clearing our plates and then filling Oreo’s bowl with dry cat food. “I’ll go get it.”
Within minutes, I return and we scan the details of five different girls. There’s one that catches my eye immediately. Twenty-two years old, the same age as Abi when she started with us. One year’s experience with an American family in Notting Hill. They’re returning to the States, which is why she’s looking for a new job. I hand the information to Luke. “This girl. Eleri Thomas. I like the look of her. She’s been caring for twin boys aged eighteen months. And she likes cats.”
He stares at the girl’s picture, and his smile shows the dimples at the corners of his mouth. “She looks nice... like sugar and spice.”
I grab the page back from him. Eleri’s face is pale, her dark wavy hair shoulder-length. She’s wearing a plain white blouse and is looking directly at the camera. Not at all like the sort of girl Luke and I have invited into our bed from time to time. Which is good. We deliberately chose Abi as she wouldn’t tempt us. Although we’re committed to each other one hundred percent, Luke and I like to spice up our sex lives by sharing a willing woman and fucking her together. We certainly wouldn’t want to fuck our nanny; apart from the ethics it would make life far too complicated.
Thinking about sex has made me feel aroused. I put the girl’s details down on the kitchen counter. “I’ll email the agency tomorrow,” I say, giving Luke a needy look. “Let’s go to bed.”
LUKE
I close the patio doors and check the cat-flap so Oreo can get in and out. He’s a good-natured beast, accepting of Matty carrying him around like a cuddly toy, but he needs his independence at night. Thank fuck we live in a quiet street and don’t need to worry too much about him ending up under a car.
Gabe has already undressed before I step into our bedroom. I shoot a look at his perfect body: abs and pecs toned from daily workouts. Unlike my own shaggy dark-blonde hair, Gabe’s is almost black and neatly cropped. He never sports more than a day’s worth of stubble, whereas I avoid my bastard razor like I avoid going to the fucking dentist. His dark-blue eyes lock with my greens, and his smile is full of lust.
We kiss, our lips meshing, his tongue seeking mine and drawing it into his hot mouth. He pushes down on my shoulders, and I know what he wants. His cock is iron-hard and straining against me. I slither down his body until I’m on my knees. Fuck, his dick is beautiful… thick, veined and ready for me.
He buckles his legs and I suck him into my mouth, my own pierced cock throbbing as I taste his salty fluid. I sweep my tongue across his tip, sinking more deeply over him, pressing firmly against the underside.
He groans and slides his hands into my hair, tilting his hips and pushing more of his thickness into my mouth. I open for him and take what he gives me. He begins to thrust deep and steady, the head of his dick grinding against the back of my throat, his balls bumping against my chin.
He withdraws and I inhale a sharp breath, ready to suck him off again. But he pulls me up his body and kisses me instead. “Take off your clothes, tiger. I want you naked.”
“Yes, sir,” I deadpan, stepping out of my jeans and boxers.
He lifts off my t-shirt and pulls me against him. We kiss again, our tongues sliding together, our cocks rigid. I reach down to fist him, and his dick twitches in my hand as he releases a moan. He tugs at my shaft, jerking and pulling and stretching my length. I release him with a gasp, the ring of my Prince Albert pressing against his hand as I grip his beautiful ass. He lets go of my dick to hold my butt cheeks, and our cocks seek each other out, meshing together as we buck against each other, hard flesh against hard flesh, a frantic dance of hips and cock.
Fuck, it feels incredible.
My balls tighten, and tingles spark through them. “I’m gonna come, Gabe.” I grind into him.
His cock jerks against mine and he explodes with a hiss, his cum shooting onto my lower abs. I grunt and thrust, my cock sliding in the slick of his release, and then I’m there too, spilling onto him as I crest the wave.
I crush my mouth on Gabe’s before deepening the kiss, enjoying the feel of him, this man, my hot lover and best friend. “Guess we’d better have a shower,” I say, pulling away from him.
“You’ve guessed right,” he smirks. “Dirty boy.”
LATER, lying in our king-sized bed, I run my hand up his smooth chest. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I do,” he breathes. “And I love you too. Sorry if I don’t say it that often. You know me. Stiff-upper-lip and all that.”
His breathing slows and soon he’s asleep. I kiss his shoulder, and he sighs in his sleep, pulling me close.
Meeting Gabe was the best thing that’s happened to me. Both in our late thirties, we’ve been together eight years already, healing the hurt we’d suffered from failed relationships. Mine with a woman whose career was more important to her than starting a family, and his with a bloke who left him for a himbo from Brighton.
It was fate that brought us together, a chance meeting in the Beaufort Bar at The Savoy. We’re from different ends of the social spectrum, you could say. Gabe was drinking a champagne cocktail and I’d ordered a pint of ale. Gabe’s father is an earl and Gabe is set to inherit the title, not that you’d realize if you hadn’t been told; Gabe is totally unassuming.
I close my eyes, trying to clear my mind of thoughts so I can sleep... tomorrow I have a ton of work to get through. I fucking hope this new girl works out… that’s if we take her on; it’s not every girl who’d be able to manage a set-up like ours.
