by Kendall Ryan
Her tangled hair cascades over one naked shoulder, and it’s hard to tear my eyes away from her exposed chest. For as much as I fucking adore her tits, I’m doing an excellent job of maintaining eye contact.
Wait, what did she ask me?
“Truthfully,” I manage to say, barely recovering, “I didn’t. I take mine black, and it didn’t even occur to me to offer you cream or sugar. I actually don’t know if I have sugar. I can run to the minimart and grab some if you want—”
Jessa cuts me off, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze. “This is great.”
I scrub my other hand through my hair, which is officially too long for comfort. “Guess I’m out of practice in this area. The morning-after area.”
“Well, that’s preferred in my book.” She chuckles, leaning in to press a firm kiss against my lips and threading her fingers together behind my neck.
My eyes flutter closed as I relish the simplicity of this domestic moment. And as soon as the pleasure comes, so does its good friend pain.
My heart hitches. Don’t leave.
When we part, she gives me a sly little smile. “Thanks for the coffee.”
Unable to resist, I kiss her again. “You’re welcome.”
After waiting a bit until it’s no longer scalding hot, we both enjoy that first life-giving sip of coffee that comes with the start of each new day. Jessa squirms happily when it reaches her lips, brightening at the flavor.
“God, that’s good.”
The words throw me back to last night, when she was whispering them in between sexy little whimpers. I feel a kick of interest in my shorts. She looks comfortable as hell, perched up against my pillows without a single swatch of fabric covering her naked body, just the sheet. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t turning me on right now.
“Do you want one of my T-shirts?” I ask, more for myself than for her.
She meets my gaze, drawing the sheets higher up over her chest. “Oh, sure, yeah. Sorry.”
Hell no.
Realizing my mistake, I set my coffee down with a soft thunk, not caring if it sloshes onto my nightstand. Planting one knee on the mattress, I lean into her, pulling her cup from her hands and setting it aside before capturing her lips in a hungry, demanding kiss. Jessa sighs against my mouth, her fingers latching onto the thick cotton of my hoodie before wandering beneath to reacquaint herself with the muscles of my torso.
I tug at the sheet, a silent request that she eagerly agrees to. The sheet slides off her shoulders, and before long, I’m mounted between her legs again, grinding myself against her with a desperation that should have been satisfied last night. Seems like Jessa really brings out the sex fiend in me. She opens her lips to the prompting of my tongue, giving me access to the bittersweet taste of coffee already coating her mouth. We both pull back simultaneously, gasping for air.
“You can lie here naked in my bed for as long as you’d like.”
“But what if I want to wear one of your shirts?” There’s that sly smile again.
The image of one of my soft gray tees draped over Jessa’s curves flashes through my mind, sending a hot coil of desire down to the now full-blown erection in my shorts.
“Then I’ll gladly give you one. But I’d only ask that, eventually, it goes back on the floor where it belongs.” I nod down to her perky boobs, which rise and fall with her laughter.
What a sight.
“Don’t you have stuff to do today?” she asks before our lips meet again for a brief, sweet kiss.
“Oh yeah. Lots of stuff.” I lower myself to her neck, pressing featherlight kisses to her pulse, right where I know she likes it best. “Very important work to do.”
“Maybe,” she says with a happy sigh, one bare leg lifting to squeeze against my hip, “you should get to work then.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” I growl into her collarbone before nipping and sucking one perky nipple into my mouth. But when the next words leave Jessa’s lips on the tail end of a satisfied sigh, I still.
“I like you a lot, Connor.”
It’s so frank and sincere that I struggle to find the words to compete. Because how do you tell the woman destined to leave you just how much she means to you?
Well, damn. I guess you just do.
“I like you a lot too, Jessa.”
15
* * *
CONNOR
“Hold still!”
Jessa’s fingers are splayed across my damp head, turning it this way and that as the foreboding sound of scissors working gets closer and closer to my ears. After putting Marley to bed and popping open a bottle of red, we were ready to cuddle up with a movie and chill for the rest of the night when I caught my reflection in the darkness of the screen.
My hair is longer than it’s been in years, so I made the innocent mistake of complaining about it, among a litany of other tedious to-do items I haven’t gotten around to yet, like getting my oil changed, updating my voter status, researching new dishwashers. As a single dad with a full-time job and very few free moments to myself, it’s hard to summon up the energy to do even the easiest of tasks. So when Jessa offered to trim my hair for me, a job I’d normally assign to a professional, I couldn’t think of a good reason to say no.
Now, I can think of a few.
“Remind me how many times you’ve cut another person’s hair?” As hard as I try to mask it, my voice gives away just how nervous I am. I can’t go into work looking like I put my head in the blender.
Jessa’s eyes meet mine in the bathroom mirror, where I’m fixed like a petrified gargoyle on a stool with a gray towel draped around my shoulders. She goes back to focusing her attention on measuring the hair on either side of my head.
Even in this bright fluorescent lighting, she’s beautiful. Watching her at work is always captivating, but having those blue eyes zeroed in on me? It stirs a little excitement in my core. Or maybe that’s my nerves, seeing as I might not make it out of this night in one piece.
“Hundreds of times,” she says with a confident nod. “Short cuts like yours too. Comes with the territory of being the big sister of a lot of boys who go from buzz cut to Bieber in, like, a week. Why? Are you scared or something?”
“Scared, no. Contemplating my escape? Yes.”
Jessa swats me playfully, except she uses the hand with the scissors to do so.
I flinch reflexively. “Cool it, Edward Scissorhands.”
“Sorry.” She giggles, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I promise I won’t snip you.”
“You can snip. Just no buzz cuts.”
“Please. You’d look good with or without hair. I’m just going to trim it all down so it’s not in your eyes as much. Less bunching up around your ears too. Do you trust me?” Her smile is as contagious as it is calming.
“Yes.”
Snip, snip. Snip.
As Jessa begins to shape the mop on my head, I close my eyes, focusing on the sensation of her fingertips combing through my damp hair. It’s a comforting feeling, knowing you’re in good hands. And Jessa’s hands have a magical, soothing effect on me. I’m beginning to doze when her voice draws me back.
“You just have the one sibling, right?”
I blink open my eyes lazily. “Yeah, it’s just me and Penelope.”
“She’s really nice. I like her. It’s a relief, honestly—she treats me like she’s known me longer than six weeks.”
“That’s my sister for you. All she wants is for everyone within a mile radius of her to be happy. She’s kind of a people pleaser in that way.”
Using two fingers, Jessa lines up a few uneven strands along the side of my head and straightens them with a single confident snip. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” I murmur, shrugging, and Jessa gives me a warning look as if to say didn’t I ask you to sit still? Must be the big sister in her coming out. “Not with Wolfie there to look out for her and make sure she’s taking care of herself too. How about you? What are your siblings lik
e?”
“Oh wow, where to begin? There are six of us, to start.”
“Geez. Six.” My eyes widen. “That must have been a lot.”
“Mm-hmm. Three girls and three boys. Me and Taylor and my little brother are my mom’s kids from her first marriage. The twins and little Cara are from her second marriage.”
I sense there’s a story there that Jessa isn’t telling me. But as curious as I am, I ultimately make the call not to pry. If she wants to tell me, she will.
“That’s quite the family.”
She quirks an eyebrow and lets out a humorless laugh. “No kidding. I love them all to death, don’t get me wrong, even when they’re being total assholes. But when I was at home, it was like . . . I don’t know.”
She shakes her head, her mouth twisted into a frown. “I couldn’t be myself. I was too busy making sure that no one was eating glue or stepping into traffic. Money was really tight for a while there, so my mom and stepdad were working full-time jobs at all sorts of odd hours to pay for, well, the six kids between them. So there was an unspoken expectation that I was the backup plan, the perpetual babysitter.”
“That must have been really hard.”
She smiles, relief written all over her features. “You can imagine how nice it was to leave and go to college. Coming home for the summers to help with the kids wasn’t a walk in the park exactly, but it beat being on call twenty-four/seven. Can you tip your chin down?”
I do as she asks, feeling her warm fingers brush against the back of my neck. “Sounds like you’ve always been working, even at home.”
Jessa snorts. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Although, it’s been nice renting from the Wilkeses, making a little home for myself. Did you know their son is coming home from his shore-duty tour early?”
“I didn’t. What does that mean for you?”
Her voice turns solemn. Thoughtful. “Well, he needs somewhere to stay, so my lease is ending a few days early. They’re being super fair about it, though. I mean, they cut my rent in half this month, so I’m really the one winning here.”
I frown. “But . . . where will you stay? Your trip isn’t for another two weeks. Are you leaving early?”
“Chin up,” Jessa says.
At first I think she’s caught on to the quiet stress underlying my casual tone. Then I remember where we are and what we’re doing. I lift my chin, and Jessa drags her fingers over my forehead, combing the wet hair back.
“Thank you.”
Snip, snip. Snip, snip.
Finally, she answers my question. “I can’t leave early because my flight is already booked. So you don’t have to worry about finding an interim nanny between me and whoever you’ve got lined up to take over next month.”
The truth is, I have no one lined up. Because contracting another nanny means that I have to accept the fact that Jessa is really leaving.
While I do understand that, in theory, I’ve been avoiding processing it fully. The truth is, I’ve been dreading replacing Jessa. Even more so, I’ve been dreading losing Jessa. My stomach tightens with dread at the thought.
“However,” she says, snapping me out of my sad spiral, “I do need a place to stay for the last few days. I was thinking about asking Scarlett if I could crash in her guest room. How much do you think is fair to offer her?”
I ignore Jessa’s question, instead asking one of my own, barely formed before it barrels out of my mouth. “Why don’t you just stay here?”
Her hands still in my hair, a look of surprise plastered on her face, she watches me, waiting for some sort of punch line. But it isn’t a joke. Although, if she doesn’t respond soon, I’ll have to force myself to play it off as one.
“You don’t mean that.” She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re only saying that because I’ve practically got a blade to your neck.” She emphasizes the word blade by snipping once again with the scissors.
I swallow, steadying my voice to sound as casual as I can without seeming flippant. “I mean it. We’re nearing the end of the second quarter at Frisky Business, and I still have to meet my quota. Meaning I’m only going to get busier until then. I could use your help taking care of Marley at night too.”
“Your quota?” Jessa narrows her eyes, all skepticism and uncertainty.
“Yep.” It’s not a lie. Not really. I do have to meet a quota of customer interactions that yield goods sold.
But I’m not going to tell her that I’m only two points away from my goal, a milestone I’m sure to pass tomorrow. And I’m certainly not going to tell her that the reason I want her to move in has little to do with Marley at all. Because that would require me admitting to myself that I’m in love with my baby girl’s nanny.
Oh fuck.
Jessa mulls over my offer while my thoughts stop dead in their circular tracks, focusing on one simple fact, as clear as a summer sky.
I love Jessa McClaine.
I love this gorgeous, contemplative woman. I love her eyes. I love her freckles. I love the way she snorts a little when she laughs. I love the feel of her fingertips trailing across my skin. I love how she smells, how she tastes, how she makes me feel when she meets my eyes across a room. I love how she loves my daughter, how she looks so at home, so at peace, holding Marley in her arms. I love Jessa and all the complications that come with her.
Well. Isn’t that the most tragic thing you’ve ever heard?
“I guess it would make the commute easier, not that it was ever much of a hike.” She laughs, though her voice is a bit uneasy. “Are you sure?”
The question is honest. Practical. Giving me a way out. Little does she know that I’m already trapped.
I do my best to crack a smile. “As long as you don’t totally butcher this haircut, you can move in as soon as we’re done here.”
Jessa scoffs but a grin sneaks across her lips, the kind of grin I’m desperate to kiss. “I’m already done, you diva. What do you think?”
I really haven’t been paying attention to the haircut, I guess. I’ve been lost in thought, so I take this opportunity to ground myself in the present.
With the sides and back cut down several inches and plenty of length remaining on top to play with, Jessa’s gone and given me a near-professional cut. I’m honestly kind of impressed by the sharp yet roguish man I find in the mirror.
“Not bad.” I smirk, running a hand through the almost dry hair. Damn, that feels better.
“Not bad?” She guffaws. “Seriously? This is the best haircut I’ve ever given, thank you very much.”
I chuckle, grabbing one of her hands and pulling it to my lips to plant a firm kiss on her knuckles. “It does look good. Thank you. I love it.”
“Really?” Jessa asks, that innocent streak shining through all the sass and snark. “You do?”
“Yeah,” I murmur against her fingers.
I spin around on the stool, looping my arms under her knees and hoisting her onto my lap. Her startled gasp quickly dissolves into a fit of giggles as I run my hands up and down the smooth fabric of her leggings, peppering tiny kisses on her neck and collarbones.
“You never answered my question,” I growl into her ear, flicking my tongue against the soft skin just behind it.
She sighs, wrapping her arms around my neck and scooting herself closer into my groin, which is already hardening in record time. My hands find her ass, giving it a good, hard squeeze that earns me a heady moan of approval.
“Which question was that?” she asks, her voice already trembling with desire.
God, I love the way this woman makes me feel, nearly as much as I love the way I make her feel. I trail my fingers up her loose-fitting tee, wandering the expanse of her back and shoulders until finding the thick strap of her sports bra and giving it a needy pull.
“Will you move in with me?”
I pull the sports bra down Jessa’s shoulders with a firm tug before capturing her tits in my hands and pinching her nipples between my fingers. She grinds herself
into my lap, one hand braced against the bathroom sink for support, the other playing with my fresh haircut.
“Yes, as soon as they need the room back.” She groans before continuing with a steadier voice. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We take a shower, immediately.” She chuckles, leaning back to look me in the eye. “Don’t you feel all the tiny hairs on your neck and shoulders? You’re absolutely covered.”
I shrug with a lazy smirk, giving her nipples another pinch, and Jessa gasps, her eyes never leaving mine as her cheeks flush a darker shade of pink. “I’m pretty focused on feeling other things right now.”
“Well,” she murmurs, leaning in to brush my lips with hers. Her tongue slides teasingly across my lower lip. “I also have all your damn little hairs on me, and I’m really itchy.”
I glide my hand behind the back of her slight neck, pulling her mouth to mine for a greedy, sloppy kiss. I lean back, our lips separating with a wet pop. “I guess it’s shower time then.”
With that, I stand, carrying Jessa with me, and open the shower curtain. When I crank the shower knob, she shrieks before clapping a hand over her mouth so she doesn’t wake the baby. In the steamy shower, we peel off our clothes and collide again in a desperate embrace, this time fully naked with nothing left to hide.
But with my little revelation this evening, I am hiding something, aren’t I? It’s all I can think about when I have her pinned against the tile wall, thrusting with her legs locked like a vice around my hips.
It takes everything in me not to blurt it out in rhythm with the sound of her chanting my name as we lose ourselves to a tidal wave of pleasure that leaves us both gasping for air.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
16
* * *
JESSA
My flight is only days away, and it feels like I’ve eaten a three-course meal consisting entirely of rocks. I’ve never been so reluctant to get on a plane in my entire life.
