Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“Get a room!” someone calls out, breaking the spell that came over me and caused me to kiss her in a parking lot like we were alone in my garage.
She lifts her head, and I touch my forehead to hers, needing time to catch my breath. It will be awhile before my body calms down, my dick hard and erect in my pants.
“I should apologize,” I say, not letting go of her waist. “I don’t want to, but I should. Because I’m your boss, and I don’t want you to feel taken advantage of. Or sue me for sexual harassment, God forbid.” I laugh, but the thought isn’t the least bit funny.
“It was mutual,” she whispers. “I just don’t know what to make of it. I’ve never crossed that line with an employer before.” Her voice trembles, and I hate that I put that quiver there.
“Listen,” I begin.
“No. That kiss shouldn’t have happened, and there won’t be a repeat. It’s fine.” She ducks past me and slides into the car. “Let’s just forget about it,” she says, reaching for the handle so she can pull the door shut and seal herself inside.
I step back, giving her space, but my body and mind still buzz from that simple kiss. There is something brewing between us that she can’t discount by pretending it never happened. Something that will bring us together again.
It isn’t like I don’t still have concerns about sleeping with my kid’s nanny. I do. I just know the desire between us is stronger than our common sense, and sooner or later, she’ll come to the same conclusion.
Still, for now, I’ll respect her wishes and back off. But I’m not foolish enough to think we can avoid the inevitable.
Not anymore.
* * *
Mia
I am shaken by what happened with Austin in the parking lot. I didn’t see that kiss coming, no matter how much I might have desired it, and now that we crossed that line, I don’t know what to say or do except to pretend it never happened. The hottest, most sensual kiss of my life, and I have to put it behind me.
I can’t let my mind drift into memories of how his mouth captured mine, gently at first, his tongue gliding over my lips, his tongue tangling with mine, and then it turned molten, his teeth nipping at my lip, the sensation traveling straight to my core. No, I’m not supposed to think about that at all.
Somehow, I manage that feat for the rest of the week. Tomorrow is Friday. I blow out a breath and pull a lasagna from the oven, placing it on a cooling rack on the counter.
“Mia!” Bailey shouts, running into the kitchen from upstairs and skidding to a stop in front of me. “I was FaceTiming with Grandma and guess what? I’m going there for a sleepover tomorrow night!”
I smile at the enthusiasm in her tone. “That sounds like fun.”
“Will you miss me?” Bailey asks, seating herself on a stool by the counter.
I glance at the little girl. “You bet I will, but I’m going out with some friends tomorrow night, so that’ll help me get through it.” I am taking the train to New York City to see friends from my days living there for school and work.
“Like a playdate?” Bailey asks.
“Exactly.”
“Hi, ladies.” Austin walks into the room, his gaze zeroing in on the cooling dinner. “That smells incredible.”
“Thank you.” He seems to like my cooking, and it makes me ridiculously happy to know I am doing something helpful for him, even if it is my job.
“Daddy, Mia has a playdate Friday night when I’m at Grandma and Grandpa’s. Isn’t that good? So she won’t have time to miss me too much.”
Although I’m technically off Friday nights, if I don’t go out, Bailey sometimes makes her way down to my room and encourages me to watch television with her until bedtime.
“What’ll you do when I’m gone?” the precocious little girl asks.
“I’m sure I’ll find something to keep me busy,” Austin says wryly.
I don’t want to think about what Austin might do to keep busy on a Friday night without his daughter. No doubt the man has women he sees discreetly, because in the time I’ve been working for him, he’s never brought a female around Bailey nor has he mentioned going out. He hasn’t dressed up in the evenings for a date, either. Still, that doesn’t mean he is celibate. Hell, his kissing skills are off the charts, and that kind of thing takes practice. Doesn’t it?
I glance over, noting he wears his typical hanging-around-the-house outfit, black track pants and a tee shirt, and I have trouble tearing my gaze away from those muscular arms and, in particular, the one sleeve of tattoos. God, the man is sexy. And although I know it is my imagination, I think he’s gotten more so since our kiss and my vow to forget it happened. It is as if the heavens are punishing me by making him look even hotter and more edible.