Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I have given piggyback rides to exactly one person in my entire life—Grace. Until now. And this is nothing like that, because Riley’s legs are wrapped around me, her arms are over my shoulders, and her chest is pressed to my shoulder blades. Most notably, her pussy is warm against my lower back. I shouldn’t notice that, but I definitely do. So does my dick, which surges painfully between my legs.
“Yeehaw, cowboy. Let’s go!” Riley shouts, kicking her feet and bouncing a little like she’s riding a bucking bronco.
I walk stiffly to the house, bending down to let her push the back slider open, and then take her to the bottom of the stairs, where I let her down slowly, carefully—and definitely not memorizing the feel of her breasts skimming over my back.
I can’t face her, not with the situation in my pants, so I stand sideways and say, “Thanks for tonight. I think I needed that more than I thought.”
It’s the truth. Who would’ve thought direct questions, playful games, and blunt honesty would be something I needed? Certainly not me, or likely anyone who knows me.
She ducks her head, almost seeming shy though I know she doesn’t have a timid bone in her body. “You’re welcome. Good night, Cameron.”
When I nod, she begins to walk up the stairs, and the only reason I’m able to force myself to stay there—despite considering both chasing her again or running for the privacy of my bedroom—is because I watch her hips sway left and right with every step. At the top, she waves down at me, then disappears around the corner.
I sprint for my room, needing to release immediately. I rip my clothes off while the shower is still heating up and step into the water’s spray. I don’t bother with soap, just grip myself tightly to stroke my length hard and fast.
I should think about my wife, but I don’t. I could think about one of the women I’ve had sex with over the years or a celebrity, but I don’t do that either.
No, while I fuck my hand, I only think of one woman. Riley Stefano, the damn nanny that I can’t touch and shouldn’t want, but do.
I imagine chasing her around the yard, throwing her to the ground, and fucking her rough with the stars above us.
I imagine bending her over the kitchen counter and taking her from behind with one hand tangled in that soft, messy hair of hers and the other gripping her lush hip so hard that I’d leave fingerprints in the flesh there.
I imagine the hand wrapped around my cock is hers and pretend I can hear the jangling music her bracelets would make as she strokes me.
And when cum spurts over my hand in seconds, I grit my teeth so I don’t say her name.
Once upon a time, I learned how your entire life can change in a single day, or sometimes in a single moment. That time, it was when I lost Michelle and my life took a sharp left turn into something I never thought I’d survive. There was a distinct before and after.
And now, I woke up this morning thinking it would be like any other day. But when I catch my breath from coming so forcefully and realize that I’m still rock hard and wanting to go again, I know that today is another sharp turn in my life. This morning, I thought Riley was a good nanny for my daughter. And now… well, I think she’s the biggest threat to my stability that I’ve ever met.
RILEY
“Sleepy baby, sleepy baby, go to sleep, go to sleep,” Janey sings to Emmett in a sweet, calm voice. I can hear her down the hallway and can’t help but smile. She’s an amazing mother, even if her impromptu song could use a little lyrical work.
I go to the kitchen, grabbing us both drinks from the refrigerator, and wait for her to get Emmett down. In minutes, she rushes me, grabbing for the strawberry-apricot Red Bull dangling from my fingers. “Ahh, my emotional support Red Bull,” she sighs, popping the top and taking a long swallow. Actually, it’d probably qualify more as a gulp.
“You could shotgun it if you need the caffeine hit that badly,” I quip.
“I went months without these, but after just a few, I’m completely addicted again. I’d mainline it if I could,” she jokes, tapping right below her collarbone. “I gave in when Emmett started cluster feeding a few days ago.”
Ah, that explains it.
Emmett is usually a sleeping pro, but if he’s having a growth spurt and needs near-constant calories, that means he’s probably blissfully snoozing while nursing, and all the while, Janey is awake and alert, getting less sleep than she needs.
“Do you think it’s okay that I’m having one Red Bull a day? The doctor said it is, but still, I worry…” She trails off, eyeing the can in her hand like it’s a rattlesnake poised to attack.