Nanny Next Door Read online

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said.

  She stretched and yawned. “What time is it?”

  “Eight forty-five. I guess you were tired. You passed out cold the minute you laid down.”

  “Why are you up?”

  “I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up and showered. And made coffee. I thought I could make us breakfast.”

  “Is April awake?”

  He shook his head. “When she’s up in the middle of the night she usually sleeps in late. She probably won’t be up for another hour and a half at least.” He leaned down, pressed a very soft kiss to her lips and then whispered against them, “Why? Did you have something other than breakfast in mind?”

  He had no idea how tempting that was, considering how disappointed she’d been last night. But she wasn’t sure how she felt about their first date taking place in his bed.

  But he was kissing her lips and jaw, working his way over to nibble her ear. And she could feel herself melting.

  “We’re supposed to be taking this slow,” she reminded him.

  “We are,” he said, kissing the curve of her neck. “We won’t go any further than you want. Say the word and I’ll stop.”

  In that case, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to fool around a little bit. She beckoned him closer with a crook of her finger. He climbed in beside her with a grin.

  For a while all they did was kiss, and kissing him was so nice, it was enough. He touched her face and rubbed her back, combed his fingers through her hair—nothing overtly sexual. But that didn’t stop her from getting crazy turned on. After a while she was the one who was having trouble keeping her hands to herself. And she began to wonder if her plan was an unrealistic one.

  She’d forgotten it was supposed to feel like this. So… good. For years, sex had been a duty. Something to tolerate, not enjoy. And then there had just been…nothing. No wonder her libido was slamming into overdrive. It hadn’t been out to play in a long time. And Daniel wasn’t doing enough playing.

  “Hold on.” She sat up to pull her shirt over her head, tossed it on the floor, then settled back down beside him.

  He was grinning. “You trying to tell me something?”

  “Maybe we don’t have to go quite that slow.” Although, with her past experience, she couldn’t help but fear that she was destined to disappoint him. What did she know about pleasing a man? Near the end of her and Jeff’s physical relationship, she hadn’t done a whole lot more than just…lie there. And wait for it to be over. There had been a time when she enjoyed sex, but that was many years ago. She was sure, with practice, it would come back to her.

  Daniel kissed her neck, her shoulder, then she felt him pulling her bra strap down and tensed.

  He stopped and looked down at her. “Too much?”

  Too much, too little. “I’m just a bit out of practice. I don’t want to…disappoint you.”

  “Sydney, that isn’t even a possibility. Besides, all you have to do right now is let me make you feel good.”

  Make her feel good? But what about him?

  He slid the lace cup down, exposing her breast, and pressed an openmouthed kiss to her nipple.

  She moaned and dug her fingers through his hair.

  He bared the other breast and took it in his mouth, sucking hard, and for the life of her she could no longer recall why she thought going slow was a good idea. All she could process in her hormone-drenched brain was that she wanted more. She wanted to touch him. Feel him. But when she tried he intercepted her hands.

  “Just you,” he said.

  He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the uppermost part of her stomach, then another just below it, then another, gradually working his way down.

  He reached the waistband of her shorts, tracing a path across her stomach with his tongue, from one side all the way to the other. Sydney was so turned on, her thoughts were murky and unfocused, and the ache between her thighs was becoming unbearable. Daniel was going too fast, and not fast enough. And all she wanted was for him to touch her.

  Expecting him to kiss his way back up to her breasts, she gasped when he pressed his mouth to the inside of her right thigh instead. The sensation was so foreign and erotic—and good—she gasped, jerking involuntarily.

  He pulled back and looked up, as if he thought he might have gone too far. “Too much?”

  Yes, but not in the way he thought. It was so good she felt completely out of control. And she liked it. If he stopped now she honestly didn’t think she could stand it. “Don’t stop.”

  He unfastened her shorts and sat up to tug them down. She lifted her hips to help him.

  She expected him to lie back down beside her, but instead he lowered his head and kissed her again. This time higher, using his tongue to tease the crease where her body met her thigh.

  She moaned and arched, her thighs falling open. Her wanton behavior should have embarrassed her, but she was walking the fine line between arousal and bliss, a place she hadn’t ventured anywhere near in longer than she cared to remember. Daniel pressed her thighs even farther apart. The he pulled her panties aside and dipped his head.

  The reaction was instantaneous. She cried out as pleasure wrenched through her. So perfect she wanted to sob, and laugh, and cry.

  When she couldn’t take any more, she pushed at his head, pulling her legs closed, saying breathlessly, “Too much.”

  Daniel grumbled a protest, trying to gently pry her legs apart. “Let me do it again.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. One more time.”

  She shook her head. “Too sensitive.”

  She wasn’t used to this. Her body had been ignored for so long, she needed to take her time. Besides, what about his pleasure? He must have expected something in return.

  He started kissing his way back up her body, every touch of his lips causing a thrilling little aftershock. He settled beside her, but when she reached for the fly of his jeans, he stopped her.

  “Don’t,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “I meant what I said. Right now all I want is to make you feel good.”

  SYDNEY LOOKED AT HIM as though he’d just beamed down from the mother ship. “But…what about you?”

  Was he turned on? Hell, yes. And though his own body ached for release, he could wait. He wanted to wait. She needed to know that her pleasure was his top priority right now. That not all men were selfish when it came to sex. And making her see that was the only satisfaction he needed right now.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said.

  “But—”

  He smothered her words with a kiss. And for a while that was all he did. Kiss her and stroke her skin. Well, that and redirect her roaming hands as they strayed closer to his crotch. He finally got fed up and clasped her wrists together, pinning them to the mattress above her head.

  She opened her mouth to complain, so he kissed her again, slow and deep. Not so easy to talk with his tongue in her mouth, was it?

  She made a sound of protest and pushed against his hands, and if he’d thought for a second she wasn’t enjoying it he wouldn’t have hesitated to let go. But her struggle lacked conviction. In fact, being restrained seemed to fuel her arousal. After only a few minutes of kissing and touching her, he had her writhing and whimpering again. But this time he was going to make it last.

  He slid his hand inside her panties to tease her, but the instant he touched her warm, dewy flesh, she shattered again. She arched against his hand, riding it out, until she moaned and crushed her legs together, gasping, “Please, no more.”

  She may have wanted to take things slowly, but her body seemed not to grasp the concept. She was making this way too easy.

  Sydney rolled on her side and curled against him, pressing her forehead to his chest, her breath coming in shallow bursts. “That felt…so good.”

  He reached around her back and flicked open the clasp on her bra. “You say that like we’re finished.”

  “I am,
” she said, but she didn’t stop him as he slid off her bra.

  “I don’t think so.” He tossed her bra over his shoulder, then reached down to tug off her panties.

  “I really can’t,” she insisted, lifting her hips so he could ease them down. For someone so adamantly against this, she was being awfully helpful. And he didn’t doubt for a minute that he could talk her into making love. The weird thing was, he didn’t want to.

  No, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to. God knows he did. And if she had been any other woman he wouldn’t have hesitated. But this was different. Sydney was different.

  And maybe he was a little different now, too.

  “You can,” he said, kissing her before she could argue, determined to prove her wrong.

  As many times as possible.

  LACEY KNELT on the hard ground and planted flowers until her kneecaps felt like exploding. Then someone tossed her a pair of leather gloves and she was told to unload bricks and pass them to the bricklayers. This seemed to go on for hours, until her arms ached and her back had all but seized up from the bending and stretching. To top it all off she was soaked with sweat and felt like a boiled lobster.

  When the crew stopped for lunch at one o’clock, she sat in the shade with the burger and soda Mike had bought her—since she forgot to bring money—and prayed someone would hit her in the head with a shovel and put her out of her misery.

  Unaware of her silent suffering, Mike cheerfully informed her the original color of Coke was green.

  Becky, the only other girl there, sat next to Lacey, showing off her various tattoos and piercings. A few in places Lacey would have preferred not to see. And despite looking like she could kick anyone’s butt—even Jordan’s—she was friendly.

  Jordan’s attitude hadn’t changed all morning. He laughed and joked with everyone else and practically ignored Lacey. When he did speak to her, it was in that same cold, intolerant tone, and every now and then he would bark out an order or two.

  When lunch was over she gathered up her garbage and limped to the trashcan. Turning back around, she ran face first into Jordan’s chest.

  “Watch where you’re going,” she snapped, but before she could back away he grabbed her arm and inspected it.

  His brow furrowed and he shook his head slightly. “I gave you sunblock.”

  She ripped her arm out of his grip. “Who are you, the sunblock police?”

  “I’ll get the Professor to drive you home.”

  What? “I’m not going home.”

  “You’re a mess. You’re limping, sunburned and exhausted. Just admit you can’t hack it and leave.” He started to walk away.

  Forgetting her various aches and pains, she stomped after him. “Is that what this is about? You’re so chauvinistic you don’t think a woman can do the job?”

  Jordan just kept walking so she reached for his arm. The effect was like a static charge she felt all over. His skin was hot and slick with sweat, the muscles underneath hard as a rock.

  Whoa.

  He stopped and looked at the hand on his arm and then back down at her face, but the motion seemed to take an hour, as if the world were running in slow motion. She yanked her hand away and stuffed it into the back pocket of her jeans. “I’m fine. I can do the work.”

  He studied her for another eternity, and Lacey became aware that everyone else had abandoned what they were doing and turned to look at them. All the while Jordan kept those intense eyes glued to her face.

  “Professor,” he called suddenly and she jumped at the sound of his voice. “Take her to the truck, make her put sunblock on, then give her something easy to do.”

  He was letting her win this time, but not without humiliating her in front of everyone first. But she wouldn’t let him or anyone else see how embarrassed she was. She lifted her chin, smiled up at Mike and said loudly. “If you’re lucky, I’ll let you do my back.”

  She hoped Jordan would hear, but he was halfway across the yard by that time.

  Lacey spent the remainder of the afternoon picking up garbage, pulling weeds and gathering tools, with Jordan spouting occasional orders at her.

  He wasn’t rude or mean, just indifferent, and she had no defense against that. If she was rude, she’d seem childish. If she tried to evoke any reaction at all, good or bad, she’d seem desperate for his attention. No matter what she did she came out looking like an idiot, but for some reason she couldn’t just sit back and be ignored.

  By that evening she was relieved to be getting away from him. She couldn’t imagine going through this day after day.

  “Did you know an ostrich’s eye is bigger than its brain?” Mike asked as they strolled to the truck. “And the longest recorded flight of a chicken is fourteen seconds.”

  “Professor!” Jordan called, jogging up next to them. “I need you to run to the office and drop off the equipment.” He hitched his thumb in Lacey’s direction. “I’ll drive her home.”

  “Sure thing,” Mike said, giving Lacey a sympathetic smile and a wink.

  When they were alone, Lacey turned to Jordan. “I have a name, you know.”

  “Well, Lacey, unless you’re walking, get in the truck.”

  She was so furious she probably would have walked if it hadn’t been over five miles to her house. But with no other choice she got into Jordan’s truck and sulked. He climbed in next to her and started the engine. “Buckle your seat belt.”

  “Make me.”

  He gave her one of those blank looks. “The truck doesn’t move until your seat belt is on.”

  “I’ve got all the time in the world,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Jordan let out a quiet sigh and shook his head so subtly she almost didn’t see him do it. Then he shocked her by leaning across the her and fastening the seat belt for her. In the few seconds he was stretched across her she could smell a hint of aftershave and the strong scent of a guy who’d worked in the sun all day. And she liked it. As a matter of fact, she liked it a lot. She wondered what he would do if she reached up and touched the soft jet-black curls peeking out from under the ball cap he wore. But as fast as he had pinned her, he straightened in his seat.

  “Undo that and I’ll put you over my knee,” he warned tonelessly, putting the truck in gear and pulling away from the curb.

  “Do you hate all females, or is it just me?” she asked.

  “Who says I hate you?”

  “Is resent a better word?”

  “So, you assume I’m a woman hater?”

  “It was just a question. Why do you care what I think, anyway?”

  She saw his knuckles whiten as he gripped the steering wheel, and he didn’t answer. Though she tried two more times to engage him in an argument, he fell back into that controlled indifference. He was infuriating—and fascinating. And as much as she wanted to hate him, he was getting under her skin and she couldn’t figure out why.

  When Jordan pulled up in her driveway, Shane’s car was parked across the street. Shane was sitting on the hood waiting for her.

  “Shoot.” She instinctively sank lower in her seat. He’d texted her about fifty times that morning. She hadn’t responded, so he started calling and leaving messages when she wouldn’t pick up. It had gotten so annoying she’d had to shut off her phone.

  Jordan looked at Shane then over at Lacey hunched low in her seat. “Problem?” he asked.

  “I broke up with him and now he’s stalking me.”

  “Is that the moron who was sitting in the parking lot the other morning?” he asked and Lacey nodded. “Figures you’d date someone like that.”

  “I told you, I broke up with him. He won’t leave me alone.”

  “Well, then, you should be happy. You seem to like drawing attention to yourself.”

  “Screw you, Jordan.” Shoving the door open with her shoulder, she stormed toward the house. Shane was behind her in a flash.

  “Hey, Lace, stop. I want to talk to you.”

  He put h
is hand on her arm and she shrugged it off. “Not now, Shane, I’m tired.”

  “I just wanted to tell you, I’m sorry for whatever I did and if having a job is that important to you, I guess it’s okay with me.”

  “Wow, that’s awfully generous of you.”

  He grabbed her arm again, stopping her. “Lacey, come on. You can quit playing hard to get. I said I was sorry.”

  “Hey, pal, you want leave my girlfriend alone?”

  She heard Jordan’s deep voice behind her, and like that day in the office, the sound made her tingle. She and Shane both turned to see Jordan walking casually toward them, and for once that look of indifference was aimed at someone other than her.

  “Who is this guy?” Shane asked, backing up a step. Jordan outweighed him by about fifty pounds—all of it muscle.

  “You heard him, he’s my new boyfriend,” Lacey said, following Jordan’s lead, trying not to stiffen when he slipped a sweaty arm around her shoulder and tugged her against his side. But she liked the feel of his arm there. She liked it so much she started to get that squishy feeling again.

  “I have to go drop off the equipment but I’ll stop by later,” Jordan said, then stunned her by lowering his head and pressing his lips against hers. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, but his lips were warm and soft, and she felt it everywhere. In places she never knew she was supposed to feel a kiss.

  Kissing Shane was never like this.

  When Jordan finally pulled away she was so dizzy she had to cling to him to keep from falling over. Shane hadn’t hung around to watch, he was already halfway to his car.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling up at Jordan, and was met by his usual cold, impersonal stare. As quickly as the grateful feelings enveloped her, they were gone.

  “We’re even,” he said, then turned and strode toward the truck.

  Humiliated, she held back a sudden well of tears. Foolishly, for that brief moment, she’d thought he liked her at least a little, but she had obviously been mistaken.

  She was just about to turn toward the house when movement by the side of the house across the street caught her eye. She looked over just in time to see someone dart into the backyard.