Page 36 of Nanny for the SEAL

Without turning on the light, trusting the illumination that floods in from the patio lights on outside, I reach into my stand-alone shower and turn the water to arctic.

Stripping, I step inside, hopeful that the icy spray will drown out any more thoughts of Ivy’s curvy ass all on display or what she might look like after I’ve stolen her bra—the useless piece of fabric that it is.

So far, it isn’t working.

I put my face directly beneath the showerhead, looking up at it with my eyes closed. The frigid water is making me shake, and for a moment, I can feel the cold strip away my desire.

For a moment.

Because with my eyes closed, all I can see are Ivy’s green eyes, the peridot twinkles lighting up as she looks up at me from her knees. My cock stuffed in her mouth.

“Fuuuck,” I grit out, the word harsher,rougher, now.

My erection kicks, alive with my lustful imaginings. Before I can stop myself, I’m bringing my hand down to my hip and then wrapping my fist around the thick base.

I pump hard and quick, the almost angry grip I have on myself making my toes curl. The pleasure builds, and I want to think of it like any other alone-time session.

But that’s so damn naïve of me.

This is not that. This is about Ivy, about picturing my shaft sheathed deep inside her as she grips the edge of my desk for dear fucking life.

I groan, thrusting into my hand like I’m thrusting into her.Ivy.

The water could be gone for all I care now. I’m made of arousal and the desperate need for that beautiful fucking girl.

The sensation begins to peak, my eyes rolling closed again as I imagine her flipped over on my desk as I plow into her with everything I have.

It’s the wicked fantasies that I’ve never acted on, not even with Maeve.

I want to do all those incredible things with Ivy, and it feels so real when I give myself over to it.

And I do.

In no time, I’m tipping over that invisible edge and climaxing with a choked groan. My release makes my vision tunnel, and I empty myself onto the shower wall.

It’s been ages since I’ve done that, and as the stillness of reality comes crashing back in, I’m left wanting more—more of Ivy.

TWELVE

Ivy

I’m out of work early, and as I stand in front of my bathroom mirror, I start messing with my hair for like the twelfth time.

Sam texted earlier that she wanted to grab drinks, and to my surprise, Xaden said he didn’t need me after Daisy’s nap.

I am so ready for a night out, not worrying over my father or trying to keep myself from staring too long at Xaden. Drinks with a girlfriend are exactly what I need.

If only I could finally decide on what I want to wear and get out of here.

Sighing to myself, I gather my hair on the side of my neck and do a quick, fluffy braid. It does the trick of making me feel a bit more put together and suits the chunky knit sweater I’m wearing.

I’ve paired the sweater with a thin white top—scoop-necked with long sleeves so I don’t get too cold—and a pair of black skinny jeans.

As I walk to the front of the house, I yank on my ankle boots, also black, and grab my keys from the catch-all on the console table. The place is starting to feel a bit more like home, and when I get paid again, I’m finally investing in a steam-powered wallpaper remover.

I’m sick of trying the old-fashioned way.

“Okay, Ivy. Off you go,” I say to myself, still a little unbelieving that I actually have a local friend to go out with.

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