Page 23 of Touch My Shelves

CHAPTER 8

BRAX

I press the delete key on the words I’ve been working on for the past few hours until nothing but blank white page remains. My eyes go once more to the two outside by the pool. Freeya has on her unicorn sparkles one-piece. Poppy is wearing a black two-piece that shows no more skin than a one-piece, but it’s how it fits her that’s kept me semi-hard for the past few hours.

Her breasts are pushed up and heave with every movement she makes. I’ve been anxiously waiting for one or both of her nipples to make an appearance. The bottoms aren’t cut high, or low for that matter, but they mold to her spectacular ass.

What the hell was I thinking, feeling her up in my office? When she moaned, my dick jerked to attention and I could imagine her half-closed lids and the look of bliss on her face as she comes.

Freeya jumps from the side of the pool onto a float, splashing Poppy reclining on a pink and white swan float. She throws her head back, laughs, and drags her hand across the water, splashing Freeya back. They laugh even more and it does something to me, hearing and seeing my daughter so happy. Freeya climbs out again and cannonballs Poppy, sending her swan atop a big wave to the other end of the pool.

Poppy slides off the float and swims underwater to dunk Freeya. They both come up laughing and splashing each other. I grin and chuckle out loud at the carefree play. They’ve been carrying on like this all afternoon. I’m still watching when they both head for the ladder.

Like clockwork, every hour Poppy gets out of the water and reapplies sunscreen on them both. It’s torture seeing her hands glide across her toned skin, rubbing it into the places I want to touch, to taste.

My gaze shifts to the smiling face of my daughter. I’ve never seen her this happy and relaxed with any of the other nannies. Why have I never noticed this before? That’s been the problem. The other nannies were educators and had experience. Poppy, by her own admission, is inadequate for the job. She isn’t, though. She’s perfect for the position.

Freeya is learning and keeping up with her schoolwork using methods that might be unconventional, but they’re effective. The biggest difference between Poppy and all the other nannies is that she doesn’t know she should have boundaries. Poppy considers Freeya a friend and appears to enjoy spending time with her. Other than the cave incident, I’ve not had one report of my wayward child wandering off.

That, more than anything, is why I shouldn’t make any moves on Poppy. She needs to remain strictly in the nanny role.

I grin when I see four legs and four feet sticking up out of the water. The girls are back in the pool doing handstands. They come up laughing and high-five each other. I’m glued to their antics for at least another hour.

Regretfully, Poppy calls time and then both get out of the pool and dry off. Poppy pulls on a long, white, mesh cover-up and picks up their wet towels.

Once the patio door closes behind them, I can no longer be a Peeping Tom on their swim time. I focus my eyes on the glaring white screen of my computer. Why the hell can’t I come up with the ending?

I’d wanted to finish the entire series with this book, but the publishing house wants an open-ended close because the network has already ordered a new season. How can I tie up the storyline, yet tease of what’s to come in the future if I have no idea what that is? I need to decide what direction to take the next story if I have any hope of figuring out the ending of this one.

A knock at the door saves me from my indecision.

“Come in,” I call out and Poppy walks in. She’s changed out of her swimsuit and into a FI t-shirt with a pair of leggings. I can’t imagine her buying such an outfit. Neither garment looks like something she’d ever choose to wear. Guilt eats away at my insides. Everything she owned was burned in the fire. These aren’t her clothes and it shouldn’t matter to me what she wears. I loved the dress she wore the first day she arrived. It was unique and fit her personality. This outfit doesn’t.

I’d prefer she wear nothing at all.

I wince when my cock presses on my zipper. Serves me right for going there. Again.

“Excuse me. I know you’re working, but I wondered if I could talk to you for a minute.”

Her purple hair is not as deeply hued and is still damp and left loose around her shoulders. Wet spots decorate the front of her t-shirt. “Sure, come on in. I can’t seem to get anywhere today anyway.”

She only takes a few steps from the door. “Oh no, are there problems at Castle McClellen?”

I blink, not catching her meaning at first. “Ah, yes, you did mention you read my books.”

A pink blush rises on her cheeks. “Yeah, I do and I’m sorry I said the television shows aren’t any good. I mean, they are good, I suppose, if you aren’t comparing them to the books.”

She’s honest, and I’ve thought the same myself since the first season. “You’d be surprised. I don’t think they are either. Maybe that’s why I’m hitting a wall now.”

Taking a few more steps, she sits in the seat across from my desk. “Isn’t the book you’re writing now the end of the story?”

Stunned that she knows this, I nod. “You do read me. You’re right. This one was to be the last book of the series.”

She nods with a knowing smile. “Let me guess. The network wants additional books because the ratings are bringing in the advertising bucks.”

I chuckle, impressed she understands the workings of Hollywood. “You got it in one. So where do Meeka, Darstoff, and the kingdom go from here?”

She takes a pause to think before answering. “Since I haven’t read what you have so far, I can’t tell you. Heck, I couldn’t tell you even if I had read it. You are an incredibly gifted author and I’m… not.” She stumbles at the end making me think there’s more to her comment.

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