Page 43 of One Pucking Life

I kiss and suck against her neck, my fingers still between her legs as her body starts to shake.

She releases a moan into the lust-filled space that sounds equally as pained as it does pleasured. She shutters as she comes hard, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

Her body slows, and she slumps against me, taking deep breaths as she comes down from her high. “Is that what you needed, Laney?” My words are a gravelly whisper.

“Exactly. What. I. Needed,” she pants.

I move out from behind her, and her head falls to the bed. “Think you got one more in you?” I flick off the bit of blanket that’s covering her and kiss down her body.

“Oh, Max…” Delaney sighs, and I take her response as a yes.

My mouth finds the spot where my fingers just were, and Delaney cries out. I insert two fingers deep inside her and start pumping as my tongue worships her clit. I’m so hard, a simple touch would make me explode, but this isn’t about me. This is 100 percent about her.

I’ve imagined this moment so many times, but none of those fantasies even come close to the real thing. She’s beyond anything I could’ve dreamed—beautiful, warm, and open. Everything about her feels perfect.

It doesn’t take long before she’s unraveling again, and when her body begins to soften in my hold, I trail kisses up her skin, slow and reverent. I pause at her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss there before easing off the bed.

She lies still, sated, boneless, and quiet, a soft flush glowing across her cheeks as she basks in the aftermath.

“You’ve changed my life for the better, Laney,” I whisper, looking down at her, memorizing every detail of her face. “If you ever need to feel good… all you have to do is ask.”

And with that, I slip quietly from the room, closing the door behind me.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

DELANEY

The sound of the door shutting makes my heart stutter. I’ve been both dreading and anticipating Max’s return all day.

Something changed between us last night. How could it not?

When a man brings you to two mind-melting orgasms—leaving you sated, boneless, and worshipped—without asking for anything in return, something shifts. It has to.

Only… he’s acting completely normal. Like nothing’s different. Like he wasn’t between my legs last night, licking me into oblivion.

This morning, he came downstairs dressed for practice, calm and casual. Caroline was in her highchair, and I was halfway through trying to feed her rice cereal—an effort that was going about as well as I’d expected. Now that she’s six months old, we’ve started introducing solids, but she hasn’t quite mastered the concept. Most of the rice mush ends up smeared across her face, stuck in her hair, or dropped to the floor in sticky blobs.

She’s brilliant—grasping new things like a champ. Eating, however, is an absolute calamity. It’s messy and chaotic andsomehow completely adorable. Even when it means adding an extra bath to her day.

Max squeezed her little feet, pulled goofy faces that made her laugh, and greeted me the way he always does—warm and easy. He grabbed a protein shake, kissed Caroline’s forehead, wished us a good day, and left.

It was all so normal that, for a moment, I honestly questioned if last night had even happened.

But no.

I press my thighs together at the memory. There’s no way I dreamed it. It was real.

He texted a few times from the store, seeking clarification on a couple of the items on my grocery list Post-it Note. Once again, nothing out of the ordinary.

Today was a blur. Every task I completed was done on autopilot as I thought of nothing but Max. Is he going to bring up last night? Was it a one-night moment of insanity? Or is it going to happen again? What does it all mean? Does he have feelings for me, or was he really just helping me out?

It could happen. God knows he’shelped outloads of women. What’s one more? Plus, do I even want him to have feelings for me? Of course not… I don’t think. This is my job, and he is my boss. I didn’t take the job to become anyone’s wife or mother. I’m simply the nanny. Are the lines getting blurred? Maybe. Max makes me feel like part of his little family unit. Over the past couple of months, we’ve become a close-knit trio, and if I’m honest, I love it.

While I feel like I’m crossing some sort of boundary when I think of Max and Caroline as my family, I also realize that it would be difficult to think of them as anything else. Unlike my other positions, I live here and am submerged in life with these people twenty-four hours a day. The definition of family is a fluid one, but I’d have to say it feels right.

But romance—or, more accurately, orgasms—can’t be part of the definition. It will only make things so much more complicated.

---