Page 249 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
After it was over, he’d shaken the man’s hand. He’d looked the bloke square in the eyes and wished him well.
That’s the thing about love—real love.
Once you let it in, it annihilates the bullshit. There’s no need to put on a facade. There’s no need to pretend.
Nothing is impossible when you believe in love.
Corny?
Maybe.
But it was the truth.
And here’s another truth.
That fight was his last.
And he had zero regrets about it.
Boxing had been good to him. It had given him purpose and made him a bloody fortune. It was how he met Mere, and it’s what led him to Libby. But there was a wide world out there, and he happily traded his career in professional boxing to be a devoted father, loving partner, and community volunteer, coaching kids at the Helping Hands community center’s boxing gym.
The next phase of his life started now.
And that phase included getting down to business—the deliciously dirty kind—with the woman who held his heart in her hands.
“We should be taking notes…about this setting,” Libby got out, gasping for breath as he worked the prototype of the revolutionary hand-held massager, aka, the Wham, Bam, Thank You, Libby Lamb deluxe vibrator—soon to be available in an array of empowering colors.
They were partial to the indigo-colored device.
Not a shocker.
The blooming thing even came with a lovely little waterproof bag.
Talk about convenience.
Actually, he’d take a hard pass on talking about convenience. He had something hard of his own to take care of.
“We can skip the notes on this testing session, plum,” he said, giving his cock several hard pumps as he expertly drove her wild with the vibrator.
His fiancée whimpered. “Wham, bam, so many women are about to be thanking Libby Lamb when these come out.”
“Now, who’s the cocky beefcake?” he purred, desire flooding his system.
“Do you have a problem with cocky beefcakes?” she teased, then bit her bottom lip as she pushed up onto her elbows.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
She raised a hand and beckoned him with her index finger. “Get up here and finish the job like the beefcake you are.”
Challenge accepted.
And this may be a good time to note. It didn’t get any better than banging a yoga instructor. He lifted one of her legs, resting it over his shoulder, then turned his attention to the other. He gripped her inner thigh and pressed it into the bed, opening her like she was the sexiest clam ever to emerge from the ocean. With her long, flexible legs, the woman was a celebration of sensual angles. He lined up his cock at her entrance and slid in slowly as Libby concentrated on his thick shaft.
There was nothing hotter than watching her watch him as he filled her to the hilt.
He adjusted her leg on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to her knee, and rocked his hips. He penetrated her sweet center in long, steady strokes, pleasure building. Her lusty sighs fed a hunger deep within him, and he inhaled a tight breath. He had to hold back. This wasn’t an easy thing to do, balls deep inside a woman with an iron core. She tightened around his hard length, moving with him, but he controlled the pace.
He still maintained a pinch of cocky and a dash of alpha arrogance.
