Page 23 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
I groan, rolling onto my back, heart hammering. Damn her. Damn me. Damn this whole situation. Tossing the covers off me, I hit the shower, scalding water beating down hard enough topeel skin, but it doesn’t matter. I brace one hand against the tile, head low, and let myself think of her the way I know I shouldn’t.
Tessa, rain dripping off her, hair plastered to her neck, mud streaked across her throat. That stubborn fire in her eyes when she told me what to do, and I damn well listened. That’s the picture that won’t let me rest.
My other hand slides down, slow, deliberate. I wrap my fist around myself and squeeze, a groan catching low in my chest. I stroke once, twice, and the storm in my head roars back to life.
I picture her close, pressed against me in the dark, her breath hot in my ear. I picture my hands on her waist, mud on her skin, her thighs spread wide. The sounds she’d make if I buried my mouth between her legs, licked her until she broke open for me. My cock jerks in my grip at the thought.
I fuck my fist harder, faster, hips driving into the wet heat of my palm. Water sluices down my chest, steam blinding my eyes, but I don’t care. I’m lost in her, her lips wrapped around me, tongue teasing the head, voice whispering my name like a plea.
“Fuck,” I choke out, forehead hitting the tile.
I groan into the steam, letting my fantasies take over. She’s bold, untouchable, and yet, in my head, she’s mine—mine to chase, tease, drive insane. The heat of the shower mixes with the fire in me, and I swear I can almost feel her hands on me again, her whispers, the way she made me crave more without ever asking.
I let the fantasy stretch on, imagining every glance, every touch that left me breathless, every bit of her that’s burned into my memory. And even if it’s just in my head, it’s enough to make the steam feel hotter, water sharper, and every nerve in me sing her name silently.
My muscles lock, pleasure detonating sharp and brutal. I come hard, spilling into my hand, groaning her name through clenched teeth.
The shower keeps running, washing everything away, but it doesn’t wash her out of me. If anything, she’s deeper now, carved into me. And that scares the hell out of me almost as much as it makes me want her again.
I drag my palm over my face, groaning into the spray. I can’t let this become anything more. She’s not staying. She can’t. Her work should be winding down soon, and I cannot wait for her to leave and for peace to be restored once more.
But my body doesn’t know the rules my head keeps writing. My body just remembers how she looked in that lightning flash, fierce and untouchable. Even now, three weeks into her contract, I can’t look at her without remembering... everything.
That thought follows me out of the shower, clinging tighter than the steam.
Cussing under my breath, I tug my belt tight, telling myself I’m the CEO, the boss, the man in control. But the truth? I’ve never wanted to lose control like this before.
I finish getting dressed, but the thoughts don’t fade. She’s here, on my property, under my roof, doing her job, but every glance, every word exchanged between us feels like a spark threatening to ignite. I try to shake it off. Focus. I’ve got a ranch to run and a daughter to raise.
I throw on my boots and leave my bedroom, the wheelchair causing the floorboards to creak beneath me.
“Morning, Daddy!”
Daisy’s little voice snaps me out of my thoughts. She’s perched at the kitchen counter, cereal bowl in hand, eyes wide and bright.
“Morning, pumpkin,” I say, forcing a normal tone, brushing a hand through her hair. Her warmth hits me, grounding me in the real world. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah,” she chirps. “Are we going for a ride today?”
I nod, careful not to let the tension in my body betray anything else on my mind. “We might. But first, breakfast, then homework.”
It’s the weekend, so she doesn’t have school. Her nanny, Mercy, is supposed to be here already, but she’s texted me, letting me know that she’s running late. This is why I wanted a live-in nanny.
Daisy hums a tune, oblivious to the storm in my head, and I can’t help but grin. I sit with her and we enjoy breakfast together before I leave to get a start on my day.
The morning sun burns gold across the pasture, and I roll along the main barn aisle, scanning the herd. Everything’s in order—cattle tags matched, gates locked, feeders stocked. For once, I can afford a moment to breathe instead of rushing from crisis to crisis.
I glance toward the barn office and spot her—pink hair pulled back into a practical bun, eyes sharp behind those rectangular glasses, fingers flying over the keyboard. She’s leaned over the monitor, muttering under her breath as she traces lines of code and reroutes some system. The security grid looks tighter than Fort Knox now. I’ve seen her do this for the past few weeks, and every time, I feel that same mix of relief and disbelief: she’s good. Too good, maybe.
“Hey, Jace,” a voice calls, smirking.
I roll my eyes before turning my head to see Beck, leaning against the railing with that easy grin plastered across his face. “You planning to ogle her all day, or are we working?”
“Ogling her?” I snap, but I already know I’m trapped. Beck’s laughter fills the barn, loud and infectious.
“Come on, big brother,” he says, nudging me with his elbow. “You’ve been watching that nerdy pink-haired techie like a hawk. Admit it, you’ve got the hots for her.”
I snort, masking the heat creeping up my neck. “I don’t even...” I trail off, cursing silently. “I do notice things, how precise she is, how she solves problems without flinching under pressure, but that doesn’t mean...”
