Page 78 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
I smile through my tears. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”
There’s a pause on the line, and then Sienna exhales, the sound equal parts relief and exhaustion. “Thank God.”
I laugh, a wet, shaky sound. “Yeah. Thank God.”
After a few more minutes of chatter, laughter, and shared relief, I hang up, the tension in my body finally starting to unravel. My chest feels lighter, my shoulders less tight. But I’m still shaking. The kind of tremble that only eases when the storm has passed, but your body hasn’t quite caught up.
I glance toward the stairs where Jace has disappeared off to. In the living room, Beck and Zane reunite with their wives, Daisy sandwiched between Ella and Hank. Ella meets my eyes, and for the first time since the attack, she looks genuinely happy and relieved. She nods at me—a gesture of acceptance and forgiveness.
Knowing Daisy is in good hands, I head upstairs, each step pulling me closer to him, to the man who’s risked everything for me. The man who promised to keep me safe and kept his word.
By the time I reach the bathroom door, the mirror is fogged, steam curling through the crack. I take a breath, shaky but sure, and reach for the handle.
Then, without another thought, I step inside.
30
JACE
Steam curls thickly around the bathroom, warm and heavy, almost drowning out the world outside. I lean against the tiles, water sluicing over my shoulder, mind still buzzing from the mission, the graze, the tension of the night.
Then I feel her. Pressing close, her hands trailing across my chest, tracing the lines of muscle I didn’t realize I’d missed so much until now. She smells like lavender and that subtle hint of herself that always makes me forget everything else.
“Thank you for keeping your promise,” she murmurs, her lips brushing my collarbone. “Thank you for coming back home safe.”
I inhale sharply, letting her words sink in, let them steady the adrenaline still thrumming through my veins. I grab her wrist gently, turning her to face me. Her eyes are bright, soft, filled with that mixture of relief and desire I know all too well.
She doesn’t hesitate, leaning in, kissing me fully—lips and teeth, mouth and tongue, claiming me like she’s been waiting for this moment as long as I have. And maybe she has.
My hands find the curve of her hips, pulling her flush against me. Every nerve fires. Every worry, every fear, every scar from the night melts under her touch.
“God, Tess…” I groan against her mouth, shivering as her hands explore me, memorizing, grounding.
“Jace,” she rasps out as my teeth and lips mark her neck and chest.
“I’m here, baby,” I smile as my mouth finds one of her nipples.
She arches her back to my lips and pulls my head closer. I wrap my lips around one of her nipples and tug, making her moan out loud. I pull back, watching as she pouts at me for the lack of contact. I smile and guide her back to the wooden bench installed against one of the glass walls for my support.
“Sit.”
She does so without question, watching as I kneel at her feet, taking her legs and placing them on my shoulders, exposing her to me. She gasps when she realizes what I’m about to do andleans back on the glass, her chest rising in anticipation. Her bare pussy calls out to me, her pink wet clit leaking with juices.
I kiss her thighs, trailing kisses from her knees to the apex of her thighs, alternating between each leg.
“Jace, please,” she begs, pulling my head closer to where she wants me.
Unable to deny her or me any longer, my mouth finds her clit. I don’t waste a moment, lapping up her juices like the thirsty man that I am. Her thighs tighten around my neck as her pleasure increases, and I don’t mind it as I keep enjoying my meal.
“More, please,” she begs.
I oblige to her request as I carefully sink one of my digits into her wet, warm pussy. Knowing she can take more, I add a second finger and begin finger-fucking her, my tongue flicking her pink nub.
We lose track of everything except each other. Water splashes down over us, hot and relentless, masking our sounds, the heat amplifying everything—every gasp, every moan, every hungry whisper.
It’s messy, it’s urgent, it’s perfect. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel truly… alive.
“I’m close,” she chokes out, but I can already tell from the tightening of her stomach muscles.
