Page 31 of Mr. Wolfe's Nanny

“You’ll be home tonight though? It’s Friday.”

“Wouldn’t want to miss the moment,” he says with a roguish wink.

I stare at my coffee to avoid Maria’s questioning look as he strides away while hiding my ridiculously huge grin.

∞∞∞

Now, the sleeping part of Sleepover Night is a bit subjective. The guys have their sleeping bags on the floor but Theo always leaves my room after the kids fall asleep and sometimes Ryder wakes and wants to go to his bed.

But by 7:30 every Friday night, we’re all in pajamas, a family-friendly movie is playing on my TV, the lights are dimmed with only the fairy lights twinkling and it’s peaceful. Theo’s even mentioned how the peacefulness offsets the work week for him. I’m glad. He needs less stress. Also, I find him as sexy in pajama pants and t-shirt as I do in those tailored suits of his.

It’s early November, a windy night with sleet pelting against the window when I wake from a nightmare shivering. I breathe in deep and my heart gives a contented sigh when I note the small, warm body beside me and the nightlight burning in the ensuite to remind me I’m not alone. The feelings of panic fade. It’s been several weeks since my last panic attack. I’m safe in my bed and Jill is here. I might want a little warm milk to soothe me back to sleep.

Carefully climbing out of bed, I note that Ryder’s still in his sleeping bag, snoring quietly. Theo’s already left for his room like usual.

Why does it bother me that he’s already gone? It’s better he goes, isn’t it? Being his escort for a banquet next weekend isn’t going to change anything. We’ve got our roles here, important roles we need to stick to.

Silently, I slip down the steps and glance towards Theo’s bedroom when I reach the second floor. His door is cracked open. He was probably half asleep when he stumbled down here. Is he resting peacefully now? I can’t blame him for preferring his bed to the sleeping bag.

I take a step towards his door, thinking I might shut it for him. From within his room, I hear a low sound, a familiar one. A moan. I take another step closer. My heart rate increases and heat blooms throughout my body. Another moan.

Is he having a nightmare? Or is it a good sort of dream and a pleasant variety of moaning?

Oh God, itisa good moan. I press my thighs together and my nipples pebble against my cami while I’m imagining what might happen if I were to step into his room, climb into his bed and help him out with those moans.

I lean against the doorway, considering doing that very thing until reason speaks up.Are you crazy?

I can’t stand here thinking about him like that! I hurry down the stairs to the kitchen leaving his bedroom and his quiet moaning behind.

15-Theo

Friday nights are both sweet and a sweet torment. I love this time with the kids away from school-day routines and work headaches, something the three of us didn’t have much of until Quinn came along.

But when I’m surrounded by Quinn’s alluring scent nonstop and treated to her bell-like laughter in the intimacy of her bedroom, it doesn’t make keeping a respectable distance with the beautiful nanny any easier.

And you think her being your date next weekend is going to help that?

She’s so great with my kids but I want to hold her in my arms again. What would Kathy think of that? I told myself no one could take my wife’s place and I meant it. That’s not changed… has it?

Tonight, I actually fell asleep for a short while in Quinn’s room before the sound of the sleet against glass woke me and had me stumbling down to my room.

Once I lay down in my bed though, I’m wide awake, picturing Quinn’s smile and recalling the warmth of her body as I moved inside her all those weeks ago. Christ. I’ve not been with a woman since her and I’m definitely feeling the lack every time I catch a glimpse of her in the hoodie and sleep shorts she wears on Sleepover Nights.

What’s she wearing under that hoodie? Anything? Nothing? Yes, I’ve fantasized about Quinn’s bedtime attire a good deal.

I shove down my boxers and tear off my t-shirt, figuring I’ll make short work of this and then fall back asleep. I think of her bewitching eyes staring up at me as she’d sucked my cock and find my rhythm. I’m no three-thrust wonder but it doesn’t take long when I’m this turned on, alright?

After I come, I wipe the mess off my stomach with some tissues and realize my cock wasn’t the only part of me which wanted some attention. I’m hungry. I was nearly late for Sleepover Night and popcorn’s all I’ve eaten. It’s after midnight but there’ll be something in the fridge.

I grumble at myself for apparently failing to close my door earlier. What if the kids had woken up? After berating myself, I quietly pad downstairs where someone’s rummaging around in the kitchen. Shit. I don’t want to be spotted by Julieta or Maria in only my boxers.

I peek around the corner and it’s neither lady. It’s Quinn, standing in front of the fridge, her lovely curves illuminated by the light within. This might be worse than being spotted by Julieta or Maria. This might be the stuff of my fantasies, too.

She’s pouring some milk into a saucepot when it occurs to me that standing here in the dark half-naked watching her is creepy behavior and she might notice me any second now and be startled. I don’t want to scare her. “Hey,” I say softly.

“Eeeekkkk!!”

So much for not scaring her.Are you trying to trigger another panic attack for this poor woman, you idiot?

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