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“It’s nice,” I offered, blinking away the indecent images of us in this same position but for a very different reason. “Very…sparkly.”
“Et-et-et!”
“Get,” Kennedy corrected. “You want to get this one?”
He jumped up and down, and she once again slanted her face up to me. I tipped my chin to the basket she held. “Well, looks like we’re painting our nails with sparkles next time.”
She grinned and dropped the tiny bottle in then resumed wandering the aisles. I followed, hands tucked into my pockets, happy to watch her in her element. She paused to test a perfume, dabbing it on her wrist and lifting it to her nose. She toggled her head side to side then held her arm out to Finn. “Give it a whiff, babes. Tell me if it smells good.”
My three-year-old had no interest in smelling the perfume and decided the shiny hair clips across the other aisle were more entertaining, so she offered me her wrist instead. “I need a signature scent,” she informed me. “What do you think of this one?”
I bent my head, barely touching my nose to her skin. Though I was tempted to drag my face along the length of her arm. She was so soft. “I like it,” I said, straightening, “but I like whatever you use better.”
“I don’t have any perfume on now.”
“But…” I sucked my lips between my teeth, knowing I was about to give myself away.
“But what?”
I lifted a casual shoulder. “You smell good. Like sugar and flowers.”
Her smile was so sweet it made my chest constrict. “That’s only my lotion and hair products.”
I spun to grab hold of Finn, mumbling, “It’s nice, whatever it is.”
We continued to weave through displays of makeup as Finn touched everything, putting them in the basket while Kennedy cheerfully explained each item to him.
“This mascara is the absolute best…”
“And that is an eye shadow palette. It’s like a rainbow, isn’t it?”
“That goes on your lips. It makes them wet and shiny.”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
She was Finn’s nanny.
I couldn’t think of her wet and shiny lips.
Wrapped around my cock.
No.
Absolutely not.
Finally, in the hair products section, she perused a few tubs and bottles for a couple of minutes until deciding on one.
“What is it?” I asked, peering over her shoulder.
“Hair mask. It’s for deep conditioning and helps damaged hair.”
Her hair didn’t appear damaged to me, but what did I know? I took it from her, adding it to the basket. “You ready to check out?”
“We’re not getting all this stuff,” she said, yanking on the handles of the basket as if to take it from me.
“Yeah, we are.”
“You told me you’d get me one thing. The hair mask.” When I didn’t let go of the basket, she tugged on it again. “That’s way too much.”
