By the time we have cleaned up from lunch, it’s getting late. Landon looks at his watch and tells the boys to say goodbye and go to the door to get their coats. Not surprisingly, my mom shuffles after them to help, which leaves me alone with Landon.
“You are one stubborn lady, aren’t you,” Landon asks me while stepping into my personal space again.
“You have no idea.” I smirk.
“It feels like I’m about to find out,” he replies.
“Today was just a taste.” My tongue swipes across my lips, and his eyes darken.
Then he sighs and shakes his head at me. “I’m sure it was, but my problem is I’m now picturing what else is being offered on the menu. Because I’m supposed to be fasting.” His hand lands softly on my jaw.
“That’s such a shame because I heard the chef is preparing a feast, so you might want to think about how much it will hurt you to break that fast—just this once.” If his kids weren’t in earshot, I wouldn’t be talking in code, and he would know exactly what I’m offering.
“You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you, temptress?” He tightens his grip on my jaw in a way that I like, confirming what I have been imagining. If I can ever get this man to let down his guard, I won’t be walking for a week.
I gently place my hand on his chest, and as he slowly lets go of my jaw, I reach up on my toes, and in the sexiest voice I can muster, whisper in his ear, ”Possibly.”
I hear him almost whimper as I softly drag my tongue down his neck before I pull away.
“Fuuuuck,” he mutters under his breath.
“Time to decide if you’re going to sit on the sidelines for the rest of your life, Landon, or if you’re ready to jump into the fire.See you tomorrow in my nanny outfit,” I tease, before walking toward the front door where the boys are putting on their coats.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he cautions me, but I’m not convinced he really means it.
Who am I kidding? The moment he leaves, I’m pulling out my phone and googling the nearest sex shops in Boston that stock slutty nanny costumes.
He talks the talk, but now it’s time to see if it really is me who might make him finally walk the walk again.
I wonder if it will be fun to heal the weary soul. Or am I purchasing a ticket to the fire in hell?
Either way.
Chapter Five
LANDON
It’s been three days since Poppy and Mrs. B started caring for the boys, and it looks like the Christmas fairy has vomited all through my house.
There are paper chains hanging up, drawings taped to walls, Santas and reindeers made from toilet rolls on shelves, and containers of Christmas cookies in the kitchen. According to Poppy, I don’t ooze enough Christmas spirit, so she and the boys are determined to smother me in it.
The days have fallen into a good rhythm, and I’m not surprised, the way the boys absolutely adore Poppy. She is like her mother; kind, caring and willing to give them all the female attention they crave. I’m also craving all sorts of attention from Poppy, but so far, I’ve managed to keep some distance between us.
But it almost kills me when I arrive home at night to find her curled up on my couch, wrapped in one of Nash’s blankets that he insists she use. She has given up layering clothes over top of her pajamas when she comes over, and instead, just throws ona big overcoat as she moves between the houses. So, every night I’m treated to different Christmas pajama sets that reveal more than I should see of my kids’ temporary nanny. Especially last night when I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra, and by the time I came home, a couple of the buttons on her sleep shirt had come undone. I don’t know if she was just cold, or if it was from whatever she was dreaming about, but her nipples were hard underneath her shirt that was puckering around them, and I couldn’t look away. She gave me not only an eyeful of cleavage, but a glimpse of a tattoo above her left breast. I couldn’t see enough to make out what it was, but there is something hot about her having a hidden story to tell.
I might have managed to pull back from her, but this new arrangement has done nothing to tamp down the lust and desire raging inside of me. I’ve spent the last few nights jerking off in the shower after she leaves my house and heads home to bed. I imagine what she must look like under those pajamas, how she would taste on my tongue, and the feel of her skin under my fingers as I explore her—her tight little pussy pulsing around me as I fuck the orgasm out of her. And that’s the point in my fantasy when I moan her name as I come all over my shower floor. In that moment, in my mind it’s just her and me, and a joy I haven’t felt in a long time.
But by the time I’ve dried myself and climbed into bed, the guilt has filtered back into my thoughts again. Lucinda’s parents have repeatedly told me that she would want me to move on, but I just don’t know how to do that without leaving the memories of our life behind. My mind might be stuck and unable to move on, but I’m starting to understand that my body is ready and getting more impatient by the day.
Having a temptress living next door will do that to a guy.
Hearing the knock on the front door, I know it will be Poppy, just in time for me to leave for work at four o’clock.
But the moment I open the front door, I get more than I bargained for.
Poppy is standing on the doorstep wearing a gingerbread-man onesie and carrying a bag that has the same material spilling out of the top.
I can’t do anything other than shake my head and start to laugh. A phenomenon I thought I had lost.
