I grip the countertop and exhale slowly.
What the fuck do I do now?
I head upstairs, passing the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, all of them spotless. Like some kind of meticulous little house elf came through and tidied everything up. And when I peek into Sawyer’s room, she’s curled up, fast asleep, peaceful.
Is it nice to come home to a clean house, have a warm meal waiting in the fridge, my kid showered and already in bed? Is it nice to not be anxious about the person who is filling in while I’m on the road or at practice?Hell yeah.
But I can find another nanny who can do all this too. That’s not why I’m reconsidering hiring Bri. I rub a hand over my face and head for the primary bathroom again. Twist the shower on, strip off my clothes, and step under the hot spray, trying to clear my head. That’s when I realize I forgot to pay Bri today.
I hop out of the shower and pull out my phone, quickly finding her account info and sending her the money virtually along with a quick text.
Seth: Sorry. Forgot to pay you before you left. You should have the money in your account now.
Bri: No problem. Here are a few more photos of Sawyer from today.
She sends five more photos. The first four are a mix of Sawyer at the grocery store with Bri and the two of them playing a board game before dinner. But the last one is just Bri. One I’m pretty sure she included by accident, obviously taken by Sawyer.
She’s standing in the backyard, laughing with a volleyball tucked against her side, smiling straight at the camera. The setting sun catches in her light brown hair, turning it gold around the edges, and her green eyes are practically sparkling.
I stare at the photo for much longer than I should. I think about Bri and what I’m going to do. Then I get back in the water and my hand moves down my chest, past my pelvis and lower. Before I know it, it’s wrapped around my hard cock, stroking and I’m thinking about that night a year ago. The way she laughed at my stupid sloth mask. The way my prosthetic teeth fell into her mouth when I kissed her, and she just fucking laughed like it didn’t phase her at all.
It wasn’t just her body. It was her energy. The lightness to her, the way she felt like a breath of fresh air when I was drowning in all the changes I was navigating. Of all the guys in that bar who were there that night, why did she choose me? Now it all makes sense. Why I was drawn to her then. Why I can’t seem to fire her now. Because she’s fucking... effervescent. She’s kind, attentive, tender and beautiful.
My grip tightens around my shaft as I picture her beneath me again. Her back arching off the mattress, thighs trembling, knees pulled tight to her chest while I spread her open and watch that pretty pussy take me like it was made for it. Wet. Slick. Glistening around my cock every time I pushed back inside her.
Fuck.Take some more of me, Bri. You can handle it. Don’t give up. Just like that, baby.
I can still hear the sounds she made. Those soft, breathless little noises that got more desperate the deeper I fucked her. Still remember the way she looked up at me like she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to hide from me or drag me closer. And the worst part is knowing how good she felt wrapped around me. Warm and tight and perfect enough that my body still aches for her almost a year later.
I drag my palm down my shaft again before lingering on the head of my cock that’s leaking.
Would she do it again? If I hired her, would she let me sleep with her again?
It’s a terrible thought one that I shouldn’t be fantasizing about since I know I’ll never act on it. But I still picture it. Stillfeelit because my cock knows that’s the only time that I’m ever going to have her again. In a memory.
When I finally come, the breath tears out of me in a rough gasp. I brace a hand against the tile, head bowed as I ride it out, water pounding against my skin while shame settles heavy in my chest as my seed paints the floor. And somehow, I don’t feel better afterward. If anything, I feel worse. There’s no relief. No satisfaction. Just a hollow ache knowing I’ll be doing this with my hand again tomorrow.
Because I can’t touch Brianna again. I know that now. Because everyone I touch, I ruin.
I towel off, raking a hand through my damp hair before collapsing into bed, staring at the ceiling. Because whether I like it or not, I already know what I’m going to do.
I’m keeping Brianna as Sawyer’s nanny.
Not totouch.
Not to fuck.
Just to admire from a distance. To protect but not act on, because I’m not screwing anything up for Sawyer, my career, or Bri, again.
Chapter 11 – Brianna
“You need to be doing these exercises at home, too,” I caution Penn, one of the forwards on theManhattan Mayhemstarting lineup who’s currently sprawled across my treatment table at the facility like he’s lounging on a beach instead of rehabbing a sprained wrist with me.?
I continue palpating the joint, my fingers pressing along the tendons, feeling for any lingering tightness or instability. It’s healing, but not fast enough. And it won’t get better if he doesn’t put in the work outside this room. I’m also going to request that he sit out for one more week. I know he won’t. Their home opener is this weekend, and all the guys are eager to show off for their fans. I’ve become used to this with athletes. All I can do is pass the recommendation to Coach and hope someone listens.
Picking up the resistance ball we’ve been using, I hold it out to him. “Do the squeezing exercises again but this time slower and with more control.”
Penn grins as he takes it, and that grin tells me everything. Whatever he’s about to say is going to be completely unhinged. I’ve learned that much about him after working with him the past year during my internship. He’s the team’s resident flirt, the guy with a joke for every occasion, always pushing boundaries, never caring if he makes people uncomfortable.
