Page 35 of Obsessed Mr. O’Brian

I sigh and wince as the bruises on my back and shoulders rub against his muscular arm.

“I need time to get to know Lola first. I can’t allow a relationship to distract me from giving her the best care possible,” I relent.

He hums an excited note and wraps his arms fully around Lola and me. She lifts her face from my chest just long enough to convey her annoyance before laying the side of her head back down in the same spot. Despite her antics, she fills one fist with my braid and the other with his shirt, including him in our morning cuddles.

I hope this continues as a normal routine. Even with the sexual undercurrent flowing between Artur and me and the aching of my bruised body, this is the most relaxed I’ve felt in years.

I shift to enjoy the feel of his hard thighs under mine and freeze in mortification as something harder pokes at me.

He brushes his lips over the shell of my ear and murmurs, “This is going to kill me, but if that’s what you need, then I’ll hold back for a little while.”

I swallow and pat Lola on the back while praying the rush of warmth between my legs doesn’t soak through to his sweatpants.

“Just don’t take too long, angel. I’ve never been very good at waiting,” he growls with the lightest nip to my ear.

I don’t stand a chance. Artur O’Brian already owns my body, heart, mind, and soul. He has since high school. I’ve thought of him every single day since the accident thirteen years ago.

But I can’t let him distract me from caring for his daughter. Lola already means too much to me to even think about failing her. She deserves the very best.

Guilt nibbles away at my insides. I shouldn’t prey on Regina’s man. She’s probably rolling over in her grave.

I pray for her forgiveness because there’s no way I can stop what’s coming.

I want Artur O’Brian too much to deny myself any longer. Even if Lola’s condition improves so much she no longer requires my level of care and he kicks me to the curb, I won’t regret exploring the pull between us.

I want to make Artur mine.

But Lola comes first. I take as deep a breath as I can without hurting my bruised ribs and focus on caring for the sweet, inquisitive little lady.

Chapter 12

Artur O’Brian

Unhappy to lose the tantalizing perfection of Millie’s ass in my lap but also unwilling to restrict my daughter’s movements, I sigh and carefully lift Millie off my lap.

As I settle them on the mattress beside me, Lola pops upright and wriggles before reaching for more of Millie’s braid. I watch with envy as my daughter stands and explores her nanny’s hair. As she pets and strokes and plays to her heart’s content, Millie sits with her lips curved in a serene smile.

After a few minutes, Lola’s awareness expands beyond the bed and she eyes the bag of toys Millie left for her near the window.

When Lola decides she’s done with Millie’s hair, she smooshes her face in thanks and toddles across the bed.

I lunge forward to catch her, but Millie is already there, except instead of snatching her up and setting her safely on the floor like I always do, she guides Lola to turn around and drop onto her belly. When I realize she intends to let her scoot feet first off the mattress, I grab her shoulder and put my hand on Lola’s back.

Shame rips through me as Millie cringes in pain. I loosen my grip then remove my hand completely as I glimpse the dark purplish bruise under her collar.

“That’s not safe. What if she messes up her g-port?” I snarl.

Millie puts her hand over mine on Lola’s back. The comforting touch lacks any judgment. My alarm fades away, and I listen to her with rapt interest. She enchants me with her tantalizing lips and supportive energy.

“She has no tubes connected, her button is closed properly, and she’s wearing a dress designed to protect her port.” Lola lifts her head to glare at me and wriggles under our hands. “Teaching her how to safely get down on her own can prevent her from fall injuries in the future and offers her more independence. She’s ready to learn, Mr. O’Brian.”

I squint in displeasure at her choice of address but decide to let it go since I just agreed to give her time. When I glance down to check my squirmy daughter, Millie’s cleavage steals my attention. My mouth waters. I praise Lola’s fixation on burying her face as far between the creamy globes as possible. Because of her, Millie’s top button remains open. Hunger throbs along the base of my spine and tightens my balls. Millie lifts her hand off mine and grabs the parted fabric. I clear my throat and struggle to remember my concern.

Lola complains and kicks her legs.

“What if she uses her new skills to run away again? I already struggle when she’s on the floor,” I grumble.

“The more you encourage her to be independent, the more confidence she’ll have.”