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Chapter One
Jude
Iswallow the shot of whiskey in my mouth and try to cope with two facts: the nanny’s barely legal breasts bounce beautifully in that Baywatch wannabe bathing suit she’s teased me with this summer. And two, there’s not enough liquor on this planet to erase the luscious, all-too-fuckable dream of a creature from my fantasies.
Despite what my daughter thinks of me, at thirty-six, I’m too damn old for an innocent woman like Peyton. I work out and judging from all the panties that get thrown on stage when I’m performing with my bandCrush, women find me attractive. But that doesn’t close the sixteen year age gap between me and the nanny.
For that matter, nor does it change that I am, however, seriously lusting after the one woman that I can’t have. It’s such a cliché especially in the glittery town of Los Angeles. Many of the men I know have no problem fucking their family’s live-in nannies. Several names come to mind for those who passed on having a sweet, delectable treat like Peyton under their roofs for that very reason. She's a walking temptation any man would find hard to resist…and my control can’t take that much more either.
Until I hired Peyton, I didn’t understand why it was hard to stay away from a nanny. After all, they were stodgy, buttoned-up and boring.
Not Peyton.
Now I understand what all the hell-raising was about. Sure she’s young and has the body made for sex, but she’s also the most genuine person I’ve come across in a long damn time. When she smiles any room she’s in becomes an extension of heaven on earth.
And seeing how she’s a cock tease without even trying, it could be said I learned the hard way.
As a newly minted twenty-year-old, my little girl’s nanny got it into her head LA would be better for her than the Midwest. Maybe all the snow convinced her the grass is greener across the Rockies. If so, I can’t say I blame her. My parents were sunshine and sand people so it’s no surprise I ended up that way too. I’ve been all over the world and I still spend every Christmas and every other vacation in my childhood home in the Bahamas.
I pour another shot of whiskey and grit past the tight burn down the back of my throat. Peyton’s velvety honey eyes and freshly sun-kissed California skin has my cock ready to pound nails. She’s flashing a sweet smile at some asshole walking down the beach who doesn’t deserve to know her beauty. Seeing her face light up in the fading sunlight reminds me of her delicate laugh that has me wanting to write love ballads or something.
Peyton starts up the long stairs leading from my rear balcony to the beach, her curvy body swaying with each step. She has some kind of gloss on her lips that catches like bubble gum stars in the fading sunlight.
“Damn.” I groan. The juicy look of those plump lips pulls drops of pre-cum from the crown of my dick and I’m reminded once again—the nanny might be sweet as sugar, but underneath all that innocence is a sexy streak that I’m dying to possess. I want to take my time and pull all her inner passion to the surface, devour her and claim that delectable body as mine. I want to know her screams of passion when I feed her every inch of my big cock.
Right now, she has stopped midway to the house, looking back at the white caps churning a short distance from shore. From this angle I can see her face pulled into a frown and her shoulders pressed inward like a woman about to crumble under the weight of the world—and I want to pick up those pieces.
It’s a private moment and I should turn away, yet here I am up in my master suite, spying on her like a foolish teenager who has never seen a woman before.
It’s safer that way. From up here, I see how she makes my cock suffer. The only way to relieve the pressure is to take cold showers and stroke one off. In these close quarters, it’s a multiple times a day occurrence because I’m in a near-constant state of arousal from her sweet ass and creamy tits I crave to lick and suck. That damn bathing suit does nothing to control the sexy sway of her breasts, either. I’ve daydreamed all day about pulling from her sweet pussy and spilling my cream all over those tight little buds of her nipples—mark her as mine.Onlymine. What can I say, I’m a selfish bastard who doesn’t like to share.
I slam my eyes closed. I’m wary of acting on any of my desires, though. To be honest, my cock has gotten me into trouble before. Back when I first came to LA, there was a staggering amount of pussy surrounding me. Looking back, it’s no surprise I hooked up with a model and aspiring actress. Inevitable, really when you think about it. I was young and stupid. At the time, I didn’t think anything about it, neither of us was serious about the other. We were both single looking for a good time. Our daughter Lila resulted from that fling, and life changed after her arrival. Lila will be six next month, and looking back, I admit becoming a father at the age of thirty forced me to mature fast for her sake.
It didn’t take long to realize how little my ex, Amber, and I had in common besides our beautiful daughter. Nowadays Lila is the center of my world, and because of her I need to be smarter about my relationships.
Caution has brought me back to my Bahamas childhood home this weekend while Amber marries some A-list actor with a nasally voice and a pathetic beard on a nearby island. My band members and I just wrapped up a world tour that has me longing for some quiet time and not another soul in sight for a few days outside my inner circle.
Less than twelve hours after landing back in LA, I gathered up Lila and Peyton and we arrived in the Bahamas via my private jet last night. I can already feel my tense muscles relax. Coming here was a good move. So was hiring Peyton. Despite Amber’s bitching about needing an older nanny, Lila has never looked happier than when she’s with Peyton.
Because of that fact, I situate my dick to where the teeth of my zipper can’t dig into the sensitive flesh and tell myself one more time I have to keep my fucking hands off the nanny.
For the last time, I cannot mess this up. Not only for Lila’s sake but because I made a promise to Peyton’s brother when I signed her on to work for me.
Oliver is a true friend, and in LA it’s not like you can pick up a friendship like ours on a street corner. He got his start with Amber as an extra then turned personal assistant when the gigs stopped rolling in. Since he helped plan the monstrosity of a wedding Amber calls it the event of the century, Oliver will be at the wedding, too. I plan on using the man as my eyes and ears to help me watch over Lila since her mother will be busy being the center of attention.
On the way here I was hesitant to let Lila go to the wedding without Peyton or me accompanying her, but Amber picked Lila up and whisked her off to the celebrations while I was off settling a few bills that lapsed in my absence.
I know my ex is trying to use our daughter to impress her new husband with her maternal instincts. I don't know which is worse, that I thought Amber would discover those same instincts naturally after finding out Lila was on the way, or the fact the poor sap she’s marrying now will discover the ugly truth the way I did...after the fact.
Experience has shown me Amber doesn’t have any maternal instincts to speak of. Because of that, I made sure I’m only a few islands away in case Lila comes back early, which is fine with me.
In fact, I’d prefer it.
It’d help distract me from Peyton’s sensual, cock-teasing curves.
“I’m leaving now, Mr. Hawkins.” The housekeeper's voice travels up the large winding stairs. Her words pull me back from the window, and I let the curtain fall as I walk away. Peyton should be back inside soon. She needs to be careful. A Midwesterner like her is not used to how fast the weather changes here. And out in California, it’s all varying degrees of sunshine.
This close to sunset, the July wind has picked up as it always does in the Bahamas. Multiple shades of pinks and purples swallow the sky with a coming storm. I smirk at how pissy the turn of weather will make Amber. Low of me, yeah, but still. She never did plan. Liked to live life by the seat of her three-hundred dollar silk designer panties.
