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“I will, but I’d like to take a shower first.”
I hold out a section of my hair, noting how dirty it is. I haven’t washed it in days, and it’s damp with sweat. It’ll be nice when it’s clean and silky again.
It’s a good thing I’m not trying to impress Dylan or anything.
He shakes his head. “There’s no way I’m letting you take a shower when you were having a difficult time standing on your own earlier. What about taking a bath instead?”
“A bath sounds nice. You know, Dylan, you’re very good at compromising,” I say playfully.
“I’ve had lots of practice.” He grins. “I’ll be right back.” He gets up and goes into the master bathroom. Moments later, I hear the water running.
He reappears and effortlessly carries me into the bathroom, placing me on the marble countertop.
“Thank you… aren’t you going to leave?” I ask when he doesn’t move.
“I thought you could use some help with getting into the bathtub.”
I roll my lip between my teeth, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions crashing over me. While I could probably manage to wash my hair on my own, it would be much easier with help.
I’m embarrassed that my body is weak and shaky, and I’m not used to relying on someone to help with something so simple. It complicates things when the person is the hot single dad next door, and the man I shared a scorching hot kiss with the last time I saw him.
This situation is making it more difficult to ignore the brewing chemistry between us. Not to mention this would be the first time Dylan sees me naked.
Wait… The first time?
Evidently my subconscious hasn’t got the memo that I’m sick and is scheming up additional scenarios where Dylan and I find ourselves in compromising positions that tempt our self-control.
My eyes dart between Dylan, who’s patiently waiting for my reply, and the steam rising from the hot bathwater.
My mouth runs dry. “You can stay, but I’m keeping my bra and panties on. And I reserve the right to kick you out at any time,” I warn him.
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he says wryly. “You’re in control here. Say the word and I‘m gone,” he adds after a beat.
We’re playing with fire, but I can’t bring myself to ask him to leave.
18
DYLAN
THIS IS A REALLY BAD idea.
Why the hell did I suggest I stay with Marlow while she took a bath?
Because she’s sick and needs your help.
Tell that to my rock-hard cock straining against my boxer briefs while I watch her pull her shirt over her head, revealing a lilac lace bra. Her breasts spill out over the top, evoking an image of her straddling me while I worship her perfect tits. I force myself to avert my gaze before she catches me gawking.
You’d think that Marlow being both off-limits as the nanny and a decade younger than me would tamp down my attraction, but it seems to have the opposite effect.
The energy has shifted between us since that night at Willow Creek Café, and despite our best efforts to avoid the subject, the attraction between us is palpable. I can’t shake the sense that it’s only a matter of time before the dam breaks, unleashing the pent-up sexual tension between us.
“Could you help keep me steady while I step out of my shorts?” Marlow’s question snaps me out of my thoughts, and I blink at her, unsure if I heard her right.
“Uh, yeah… sure.” I stumble over my words.
“Thanks, I’m a little dizzy, so it’d be nice to have something to hold on to,” she hurries out.
“There’s no need to explain. I’m happy to help.” More than I should be. “Put your hands on my shoulders,” I direct her.
