Chapter 10

"S omething is weird with you today," Kolt says, eyeing me over as we all head from the arena. "Don't get me wrong; you're usually a goofy fuck, but this is next level."

"Yeah, I see it too," Smith Sawyer, one of the Sharks defensemen, agrees. "You giggled like a little schoolgirl all practice too. Even when Coach was yelling at you, you had a dumbass grin on your face."

"Yeah, he did." Kolt chuckles. "All damn day, he's looked like a thirteen-year-old boy who just saw his first set of boobies." He pauses, looking suspicious. "Matter of fact, he's looked like that all week."

"Ain't nothin' different about me, fellas." I shrug, keeping my duffel bag slung over my shoulder. "Just excited for this season."

"Come to think of it, it's been since he went to that damn amusement park," Ryder pipes in, reaching out for the door handle on his truck. His eyes narrow, and then a grin spreads across his face.

Quickly, I head toward my truck. "Later, fellas. See you tomorrow."

"You're bumpin' uglies with the nanny, aren't you?" Ryder calls behind me. "It's all adding up now, boys."

"Oh shit! He totally is," Smith howls.

I keep walking until I reach my truck, still hearing them hooting and hollering behind me. My hand reaches for the door, but I glance back at them. "Y'all are crazy," I say with a shake of my head. "See you tomorrow."

They all pile into their trucks, all but Kolt, who is parked right next to me.

He leans against the truck door. "Hey, man, kinda perfect, isn't it?"

"What is?" I say, confused.

"Well, aside from hockey, you hate to be away from home. But you're a man. You obviously got you some needs." He grins. "Now, you can get those needs met right at home." He turns, pulling his door open. "If you ask me, it's genius."

Holding up my hand, I flip him off. "Whatever, asshole. I'm not fucking my kid's nanny, okay? Would I? Fucking right, I would. But have I? No, I have not."

"You've done something with her. Or you're just really, really into the girl," he mutters. "You're always annoying, but the past week? You've been a whole other level of goofy." He grimaces. "If I have to hear another dad joke, I might cut my own ears off."

"They are funny though," I call back. "And you know it."

"Dude, no. Your jokes are fucking terrible." He shakes his head before holding his hand up. "Catch you later, Sterns. Go on home and say hello to the nanny, why don't you?" He pauses. "And tomorrow, try to leave your lame-ass jokes at home."

"No can do, my friend. They are in a dad -a-base. They go where I go."

He doesn't say anything; he just gives me a harsh glare and shakes his head again.

Once he closes his door, I get in my truck and do the same. I turn the key in the ignition, firing the truck to life, and shift it into drive.

Kolt is married, but he and his wife are separated. He doesn't say much about it, but from what I've gathered, she wants the divorce; he doesn't. So, he hasn't signed the papers, even though it's been over a year since she served him with them.

I don't think he's ever been the same since that day. He's grumpy and on edge all the time. I mean, hell, even my jokes don't cheer him up.

He and the guys are right though. I've been in an exceptionally good mood this week. It's been four days since I finger-fucked Maci on my desk and felt her pussy quiver around me, and even though I've flirted with her, she's been stone-cold back. She's polite, but she doesn't want anything to do with round two.

Not yet anyway. She'll be needy again. Or it'll come time for her to write another spicy scene in her book and she'll come knocking on my door.

Will I be ready? Fuck yes, I will.

"One … two … free …" Amelia yells before jumping into the water, just like she did at least ten times before. Her head bobs back up, her floaties keeping her upright. A huge grin spreads from ear to ear. "Did you see that one? That one was so big!"

"It was! The biggest splash yet, I'd dare to say!" I lift her up and spin her around.

She puts her face closer to mine, wrapping her arms around me. "Maci, can you stay here forever?"

Caught off guard, I just stare at her for a second. Unsure of what to say or how to say it. The past few weeks, I've been with her more than anyone. And truthfully, I can't imagine it any other way right now. But this can't go on forever. Can it?

"I'm not leaving anytime soon, kiddo." I hug her back before dipping her down in the water and lifting her back up a few times. "Now, what do you say? Want to show me another cannonball?"

Quickly, she nods her head and begins to slowly paddle her way toward the stairs. Reaching out, I give her a slight push to help her get there faster, and within seconds, she's jumping in again. Her giggles warm my heart, and I wish I could bottle them up and release them on a day when I'm feeling down. Those days seem to be growing further apart now that I'm here with Amelia and Logan. And now, I'm scared that when he does move on, I will lose my job.

Most places in New England close their outdoor pools on Labor Day weekend. Yet here Amelia and I are, swimming in Logan's pool, which is set to a comfortable eighty-five degrees.

I would hate to pay his heating bill.

Never did I imagine I'd get a job where I could swim in an in-ground pool next to the ocean, yet here I am. The ocean has always been a calming force for me. So much so that, sometimes, I find places to write that give me a view of it. And I just breathe in that salty smell and feel that light breeze that instantly brings me peace.

The location of this house is perfect for writing, and for the past few afternoons, after Logan has come home to be with Amelia, I've brought my laptop outside, sat in one of the lounge chairs, and typed. It's best that I'm not inside, where he can see my cheeks heat. After all, for some of the time, I was rewriting our encounter in my office. But yesterday, after that scene was written and the characters moved on to something less … sexy, I found my mind traveling back to what would come next when they were intimate again. And as much as I don't want to admit it, I need Logan to be the one to map that out.

Truthfully, I love being here even though I know I can't avoid going back to my apartment forever. Eventually, the men who broke into my apartment are going to get arrested. I hope so anyway. And the chances they'll come back to the scene of the crime are low, I'm sure. That should make me feel better, but still, I'm not ready to go back there yet.

Clyde comes to the edge of the pool, looking over into the water.

"Don't even think about it," I holler at him.

Slowly, he backs away and lies in the shade. But not before sulking the whole way there.

My focus is between Amelia, who's about to jump in again, and Clyde, making sure he stays put, when all of a sudden, a huge flash of sculpted abs and black shorts rushes toward the pool.

"Cannnnnonball!" Logan yells loudly seconds before his huge-ass body hits the water, splashing me right in the face.

This dude is a child.

I shake my head as he surfaces, an enormous grin on his face, and I can't stop myself from smiling. Especially when he swims toward Amelia and scoops her up, tossing her gently back into the water. She squeals in delight before she swims back to him, wrapping her tiny little arms around his neck.

"I missed you, Daddy."

"I missed you more." He brings his forehead to hers. "Did you have a good day?"

Her nod is exaggerated, and her eyes are wide. "We painted, and … and … we walked on the beach. And now, we … are … swimming!" Her expression changes, and she looks put out. "Maci said I couldn't have dirty pudding until you got home, in case you wanted one too."

His eyes find mine, twinkling with amusement. "Dirty pudding, huh, Miss Maci?"

"Dirt pudding. You know, pudding. Worms. Crushed Oreos," I explain.

"Whipped cream, too?" he says with a smirk, and I know my nipples harden.

"Um, y-yeah. Yes." I nod. "Why wouldn't there be whipped cream with pudding?"

"Just wanted to check, you know." He winks before turning his attention back to his daughter. "What do you say, girl? Should we do a cannonball competition?" He jerks his chin toward me. "All of us."

"Yes!" she practically screams before pushing off her dad. "But I'm going first!"

"All right, deal. Youngest to oldest," he drawls slowly, his eyes shifting to mine. "Looks like you're last, Granny."

I roll my eyes. "I'm, like, a year older. Calm down."

"Daddy, Maci … look at me!" Amelia calls out, standing on the edge of the pool. Once she sees we're both looking, she smiles proudly before she starts her countdown.

Suddenly, Logan is behind me, and every single part of me feels how close he is.

"You're going down, Boston. And I don't mean that in the way I wish I did," he coos into my ear just before Amelia lands in the water.

A shiver runs down my spine, and goose bumps pepper my skin.

"Good job, baby!" he yells, clapping his hands.

She beams at him, giving him a tiny thumbs-up before she starts to swim toward the stairs.

He plants his hands on my hips, sliding along my skin underwater. His fingertips knead my flesh before his mouth dips to my ear again. "That bathing suit sure shows off those nipples, Mace." He leans over my shoulder further. "And look at you, so turned on just from having me this close to you." He tsks me. "You can keep pretending like you don't want a round two, but those tits say otherwise." He looks at his daughter, making sure she isn't paying attention before his mouth is over my ear; this time, he gently nips my lobe. "I know that if we weren't already in a pool, that pussy would be soaked." He grumbles the words into my ear, gripping my waist harder.

"Your turn, Daddy!" Amelia calls before jumping off the steps.

One hand drags from my waist, stopping at my ass. I have to force myself to hold still and not squirm around at his touch, but it's hard. Really, really hard.

Releasing me, he swims toward the steps to take his turn.

And, dammit, now, all I can think about are his filthy words and his hands on my body.

"Didn't take her long to fall asleep after all the sun you two got today," Logan drawls, strutting into the kitchen, where I'm cleaning up dinner. "I only made it halfway through Dragons Love Tacos , and she was out."

I smile because I could hear him reading the book to her, acting out every single page and making his voice loud in certain parts. He was totally in his element. I've been to one of his games, but I didn't know who he was at the time, nor did I know any other men on the ice. And while I hear he's one of the NHL's top players right now, I think his number one talent is being a good dad.

"Yeah, I figured she'd sleep good after those cannonballs." I spray some cleaner on the counter and wipe it with a rag, getting the few pieces of crushed Oreos from the surface.

After dinner, we ate dirt puddings, and I'm not sure who enjoyed that more—Amelia or Logan. Because that guy? He had two and scoffed them down in record time.

"I was thinking, if you're okay with it, I could take her to swim lessons. My sister and I started really young, and my parents swear by early introduction to water." I pause, chuckling. "Although she's certainly already comfortable in the water."

I glance up at him to find him looking puzzled before he takes a water from the refrigerator.

"What days would they be?"

"They start this Monday, and it's one day a week for six weeks."

"You'd do that with her?" he says, sounding surprised.

"Of course I would." I realize that maybe I'm overstepping. "Unless you want to do it. I can look at what other days they have or even get a private instructor to come here." I debate saying the next part, but the thing with Logan is, he really does always want the best for his daughter. "I just figured if it was in a group setting, she could see other kids her age, you know? But if not, I totally understand."

"No, no." He gives me a quick shake of his head. "I think you're right. I mean, she needs to be around other kids sometimes. And that's hard. She's starting preschool next year, and she hasn't ever really been in a group setting." He looks thoughtful. "I think it's a great idea, Maci. Thank you."

"For what?" I whisper.

"For caring enough about her to think about stuff like that." He shrugs. "I do the best I can, but sometimes … I just don't think of that shit, you know?"

"I think you're doing damn good, Logan," I say honestly, but when his eyes meet mine and I feel that fire inside of me begin to burn, I quickly look away. "Oh, something was delivered to you today." I suddenly remember the package that was dropped off this morning. "I put it in the entryway."

For a moment, I feel his stare remain on me until he eventually wanders into the entryway, returning shortly after with the box.

Grabbing a knife from the cupboard, he cuts the tape and opens the box. Right away, a grin takes over his whole face as his eyes find the contents, and I can't lie … I'm curious myself.

Taking out a book, he holds it up to me, and I read the title.

" Best Dad Jokes of All Time ," I say before raising my eyebrows and breathing out a laugh. "Yeah, you sure need that."

Then, he takes out some sort of handmade ticket, looking it over and laughing as he shakes his head. "Wow, what a dick my brother is."

He passes it to me, and I see the messy handwriting on the ticket, which says Ticket to the Stanley Cup .

"Turn it over," Logan says, and I do.

*Happy birthday, big brother. I figured I'd make you this ticket to the Stanley Cup because it's likely your only chance of ever getting there.

—Link

All jokes aside …

I mean it.

He continues pulling a few more things out, like a Los Angeles Kings sweatshirt with a tiny matching one for Amelia, before he takes out a card.

He tears it open, reading the front before flipping to the inside. He takes out a gift certificate of some sort before he looks up at me. "Looks like we're going to Disney World with my brother, his wife, and their son in the spring."

My heart lurches into my throat because, well, that's a long time away. He probably meant him and Amelia. Not me too.

Suddenly, I panic. "Wait, is today your birthday?" I drag my hand down the back of my neck. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I had no idea."

"No, it isn't," he answers, and I instantly relax. "It's tomorrow. Link is just an extreme type-A personality who has to have everything done beforehand."

"Tomorrow?" I blurt out.

Right then, I know I have to have Amelia help me make him a cake. I'm not sure if his family comes over or anything for his birthday normally. I mean, I know Link doesn't because he's on the other side of the country, but his father or other two brothers? I have no idea.

All at once, he's stepping toward me, his body crowding mine against the countertop when he leans around me and grabs something. As he holds up the can of whipped cream, his eyes darken. "This needs to go in the refrigerator before it goes bad."

He doesn't move or back away. He stands over me, making my heart race from his closeness.

Dipping his head down, he brings his lips closer to mine. "That is, unless you feel like acting out another filthy scene, M. McKenzie. Because I'll tell you right now, I have all kinds of ideas."

I gulp at the mention of my pen name, melting into the countertop, his lips less than an inch from mine.

"We shouldn't," I utter, feeling guilty. "Amy asked me if I could stay forever today, Logan. And while I know I can't stay forever, if you and I do this … it'll get complicated very fast."

"Then, let's not let it," he mumbles, his eyes burning into mine and his erection quickly growing against my stomach. "Let's just be two adults, using each other to get off. What has to be complicated about that?"

"It's never as simple as that, and you know it," I huff out.

"Maybe not in your books, babe. But in real life, it doesn't have to turn into this big thing." His lips brush against mine. "I know your greedy pussy is just begging for this. Let it happen. You can't always be in control of every little thing, you know."

He's only known me for weeks, and he already knows I'm a control freak.

His words piss me off, and I attempt to duck away from him, but he plants his arms at my sides, slapping his palms against the counter. "Where are you running off to, Mace?"

"I don't always have to be in control," I hiss, hating that this is a fight I've had many times before with my ex.

He always loved to throw it in my face that I could never just … go with the flow. But deep down, I know he was also jealous when my writing career took off, but he'd never say that out loud; instead, he'd just hyperfocus on the control thing.

"Hey, look at me," he growls, taking one hand from the counter and gripping my chin. "I don't care if you need to be in control. I mean, I get it. You are an independent woman with shit to do. You don't have time for fucking off with me."

His minty breath makes me want to kiss him so badly, but I fight the urge.

"If you need to be in control, take control. I can lie back and let you do whatever the fuck you want to me. And I'll fucking love every second of it and likely blow my load early because it'll be so fucking hot."

His hand slides to my neck, gripping it slightly. "So, what's it going to be, Boston?"

Before I can stop myself, I kiss him—roughly. My tongue tangles with his, and within seconds, he lifts me up by my ass and slams me down onto the countertop. My legs wrap around his waist, and he positions himself between my legs, his cock growing rapidly.

His hand slides into my hair, gripping it snuggly, and I grind myself harder against him, needing more friction before I lose my mind.

Pulling his lips from mine, he tears my shirt over my head, leaving me in my bra and leggings before he unwraps my legs from his waist. With one hand, he rolls the band of my leggings down and lifts my ass slightly from the counter, yanking them and my panties from my body. The granite is cold against my ass, and I make a mental note to double-sanitize this kitchen tomorrow.

"I want you so fucking bad," he grunts against my lips. "I don't think my cock has ever been this hard, Maci."

Grabbing the can of whipped cream next to me, he puts a small amount on his finger before bringing it to my lips.

"Suck," he demands.

I open my lips and take his whole finger into my mouth before pulling back and repeating it all over again.

Pulling his finger away, he takes the cream and sprays a small dollop on my neck and one on each of my nipples before squirting an entire line down my abdomen and between my legs. Leaning forward, he sucks my neck, lapping the cream away unhurriedly.

He works lower, taking one nipple at a time into his mouth and alternating between licking and sucking. My nipples grow harder, and I arch my back, my mouth hanging open as I drag my fingers through his hair.

Stopping, he gives me a devilish look. "Tell me, baby. You like to be in control. So, I need to know, what part of you do you want me to taste next?"

I bite down on my bottom lip bashfully before getting the confidence to play along with him. I mean, this is research for my book, right?

"Between my legs," I whisper.

He shakes his head. "You're going to have to be more specific than that, Mace."

"My pussy." I croak out the words. "Taste my pussy."

"That's my girl," he utters.

Using one hand, he pushes me backward until my back is flat on the counter and my legs are spread apart. He moves over me, licking the line of cream that goes over my belly button, keeping his tongue wide as he slowly works his way between my legs.

Stopping, he gazes up at me. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen. And look at you, sprawled out on my kitchen counter, ready to be my next meal."

And then … he dives in. His tongue plunges inside of me as he hooks his hands around my legs. The visual alone has my head spinning as I moan, watching him eat me like I'm the best thing he's ever tasted. Everything inside of me needs this, and every single sane thought is telling me it's not a good idea. But I can't push him away. It feels too good.

My hands fist his hair, tugging tightly as my hips rock against his mouth, desperate for more.

"That's it, baby. Take what you need. Let that greedy, tight pussy fuck my tongue," he growls from between my legs.

He removes his tongue from me just long enough for me to attempt to push my body toward him. He smirks up at me; although his mouth is on my clit, I can see it in his eyes.

It builds so fast—this furious orgasm that's seconds away from avalanching down my entire body. This will be the second time that it's all about me and he's not getting anything out of it. That's not really fair.

Pulling my hips back, I lift his head up gently by his hair. "I'm going to come if you don't stop."

His smirk only grows, mixing with a mischievous look. "Tell me, Boston, the men in your books, have they ever made the girl come three times in one scene?"

My heart races as I stare wildly at him. "N-no."

"Well, now, you can add that to the book you're writing. Because let's face it, babe; I know I'm the inspiration."

Gripping my legs harder, he yanks me against his mouth again, and within seconds, I see little white specks dancing in my vision as my toes curl and my back arches off the counter.

"Oh … my … God," I moan. "Please, don't stop," I bite out, bucking my hips against his mouth as my orgasm hits its peak.

His tongue doesn't stop working its magic on me until I'm completely spent. Only, instead of like last time, when he pulled back, this time, he quickly unhooks his arms from my legs and wraps them around my abdomen, lifting me from the counter.

Walking us toward the table, he sets me down and spins me around, bending me over and shoving me face down against the table. His hand tangles into my hair, pushing my cheek harder against the wood, and I hear him undoing his jeans.

"What do you say, Boston?" he utters roughly. "Can I fuck you from behind on this table?"

I don't even consider saying no because less than a minute after the greatest orgasm of my life, I'm already aching for him again. "Cond—"

"I'm clean. I'm almost positive you're clean." He stops. "Birth control?"

"IUD," I whisper. The idea of taking him bare has me physically throbbing in desperate need. "I'm clean."

He palms my ass cheek, giving it a spank and making it jiggle with his touch. I'm sure most of the women he's been with go to the gym daily and don't have excess fat. I'm curvy, and in spots like my thighs and ass, I'm on the thicker side. But when I try to squirm to flip over, his hand presses into my hair more aggressively, keeping me still.

"Don't even think about flipping over; the sight of you, ass up on my dining room table, is too fucking hot." Grabbing one of my hands, he pulls it toward him, running it against his length. "Do you feel how fucking hard I am, baby? And it's all for you."

He moves my hand to the tip, and I feel some moisture seep onto my fingertips.

"My cock is already dripping for you, and you've barely even touched me," he grunts before he pulls my hand from him and brings my fingers toward my mouth. "Open up," he commands, and instantly, my lips part. He slowly pushes my fingertips against my tongue. "Taste me, sweet thing."

The salty taste awakens my taste buds, and right away, I want more of him. But before I can take more, the tip of his cock hovers against my entrance.

"Ready to come for the second time?" he utters.

Moving his hips, he drives his cock inside of me slowly. It stings as he stretches me.

"Such a good girl, taking my cock for the first time so well," he praises me, which only makes me wetter. "That's it, baby. Get yourself nice and soaked and drip all over my cock."

In no time, he's fucking me in a rhythm. The sound of his hips hitting my ass is like music to my ears, and I know that no matter what words I try to use to describe that delicious sound in my book, it won't come close. I suppose the same could be said for how good my heroine will feel during this scene and all the sensations in her being. How can I sum it up in a few paragraphs when I feel everything?

I feel so … alive.

His hand reaches around me, and he pushes his thumb to my clit, making a circular motion. That's all it takes for my body to completely fall apart. I fight back loud moans, not wanting to wake Amelia. He must feel what's happening because he takes one hand and grips my neck lightly.

"That's it, Boston. Give me that second orgasm. Drip down this cock so that it's soaked for when I fuck you next."

My brain feels fuzzy, and my eyes flutter shut with exhaustion. I don't know how I'm ever going to survive another intense orgasm at the hands of Logan Sterns.

Slowly, my orgasm comes to an end, leaving my body completely limp. But Logan doesn't seem to mind as he pulls out before flipping me over onto my back.

"Look at you," he whispers, "so fucking stunning now that you've come for me twice." Suddenly, another devilish look covers his face. "But you're not done yet, baby. I'm a man of my word."

Even though my body feels like it has nothing left to give and I couldn't possibly come again, somehow, I know Logan Sterns is about to challenge that.

Dear God, I'm lucky that I didn't just blow my seed inside of her heat. I came so fucking close—thank fuck she finished coming before I got the chance. When her pussy began squeezing around me, I felt my balls start to tingle, and I fucking knew I was a goner.

Thankfully, I held it together long enough so I can fuck her once more.

This time, I'm going to make her ride my cock until we're both coming. Together.

She stares up at me, her cheeks still red hot from her orgasm moments ago and her chest continues to heave for air.

Fucking A, she's gorgeous.

Collapsing in the chair, I tip my chin up at her as she still lies on the table. "Come on over here and sit on my dick."

For a second after I give the command, she doesn't move.

"You like control, so take it. Ride me until my cock explodes inside that pussy while it squeezes me tight."

That gets her attention, and sluggishly, she scoots her body from the table and straddles me. As she brings herself lower, her nipples harden, and I can't fucking help myself but to bring one into my mouth. Inch by inch, she takes me until I'm all the way in.

"Ride, baby," I growl lowly. "Fuck my cock."

Her hips begin to roll, hesitant at first, but before long, she's moving back and forth, harder and faster. I reach for her hair, but she pulls away.

"Hands behind your back, Sterns," she hisses. "You said I'm in control, remember?"

Christ almighty, that's hot. It sends a shiver right down to my nutsack, which is on the verge of exploding because my dick wants to come so fucking bad.

Her tits bounce in my face, and she puts her hands on my shoulders, digging her fingernails into my flesh.

"What are you waiting for, boss? Soak me. I want to feel you dripping down my thighs," I grumble out, hoping my words make her come undone because I've noticed how much she seems to like dirty talk. I'm praying she's going to come soon because with the sight of her riding me, I can't last much longer.

It's like my prayers are answered when she tightens around me, her eyebrows pull together, and her lips part. She tips her head upward, squeezing her eyes shut as her hips slow down, continuing to roll, but slower—and deeper.

That's all it takes—watching her come on my cock—and then my balls tighten, and my dick prepares to shoot cum inside of her. And within seconds, that's exactly what happens. She claws at my shoulders, her movements gradually getting less.

"Fuck," I grunt. "Feels so good to come inside of you."

My body spasms as she trembles slightly, both of us on the tail end of our orgasm.

I drag in a few shaky breaths as she does the same, looking down at me.

"Three times," she utters, the corner of her lips turning up the slightest bit.

"Told you. Three times," I answer boldly. "I'm a man of my word."

She attempts to climb off of me, but I stop her, putting my hands on her waist.

"In your story, after the dude rocks the chick's world, what will he do next? What would the readers want to see?"

The sheer look of nervousness is written all over her pretty face.

Her eyes dance between mine, and she sighs. "I don't really know." She swallows. "But the way I see it, this thing we're doing is a business arrangement. I'm working for you, and you're helping me with my book in return." Her shoulders shrug. "Everyone knows that at the end of a romance story, the couple ends up together. Maybe it started out as a fake dating thing or a friends-with-benefits deal, but in the end, they give in and wind up together. That's not our story, Logan. So, sometimes—like right now—we need to remember what's fake and what's real."

Her words pull me from whatever bliss she just put me into minutes before.

"That isn't what I asked."

She's hesitant to respond for a moment before, finally, she exhales. "Well, he'll probably take her into the shower to clean her up. Something sweet, not spicy." She pauses, her eyes widening just a fraction. "Just to, you know … even things out. But don't worry; that doesn't need to happen with us. We are not the couple in my book."

I stand, pulling my dick from her body, but keeping her in my arms as I head toward my bedroom.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she says, baffled, as I push my door open.

"Cleaning you up," I tell her. "Oh, but unlike your scenario, I'm going to wash your hair too. You know, really drive home that sweet aspect." I wink as I head toward the bathroom.

Setting her down on the sink, I reach into the shower and turn it on.

"Wait right here," I tell her before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist.

Walking out of my room, I start toward her bathroom. When I get inside, I grab her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash before heading back to her.

I half expect to meet her, beelining it toward her room, but when I don't, I'm thankful.

I get back inside my bathroom, closing the door behind me.

"Logan," she whispers, gazing up at me. Her brown hair is now a tangled mess from our shenanigans, and her eyes are sleepy from her coming so many times. "You don't have to do this."

"No, I don't." I reach inside, checking that it's the right temperature before lifting her again and bringing her in with me. "Lucky for you, I want to. Because if I'm the inspo behind this character, I'm damn sure going to do it right."

As I grab the body wash, she stops me, reaching for the shampoo. "I usually do this first." As soon as the words leave her lips, she looks frustrated with herself. "I'm sorry. You're trying to be nice, and here I am, being a control freak. Again."

I take the shampoo from her hand and squirt some into my palm before spinning her so that her back is to me. "Don't ever apologize, Boston," I murmur into her ear. "You've got nothing to be sorry for."

She does like to be in control. And she's tidy, almost to the point of being OCD. As ashamed as she seems about it, I can't help but wonder if her ex made her feel bad about it or something. Either way, I'm not going to pry because it isn't really my place.

I take the bottom of her hair, edging her backward until she's directly under the spray. Once her hair is wet enough, I work the shampoo into it.

"Coconut," I say, thinking out loud. "Smells just like you always do."

"I've used the same shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and lotion for eight years." She sounds like she's admitting it rather than just telling me. "Deodorant too. I just like things to be … well …"

"The same?" I guess.

Her shoulders sag the tiniest bit, and she nods. "Yeah. I know; it's dumb and just another thing I have to be in control of. But I like the smell of coconut. And besides, other things irritate my body."

"Why do you feel like you need to explain that to me?" I finish rinsing her hair before reaching for the conditioner and repeating the process. "You don't need to. We all have a way we like to do things. It's nothing to feel ashamed about."

The water sprays on her hair and down her back, making her body look so fucking beautiful. Her ass is so close to my cock, that it can't help but to twitch. I move on to the body wash, turning her toward me. I get my hands nice and soapy before working them over her perfect teardrop tits. Then, I glide my hand between her legs to clean up after myself from earlier. It's not sexual, but more of me trying to be nice.

Her lashes are soaked as she gazes up at me. "Because for years, I was told that being as much of a control freak and type A as I am … was annoying. And after a while, it got into my head." She shrugs her shoulders. "I'm not like this with my writing process. With that, I just sort of … let go. But with day-to-day life … I don't know … I guess I just like things in a certain order. It keeps me sane. My ex didn't love that side of me."

"He sounds like a complete douche. So, I'd say he did you a favor when he left," I murmur, swiping my thumb over her cheek. "Never change who you are for someone else, Boston. You hear me?"

As the corners of her lips turn up the slightest bit, she nods. But then she looks curious. "How did you know he left me?"

"Poppy," I admit, not wanting to lie. "Don't worry; she didn't give me the details or anything."

Her lips pinch together, and she looks nervous. "What else did she tell you about me?"

"Not a lot. Just that you were a good person. That you had something pretty traumatic happen a few years ago and that your fiancé took the coward's way out." I dip my head closer to hers, raising my eyebrows. "And I stand by what I said. Fucker did you a favor."

Her eyes stare up at me as if she doesn't believe what I'm saying. But finally, she gives me the smallest bob of her head. "Thank you, Logan."

"Anytime, Boston." I wink. "Anytime."

She smiles impatiently and jerks her thumb toward the glass door. "I should go. You know … get in my non-sexy, real-life pajamas and head to bed. Besides, you have an early morning."

I don't want her to go to her own room. I want her to sleep with me. But that would make this even more complicated than it's likely going to be. I keep pushing her worries aside like they are nothing, but let's face it; I know what we're doing isn't smart.

Yet I can't stop.

"You're free to go. But only as long as you think your main character—me—did his job tonight. I want to go on one of those top-tier book boyfriend lists."

Her eyes widen in shock, and I smirk.

"Oh, yeah. I've seen that shit."

She tries to fight it, but eventually, she giggles and gently smacks her palm on my chest. "Logan Sterns, you are too much." She pauses, gazing up at me. "Thank you."

"For what? I mean, besides that hot, good loving I gave you."

"For providing me with, I'd say … at least four thousand words of straight smut to write." She winks playfully, patting my chest. "The readers are so going to appreciate it."

"Hell yes, they will." I grin proudly.

"Night, Logan." She smiles. "See you tomorrow."

Leaning down, I kiss her on the cheek. "Good night, Boston."

As she steps out of the shower and towels herself off, fuck if my cock doesn't grow as I watch her. I wish she could spend the entire night in my bed. I'd give her a hell of a lot more than four thousand words to write with all the things I'd love to do to her.

But having the nanny sleep in my bed? That wouldn't be what's best for my daughter. And my daughter is the only person who truly matters to me.