Page 45 of Nanny for the Firefighters

"Who says?" Theo asks from behind me.

"I do. You all got started without me, so I'm going to finish without you. Why don't you go make breakfast? A big one."

Marcus laughs, and it echoes under the high ceilings. He slaps Theo on the back, and I peer over my shoulder to watch them go. With his own smirk, Will follows, and I grin back down at Ella.

"I'm going to assume you can't walk right now, so allow me." I slide off the chaise lounge and lift Ella in my arms. She sucks in a breath like she's not used to seeing us display this kind of strength, but I'm a firefighter. I've carried fully-grown and hefty men out of fires before. Ella's weight is nothing, even with her curves.

I take her up to her room in the manor because I'm nosy and I want to see whether she's a slob or a neat freak. I want to know what her soap and shampoo smell like before she spreads them over her skin. When I back us inside, leaving the entrance door open, she snorts against my shoulder. "I knew you liked voyeurism the moment I met you."

I laugh. "I do." And I take in as much as I can with each step through her space—twelve paces—to the bathroom door. She's not messy, but she's not neat. Pops of color from skirts or shirts and a very nice pair of shoes. Her duvet seems subdued, but her bed is made, likely supplied by the man who brought it from her place. She has a laptop open on the small desk by the window, and plants decorate the room, likely remnants from her solo life before putting up at the manor. Foliage takes up most of the extra spaces. All of them are lush and dark green, well taken care of. That fits what I know of Ella.

"I like your plants," I whisper into her hair as I set her down in front of her shower. It fits the two of us nicely. The tiles are pale green here, offset with white. They appear more earthy, which also matches Ella's aesthetic. "I hope you keep extra towels in here."

She tips a smirk up at me over her shoulder. "I do."

I reach in and turn on the hot water, one arm snug around her waist to keep her upright. Taking a moment to nuzzle her, I enjoy the way she sways from foot to foot, pulling me along. It has been a long time since I danced with a woman, even the slow sway. Most of my moves are of the horizontal nature, but this one taps something deep in my chest. It's not rational, but I don't want this to end.

This isn't even the good part.

Or maybe it is.

Her fingers tighten on my wrists. "I think it's hot enough now."

My laugh is more self-content. "Yeah." I walk us inside, and she seems to like this silly side of me. Women love to laugh. It's the serious stuff that always sends them packing. In my line of work, serious comes on quickly, and it's intense. Most women aren't made for men like me. The last couple of years proved that for me and my brothers.

Gliding my hands up and down her sides, I spread the hot water over her skin and grab for the bar of soap and wash rag she has hanging nearby. I rub rosemary and mint over the cloth before circling suds over her skin. And I am very thorough.

She washes her face as I wring out the rag and hang it back where I got it.

"Do you want your hair washed or no?"

Another genuine belly laugh that twists my guts. "If I said yes, would you be washing it?"

"I would." I open her shampoo bottle and take a big whiff. More mint, but it's married with lime this time. It's sweeter and makes me want a margarita. The scent isn't as sweet on Ella's skin. Something about how it mixes with her natural scent makes it all the better.

She blinks those long lashes at me, but not in a way that can be interpreted as seductive, although everything about her seems to seduce me just fine. She's assessing me. I open her conditioner and get the same mix of fragrance but with a mellow coconut milk undertone.

The corner of her mouth twitches up. "You're smelling my personal hygiene items."

I laugh, leaving the genuine smile lingering on my face. Putting one on is easy enough, but part of me wonders if she can tell the difference. She's so observant. "I am."

Ella purses her mouth to hide her smile. "Why?"

I shrug. "Just trying to pick out what's you, and what's added to make you smell so good."

Her laugh is another real one. They're slowly cracking her open in front of us the more she grows comfortable. "You don't ever turn it off, do you? Sexpot."

"Sexpot?"

"Something my Nani used to say when she warned me about pretty boys and their charms. I do plan to wash my hair." And with that, Ella dunks her hair back into the wide spray of water from the large shower head.

Something about her is simply addictive. I've known a lot of women, but none of them have come close to making me feel the way Ella does. If Marcus isn't careful, he's going to have a new roommate, and I won't be convinced that he doesn't have the room.

Once her hair is good and wet, I squeeze a dollop of her mint and lime shampoo into my palm and step in behind her to work it through her long locks. Her hair is thick and wavy even when wet.

Ella sways, and I step around in front of her before sinking my fingers back in her hair. She wraps her arms around me to stabilize herself, head falling back into my ministrations and elongating her beautiful neck. If not for the suds, I would be nibbling her there right now. Her soft, delectable moans do me in, and I can feel my dick hardening against her belly.

She peeks one eye open at me. Annoyed or amused, I can't tell.