Page 39 of Never Bargain with the Boss

I should think about my wife, but I don’t. I could think about one of the women I’ve had sex with over the years or a celebrity, but I don’t do that either.

No, while I fuck my hand, I only think of one woman. Riley Stefano, the damn nanny that I can’t touch and shouldn’t want, but do.

I imagine chasing her around the yard, throwing her to the ground, and fucking her rough with the stars above us.

I imagine bending her over the kitchen counter and taking her from behind with one hand tangled in that soft, messy hair of hers and the other gripping her lush hip so hard that I’d leave fingerprints in the flesh there.

I imagine the hand wrapped around my cock is hers and pretend I can hear the jangling music her bracelets would make as she strokes me.

And when cum spurts over my hand in seconds, I grit my teeth so I don’t say her name.

Once upon a time, I learned how your entire life can change in a single day, or sometimes in a single moment. That time, it was when I lost Michelle and my life took a sharp left turninto something I never thought I’d survive. There was a distinct before and after.

And now, I woke up this morning thinking it would be like any other day. But when I catch my breath from coming so forcefully and realize that I’m still rock hard and wanting to go again, I know that today is another sharp turn in my life. This morning, I thought Riley was a good nanny for my daughter. And now… well, I think she’s the biggest threat to my stability that I’ve ever met.

RILEY

“Sleepy baby, sleepy baby, go to sleep, go to sleep,” Janey sings to Emmett in a sweet, calm voice. I can hear her down the hallway and can’t help but smile. She’s an amazing mother, even if her impromptu song could use a little lyrical work.

I go to the kitchen, grabbing us both drinks from the refrigerator, and wait for her to get Emmett down. In minutes, she rushes me, grabbing for the strawberry-apricot Red Bull dangling from my fingers. “Ahh, my emotional support Red Bull,” she sighs, popping the top and taking a long swallow. Actually, it’d probably qualify more as a gulp.

“You could shotgun it if you need the caffeine hit that badly,” I quip.

“I went months without these, but after just a few, I’m completely addicted again. I’d mainline it if I could,” she jokes, tapping right below her collarbone. “I gave in when Emmett started cluster feeding a few days ago.”

Ah, that explains it.

Emmett is usually a sleeping pro, but if he’s having a growth spurt and needs near-constant calories, that means he’sprobably blissfully snoozing while nursing, and all the while, Janey is awake and alert, getting less sleep than she needs.

“Do you think it’s okay that I’m having one Red Bull a day? The doctor said it is, but still, I worry…” She trails off, eyeing the can in her hand like it’s a rattlesnake poised to attack.

“It’s got the same amount of caffeine as a cup of coffee, you only have one, plus you drink enough water that you probably pee totally clear.” I hold up a hand to stop her from telling me if that’s correct because TMI. “If the doctor says it’s okay, you’re fine,” I reassure her.

“Thanks.” She barely gets the word out before she’s taking another drink.

“What do you want me to do today? Laundry? Clean the kitchen or bathrooms? Watch the monitor so you can shower in peace or take a nap? We should take advantage of the few minutes he’s going to sleep.” I peek at the monitor feed pulled up on her phone. She has it open constantly, often just watching Emmett sleep with a happy smile ghosting across her face.

“Can we talk?” There’s no happy smile now. She leans against the counter like she needs its support to stay vertical.

My heart flip-flops because nothing good ever comes out of a start like that. “Uh, yeah. About what?”

“Literally anything not involving poop, spit-up, nursing, or baby things. I want to talk about adult things… wait, not likeadultthings.” She giggles in exhaustion, and I give her a reassuring smile. “Unless you want to talk about that. If that’s what’s on your mind, that’s fine,” she clarifies. With a sigh, she finally admits, “I just need to hear about what’s happening outside the walls of this house. Literally anything is fair game. Please.”

I laugh at her gushing outpouring of words. “Bad news there, I literally have zeroadultthings to discuss, and I think Cole would kill me if you shared anything about your sex life.” Shenods like ‘yeah, that’s true.’ “But do you want to see the pants I found thrifting? They’re this amazing plaid and I had quite the surprising model for them.”

I pull up the picture on my phone that shows Grace in her redone skirt, me in my cat t-shirt, and Cameron in the ridiculous pants, and flip it around to show Janey. Her jaw falls open as she rips the phone from my hand to get a closer look.

“Are you serious? How did you get Cameron to do that? Blackmail? Threats? Drugs? Or is it AI?” Her eyes are scouring the picture of the three of us like she might find a tell-tale sixth finger or blurred background, but she won’t find anything other than a real photo taken in the family room. There’s not even an auto-correct filter run on the image.

It’d been Grace’s idea, a memory of a fun day, and though she’d had to sweet-talk Cameron into taking the picture with the pants on, he’d done it. For her.

I understand now why he’s so wrapped around Grace’s finger. She literally saved him from the depths of despair, and in return, he wants to make her as happy as possible. It’s noble, and though that’s not a word I’d typically use given it’s the Twenty-First Century, it’s true.

I think the picture is my new favorite. I’d make it my phone’s lock screen, except that’d be weird since it’s my boss and my charge, not my actual family. But I don’t have one of those, and it’d be kinda cool to see us happily smiling rather than a generic wallpaper that came with the phone.

“Grace talked him into the picture,” I explain.

“Not that. The pants!” she exclaims. “Was that Grace too?” When I shake my head with a self-satisfied smirk, she gawks at me. “How in the hell did you do that?”