“We signed up to help?We?”I like that… I grumble as I stomp to the shower. “I didn’t sign up for anything.”
Warm water rouses me, and the first thing I remember is Remington Key. Hell, what did I agree to do last night? I’ve lost my mind. Or have I?
Remington Key has a straight, white smile and an adorable dimple in his left cheek. He has warm hazel eyes and wavy, caramel brown hair. His hands are long and elegant, and when I slipped off my stool last night, he caught me in the strongest embrace.
His muscles were hard and lined through his shirt, and I didn’t want to let him go. I slid my hands slowly up the hard ridges, imagining what might be under that soft fabric. Water runs down my face, and I tilt my chin up, picturing his sexy lips touching mine, threading my fingers in those soft waves, wrapping my legs around his narrow waist…Damn, that’s hot…
My hand slips between my thighs, and I finger the little bud hidden there. I move my hand back and forth, circling, massaging, rising onto my toes as I imagine his hard dick teasing my entrance, nudging, pushing, pillaging my insides, sliding in and out, all the way to the hilt, pushing me higher, higher…
My jaw drops, my eyes squeeze shut…Oh, god, I’m coming…
“Ten-minute warning!” My mother’s loud voice jumps me out of my orgasm.
“Jesus!” I shout, my heart flying, and my entire body on edge.
“Do not take the lord’s name in vain!”
“Or what?” I shout back, shutting off the tap and feelingveryfrustrated.
Drying off quickly, I think about what I’ve done. Have I lost my freakin’ mind? I just spent the last several minutes rubbing one out while I dreamed of screwing my new boss…
That does it. I can’t work for Remington Key. He’s too hot.
Then I remember the carrot: Five hundred dollars a day.
Holy shit, that’s fifteen thousand dollars a month! How loaded is this guy? And why the fuck didn’t I remember meeting him at church?
Shaking my head, I apply light makeup—powder on the nose, cat eyes, pale pink lip. He was drunk. He’s going to call me today and apologize, and I’ll be back on the job market.
Still… He seemed pretty serious. What if he doesn’t back out?
My stomach squeezes, and I swallow a squeal. I could do a lot with fifteen thousand dollars a month. Standing in front of the mirror, I take a few deep breaths and evaluate my appearance. I look responsible, competent, professional. I would trust me with my kid.
If this is for real, and ridiculously hot Remington Key really wants to pay me an insane amount of money to be his nanny, I will do it.
He said he needs help, and it’s the right and Christian thing to do.
I can do this.
Leaning forward, I softly order, “Don’t fuck it up.”
By the time we finish cleaning up after those messy old people, service has already begun. I don’t mind being late, because Pastor Hibbert’s sermons always put me to sleep. Also because it means Ma and I get to sit in one of the open pews near the back, rather than her favorite spot right up front.
The congregation is singing “Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus,” and I take this opportunity to turn my eyes upon Remington Key sitting beside a silver-haired woman who I assume is Eleanor, his mother-in-law. She’s dressed in a pale blue suit, and she looks very formal and strict. She’s vaguely familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen her at one of Ma’s many Bible studies.
Remi’s wearing a tailored brown suit, and now that he’s standing, not sitting on a barstool, I realize he’s tall. He’s also slim, but not skinny. I bet he’s hiding a hot, athletic bod under all that expensive-looking fabric. A Jamie Dornan inFifty Shades Freedkind of bod.
I do a quick scan of the backs of heads. Dagwood is here, sitting with his wife Dotty. Mrs. Stern and her son Ralph are behind them. I do a shiver and continue looking, but I don’t see Drew anywhere. Not that I’m surprised.
We’re instructed to sit, and I watch as Remi makes sure Eleanor has everything she needs.What a gentleman. Just before he takes a seat, those hazel eyes sweep the room, and when they meet mine, a shot of adrenaline sizzles in my lower stomach.
A tiny smile curls my lips, and the side of his mouth moves upward. That dimple appears briefly, and I have to shift in my seat.Damn, he is so effing hot.
No, I don’t think the F-bomb in church.
Yes, my mom is in my head.
Back to my hot boss… I can’t believe he’s lived here four years. Granted, I don’t make it to church every single Sunday, but hell, I must be sleeping through a lot of sermons. Maybe he misses the Sundays I’m here and vice versa. Yes, that has to be what happens.
