Page 12 of Curvy Wives of Willow Creek 5-8

I can feel my cheeks heating up, my heart hammering in my chest as my mind races. Damien called me beautiful. The words replay in my head, a sweet echo that sends a wave of warmth through me.

I catch my lower lip between my teeth, my thighs rubbing together as I take in the sight of him.

His lips are so close, a tantalizing temptation that makes my stomach flutter. But I can't, I shouldn't. I should leave and find another job.

Because I know if I stay here, I won't be able to resist him, and I want more than just a fling, more than being a convenient choice for him after a long day.

The room fills with a tangible tension, both of us caught in a moment that seems to hold our breaths and hearts hostage. And when I look into his eyes, the gentle warmth in them burning into mine, I know it's already too late.

I'm falling for Damien, and there's no going back.

Chapter 6 - Damien

The kitchen is dimly lit, the moonlight streaming in from the windows casting a soft glow on Sophie's face. I can't believe what I just did. I didn't plan to, but my body took the reins before I could put a stop to it.

I told her she's beautiful and held her hand in mine, yet she didn't flinch or pull away.

She stares back at me, her eyes gleaming with excitement, with yearning. I know it. I can feel it pulsating through my heart, coursing through my veins, erupting in the form of goosebumps that run rampant across my skin.

If ever there was a moment to seize, this is it. But I can't, can I? All I have to do is hold back for a few more seconds, and I'll be safe from this magnetic pull.

Tomorrow we’ll be back to normal – I’ll be the father; she’ll be the nanny and nothing more.

Except, I can't. Not anymore. Every fiber of my being screams for her lips, thirsts for her taste. I close my eyes and lean in, unsure of what's on the other side, yet confident that Sophie will be there to meet me – either with a kiss or a slap.

Time bends and warps around me, making seconds feel like an eternity until I finally reach her. My lips meet hers in a fierce, passionate kiss.

If tonight is all I have, I refuse to let go, vowing to make every second count. And judging by the way her hands snake around me, pulling me closer, it seems she shares my sentiment.

Her scent is intoxicating, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through me. Unable to resist, I open my eyes and lift her, setting her down on the counter.

My hand grazes her soft skin as I brush a few strands of hair from her face, telling her once again just how beautiful she is. She blushes, sending another kiss my way, her lips fanning the flames of desire within me.

There's so much more I want to do, so much more I want to show Sophie about the man I can be when I let my primal instincts take over. But I can't; I know I can't. I barely know her, and my little girl is fast asleep upstairs.

So, instead, I trail kisses down her neck, eliciting a soft gasp from her. She tilts her head back, allowing me better access, her breathy pleas for me not to stop ringing in my ears and stoking the fire in my soul.

Tonight, even if it's just for a few stolen moments, Sophie is mine. And I am hers. For now, that's enough.

As I keep my lips glued to her neck, stealing occasional kisses from her lips, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts I can't push aside.

I should stop, I know. I should shove all these complicated feelings and wild desires in a box and bury them deep within me.

Sophie is my daughter’s new nanny, and I'm on the precipice of ruining everything.

I deserve happiness, sure, but why did it have to be Sophie?

There's nothing wrong with her. She's perfect. Too perfect. And that's what scares me the most. What if she doesn't want something serious? Or worse, what if she does, and we just don't click?

Passion and chemistry are easy, but relationships are complicated. And just because she's a nanny doesn't mean she wants to sign up for a man with a child. That's a heavy load to bear.

Finally, I stop. I cradle her face in my hand and ask, "What are we doing?"

The question seems to catch her off guard, worry seeping into her eyes.

She quickly retorts, "Are you having second thoughts?"

I'm quick to reassure her, "I don't regret a single kiss, Sophie. But... I have a daughter. I can't just be kissing any woman in my kitchen late at night."

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