Page 8 of Nanny for the Don

Getting the girls ready for bed this time is a breeze. They’re worn out from the day’s excitement, so the whole process goes like clockwork. I help them into their pajamas, get them to brush their teeth, and then settle down with them for a couple of bedtime stories. They’re so wiped they’re both out cold before I even finish the second book.

With the girls tucked in and the house quiet, I realize it’s still pretty early. The night is mine, and I’m already thinking about how to spend it. Grabbing the iPad with the monitor, I step into the hall and, half-jokingly, think about how nice it would be to take another soak in Mr. Conti’s massive tub. But then I remember the kitchen fiasco and decide maybe I should keep a lower profile tonight.

I also notice Mr. Conti still isn’t back. He’s been gone all day. I wonder if this is normal for him, being away from the girls so much. It’s kind of sad, actually.

As I wander down the hall, I spot the library, a stunning room with cozy sitting areas and shelves packed with books. It looks like the perfect spot to unwind. I step inside, running my fingers along the spines of the books, when Ms. M suddenly appears, almost. It’s like she’s materialized out of thin air.

“You’re more than welcome to use the library, Willow,” she says, her tone neutral. “Just make sure to put everything back where you found it.”

“Thanks, Ms. M,” I reply, trying to keep my excitement in check.. She nods and walks off, leaving me to hurry inside and explore my new favorite room.

I instantly fall in love with the place. It’s like stepping into a scene from one of those old-school, cozy movies. There are several big, high-backed chairs that look like they were made to curl up in with a good book. Off to the side, there’s a kid’s reading area with an adult-sized chair and the cutest little couch for the twins, perfectly matching and just their size. It’s like something out of a storybook.

The towering windows overlook the garden, the soft glow of the outdoor lights illuminating the snowy landscape. And the fireplace! I find the switch and turn it on, watching as the flames flicker to life, instantly filling the room with a warm, inviting glow. The cozy warmth is exactly what I need after the day I’ve had.

I wonder if Mr. Conti is a big reader. The collection is impressive, but does he ever have the time to actually sit down and enjoy these? Or is this just another part of his life that he barely gets to experience?

Standing in the library, I can’t help it—my mind goes straight to the gutter. I imagine Mr. Conti, with those big, strong hands, pushing me down onto the reading table, spreading my legs wide, and pounding into me so hard the books might fall off the shelves.

My thoughts get even filthier—now I’m riding him in one of these big, overstuffed chairs, grinding down on him as he grabs my waist, guiding me into a rhythm that’s downright sinful.

And then, the pièce de resistance: himNext, I imagine him on top of me in front of the fireplace, flames flickering on the walls as he takes me with an intensity that leaves me breathless.

I’m so insanely horny right now, I can barely stand it.

Trashy fantasies for a virgin!I scold myself, trying to shake off the heat burning through me.

I take a deep breath and force myself to focus. I need a damn book to get my mind out of the garbage. Scanning the shelves, I finally grabThe Girl with a Clock for a Heart. A modern mystery— pPerfect. This should be enough to cool me down.

I sink into one of the plush leather chairs, hoping the dark, twisted plot will drown out the dirty thoughts swirling in my head. But as I open the book and start reading, the heat between my legs lingers, teasing me like a memory I can’t shake.

I get lost in the book, letting the words pull me in, the flicker of firelight from the fireplace dancing on the pages, and the steady ticking of the grandfather clock grounding me in this cozy, quiet moment. It’s almost enough to forget my dirty thoughts.

I’m so invested in the book that when I hear a voice calling my name, I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Willow?”

My heart races as I look up, and there he is, the man himself, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame in that effortlessly casual, yet ridiculously sexy way he did last night. The same pose that made me wish he’d just lose control and take me right there.

Mr. Conti’s dressed in slacks and dress shoes, with a crisp white button-up that clings to his chest just right, and those damnsleeves are rolled up, showing off his gorgeous forearms.

I can’t help but stare, my mind going straight to the gutter again, imagining those hands on me. I’m getting so horny just looking at him, and I can feel my face heating. Then I glance down and realize, to my absolute horror, that I’m sitting here in nothing but my little sleep shorts and a skimpy tank top.No bra. Again.

My nipples are hard, probably visible through the thin fabric, and I know he’s noticed.Shit.I try to casually cross my arms over my chest, but it’s too late—his eyes have already swept over me, lingering just long enough to make my heart pound even harder..

I spring up like a freaking jack-in-the-box, the book flying out of my lap as my eyes go wide.“Uh, I wasn’t quite ready for bed,” I stammer, trying to sound casual. “Just wanted to grab a book. I’ll take it upstairs to my room.”

Mr. Conti raises a hand, cutting off my rambling. “Hold on, Willow.”

His voice is calm, but his eyes slowly sweep over me, taking in every inch of my barely there outfit.

My face is hot, and I know I’m blushing like crazy. But more than that, I’m getting so damn turned on by the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the only thing in the room worth noticing. My pussy clenches, and I swear I can feel myself soaking through my panties.

“You can stay in the library if you want,” he says, his voice smooth and inviting. “But first, tell me about the incident in the kitchen.”

Damn.

Of course, he’d bring that up. Just when I thought I might survive this encounter without completely embarrassing myself. My mind races, trying to come up with something, anything that doesn’t make me look like a total idiot.

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