Page 2 of One Bride for Three Single Dads

I just make that final step toward him, the one that crosses the invisible gulf that has separated us ever since they hired me to be their live-in nanny. Just a cellophane-clear envelope of safety that surrounded all of us, which kept me from climbing any one of my bosses like the sturdy, sexy trees that they are.

I cross that threshold just as he reaches out to catch me. He bends down and our trajectories collide, crushing our mouths together.

Every cell in my body is screaming in celebration as our mouths slide over each other, churning against a built-up lust that we finally decided to let break through the walls. Finally, after a ridiculous amount of breathless anticipation, I have his tongue on mine.

I fold against him, letting myself go weak in his rock-hard arms as his tongue twists its way into my mouth. He tastes salty and sunburnt, like someone who has spent the whole day in the Tennessee mountain air swinging a hammer.

My hands slide up his arms, hungry for each next inch of skin that I can finally know more closely. This is all going right in my catalog. This may be our only chance, and I want to remember every single bit of it.

His muscles throb underneath me, tense from what I think is still physical restraint. He is holding back. I can feel the animal power of his body as my fingers pluck the hem of his T-shirt, urging it up, eager to pull it free of his body.

Oh my God, he is so perfect. He’s everything that I thought this was going to be. He kisses me like I am food. Like he hasn’t kissed anyone before me. Animal grunts vibrate in his throat and it almost feels like I am being eaten.

His fingers dig against my ass cheeks, barely moving, just holding still. I know he wants to do so much more than this. And I want to make that happen.

I have thought of almost nothing else in the last four months. It’s probably wrong how much time I have spent fantasizing about all three of them while I was watching their kids. Obviously it never affected my childcare, but is it wrong to want Harmony’s daddy so damn much? Distractingly much?

It might be a little wrong.

But right now, it feels amazingly right. It feels like something I knew was going to happen the first day I saw them. Somehow, I was going to end up with one of these amazing, beautiful, talented men. I just didn’t know which one, and I didn’t think it would take so fucking long either.

Suddenly, the thought occurs to me that he must’ve been thinking it too. These sounds he is making, I have heard them before. Was he holding back, or has he been teasing me all along?

They do seem to spend a lot of time shirtless. They do have excellent, gentlemanly, seductive manners. Have they been cultivating me, too, while I was fantasizing about them?

But all this time, nobody made a move. Maybe they wanted me, but nobody hit on me. Nobody tried to get me alone. Nobody asked me on a date. In fact, I have never seen any of them on a date with anybody. They have been like monks as far as I know. Not even a whiff of porn. A dirty magazine. A naughty joke or comment.

Then again, it’s almost always been a big group. Harmony and Cole take the most care, of course, and their dads are completely devoted. Plus, Ambrose, Boone, and Harrison are almost always together. There was little time to pull one away from the pack and get down to business.

The construction company they run is primarily the three of them, with an occasional part-timer here and there. They work like mad, sometimes eighty hours a week, coming home after ten o’clock at night all sweaty and exhausted, flopping onto the sofa in a pile of man meat and musky sweat that make my hormones surge every time.

But right now, this is one of those rare moments where it’s just me and one man. Two sleeping children. The other guys are still on the job.

I didn’t know who it was going to be… but I guess it is going to be Ambrose.

And fuck yes, I am ready for him. He pulls my hips closer to his and thrusts gently against me, nudging the front of my sex with the bulge in his jeans.

Isthatwhat that is? It’s so big, for a second I almost think it must be something else. A wallet, stuffed with bills, maybe. An anaconda. Makes me almost lose my head, and I kiss him even harder, as urgent as a teenager, shameless and wanting. I would throw my legs around his hips now if I thought making a bit of noise right here was a good idea.

“I waited a very long time for that,” he smiles when we finally break apart.

“You did?” I answer back, cutting myself off from asking him to please get me the hell into his bedroom immediately.

That’s what I want him to do, but it seems rude to just interrupt his thoughts if he’s going to say romantic stuff like that to me.

He stares down at me and squints just a little bit. Like he is really looking at me. Like he is looking through a microscope.

“Ever since the first minute,” he adds.

I can hear the sincerity in his voice. He’s been thinking it too. This is amazing.

Can I ask for a romantic relocation now? Should I? I am not sure. But I take the chance and reach out with one hand to stroke his thigh and the bulge in his jeans.

Oh my God. That is definitely his cock.

Do I usually act like this? No way. But right now, time is definitely of the essence. Forty-five minutes is probably down to forty right now, and I really want to take my time…

Because I have thought about this so many times. I thought about every single way that it could go. I thought about all the things he might want to do to me, and all the things that I might want to do to him. I want to savor it.

---