Page 46 of Tempt

Shit.

World, 1000. Nanny, 0.

I lunge out of bed and trip across the floor, not bothering to change out of my shorts and tank top.

I pad across the hall to his room. “Andy?” My voice is a croak.

His bed is made, and he’s not in it.

What the…

I trot downstairs. The strap on my tank top slips and I yank it up right as I stop in my tracks in the doorway to the kitchen and living room.

He’s eating his breakfast at the island.

Daniel’s cooking over the stove, his back bare above low-riding blue plaid pajama bottoms.

My throat dries.

The dream comes back, even more vividly than before.

I imagine I can smell him. Feel his lips move over mine.

I clear my throat. “Sorry, guys. I got a late start. Andy, do you need help picking out clothes for school?”

“I’m not going,” Andy says through a mouthful of pancakes. “Me and Dad are going to the arcade.”

“I don’t have any meetings. Figured I’d take Andy out of school to do some parent kid activities since I missed the field trip.” Daniel’s shoulders bunch as he flips pancakes off the griddle and onto a plate.

“Late night?” he asks.

His voice is rougher than usual. Or maybe I’m still fantasizing about him groaning in my ear.

“I don’t remember much.”

Now I’m picturing me sitting on the stove, him between my spread thighs.

He turns to face me.

He’s all dark eyes, an unshaven jaw and hair damp from the shower.

My gaze drags down his torso. In the morning light, the ridges of his abs are more subtle than the outline of his pecs.

My fingers itch to touch him.

He has a barbell in the garage but I’ve never seen him use it. If pushing papers and lecturing students has him looking this incredible, amen for higher education.

“I’ll put on a shirt. I didn’t expect you to be up yet.”

He starts down the hall and I grab his arm. “Wait…”

He stops abruptly and my eyes go to the spot we’re touching.

There are faint pinks scratches on his arms.

I flex my fingers, taking in the pointy ends of the manicure I finished before setting out for the party.

His expression betrays nothing, but dammit, I know.

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