Military Daddies’ Nanny (Lucky Women’s Daddies Reverse Harem #1)

Chapter 8

Nathan

I fume at the thought of those unsavory bastards attempting to touch Nancy. My heart is filled with jealousy, and if those sick fucks had so much as waited a second longer, they'd have ended up in the hospital with a couple of fractured ribs and broken bones. Idiots!

The mere thought of their attempt at harassment angers me, but I'm relieved that she didn't indulge them.

I head upstairs to my bedroom, still riding the high from my heated kiss with Nancy at the bar. I can't get the feeling of her soft lips moving against mine out of my head, or the way her body seemed to melt into me when I pulled her close.

Letting out a long breath, I flop down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling, replaying the whole encounter over in my mind. Nancy's drunken confession about finding me, Drew, and Carlos attractive had been…unexpected, to say the least. But also definitely intriguing.

I’ve only just met her, but I can’t deny the sexual tension I felt between us from the moment I saw her. I felt it at dinner, and every time I was in the same room with her.

Unfortunately, she’s Drew’s employee, and harboring any feelings beyond platonic friendliness would be wildly inappropriate.

And yet, I can't deny the powerful pull of attraction I feel any time she’s around. Her warmth and light seem to draw me in like a moth to a flame. Those sparkling green eyes and dimpled smile make my heart stutter every damn time.

I know I'm not alone in noticing how gorgeous she is, either. The looks Drew and Carlos have been shooting her way make it pretty obvious they're just as smitten.

Drew tries to play it cool with his typical brooding intensity, but I've caught him openly ogling Nancy's curves more than once when he thinks no one is paying attention.

As for Carlos…well, the man has never been one to hide his interests or desires. He clearly finds Nancy attractive and will subtly steal glances at her, earning him irritated glares from my brother.

This indicates that there's something magnetic about Nancy that has all three of us slowly going mad with want. Her drunken confession tonight felt like it was giving voice to all that smoldering tension that I can feel steadily ratcheting up since she stepped into our lives.

I can't stop thinking about how boldly she admitted to finding us attractive, with no hint of embarrassment or shame about the fact that her desires seem to encompass all three of us. If anything, she looked almost…relieved to finally get it out in the open.

My cock twitches insistently in my jeans as I picture the heated look in Nancy's eyes right before our lips met. She had been practically devouring me with that intense stare, desire, and need written plainly across her features as she leaned in close.

Groaning softly, I give in and palm at the stiff bulge straining against the taut denim. I can't resist giving myself some relief…not with memories of Nancy's plush lips and the breathy whimpers she made against my mouth flooding my mind.

It's been so long since I've been intimate with anyone, my body is feeling ravenous and alight with arousal. Damn her for torturing me like this with nothing more than a kiss.

"Get a grip, Nate," I mutter to myself, trying and failing to will away the throbbing ache between my legs.

Finally giving in, I tug my zipper down and shove a hand into my boxer briefs, fisting my swollen length with a relieved hiss.

I give myself a few firm strokes, hips bucking eagerly into the tight channel of my fist as I let my mind drift back to Nancy's lush lips and her unbelievable curves.

Sensation fills me like a tank filled to bursting, and I squeeze my eyes shut, picturing Nancy, naked, sprawled in bed beside me, her huge breasts resting lazily on my chest.

Images of Nancy's pouty lips and hooded bedroom eyes swim behind my closed lids as my strokes turn longer, twisting over the slick head of my dick. Short puffs of air punch out of me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge I so desperately need to tumble over.

I should feel guilty, indulging in such intimate fantasies about a woman under my own roof. But the memory of Nancy's soft whimpers as our tongues tangled burns too brightly for any restraint.

With a guttural groan, I let the ecstasy of release finally crest over me in shuddering waves.

Long moments pass as I lay there, chest heaving and seed cooling stickily on my belly, waiting for the guilt to set in over what I've done.

But it never comes. My mind is blissfully blank, as though that intense climax finally managed to purge some of the overcharged lust Nancy awoke in me tonight.

A hazy sort of contentment replaces the blazing hunger, at least for now. I know my turbulent desires haven't abated permanently. Not with Nancy's heated confession about all three of us still ringing in my ears, stoking the fire all over again with the promise of mutual want.

This isn't going to cut it . As good as it feels, I need more stimulation to satisfy my blazing lust. I can’t remember the last time I was this aroused by someone, and the sticky cum sliding down the side of my body finally starts to disgust me.

I consider seeking her out to get some satisfaction but discard the idea for two reasons. The first being that Drew would absolutely lose his shit if he found me going into Nancy’s bedroom so late at night—and the bastard sleeps so lightly, he could hear a pin drop in his sleep.

The second and most important consideration being the fact that she’s considerably drunk. I have never taken advantage of a woman before, and I don’t intend to start now. But damn it, I’d be lying if I said I don’t want to bury my cock deep inside her. Right now .

I get out of bed and step out of my clothes, hoping a cold shower will help me blow off some steam. I’ve just had an orgasm, and yet, just thinking of Nancy a few doors away has me as hard as a rock again in a heartbeat.

The shower helps, thankfully, but after ten minutes of tossing and turning in bed, I give up any hope of finding sleep tonight.

I can hear the TV before I get down to the bottom of the stairs. I make out a few words from the television, and I don’t need to look in to know who’s out there, or what he’s watching.

Carlos is sprawled on the living room couch, wearing briefs and a tank top. His legs are draped idly over the back of the couch, and his eyes are glued to the true crime documentary playing on the TV.

It’s not unusual for him to be here so late. He uses the guest room sometimes and shuttles between here and his apartment incessantly. Drew and I never talk about it, but we understand. After being in the service, the loneliness can be a bitch. Fortunately, we’re just twenty minutes away, and the kids love him.

He glances up as I enter, thick eyebrows raised inquisitively. "You're up late, hermano . Everything okay?"

I make my way over to the couch and kick him lightly. He mutters a curse under his breath and takes forever to move into a sitting position.

Rolling my eyes, I drop onto the couch next to him with a huff. On the TV screen, a heavily tattooed detective is being interviewed about a grisly unsolved murder case.

"Hey, fill me in," I say by way of greeting, gesturing to the show. "What kind of depraved shit are we watching tonight?"

Carlos lets out a low chuckle, always appreciative of my morbid curiosity when it comes to his favorite true crime shows. He launches into an explanation of the complex case being explored, laid out in his usual overenthusiastic way.

“All right, so get this,” Carlos says, his eyes shining with excitement. “Back in 2008, this small town in Montana was rocked by a string of bizarre murders. At first, the victims seemed completely random—a retired teacher, a teenage boy, a middle-aged accountant.

“But as the bodies kept piling up, the cops finally caught a pattern. Each victim had recently come into a pretty sizeable inheritance. The murders were all meticulously planned too, no signs of forced entry or defensive wounds. Whoever was doing this was one cold, calculated son of a bitch.”

As he gets going, I feel the heated tension slowly bleeding out of me, replaced by a sense of easy camaraderie. Despite my raging lust, there's something calming about listening to Carlos holding court on one of his favorite subjects, allowing the gruesome details to simply wash over me.

Carlos' narration of the show is impeccable, painting a vivid picture of the whole event like I am actually watching it. The man is talented in that area.

It turned out that the killer was running an elaborate scheme to ingratiate himself with wealthy locals, earn their trust over years of contact, then manipulate them into updating their wills in his favor before knocking them off. The guy was fucking psycho!

Maybe ten minutes pass with Carlos still enthusiastically recapping things before I finally cut him off with a wry shake of my head.

"You know, I really just wanted a quick summary, not the full audiobook experience," I tease him lightly. "But now that I'm all caught up on…whatever this terrifying saga is, I've got something interesting to fill you in on too."

Carlos raises an intrigued eyebrow, his dark eyes glinting with undisguised curiosity. I know he can always sniff out when there's some juicy gossip to be had.

"Do tell, Nate. You've got my interest piqued now."

Leaning back against the couch, I launch into recounting my whole heated encounter with Nancy from earlier at the bar. I try to keep my tone nonchalant, but I know a hint of that simmering desire creeps into my voice as I describe the bold way she confessed to finding the three of us attractive.

By the time I get to the heated kiss we shared, all semblance of detached cool has fled. I can hear the rough edge of arousal coating my words as I speak in a low rasp, unconsciously licking my lips as I replay the taste and feel of Nancy's mouth moving ardently against mine.

Carlos is watching me with rapt attention, a wicked gleam sparking to life in his intense gaze. "Shit, Nate," he rumbles in appreciation once I've finished. "No wonder you came down here looking all worked up with a story like that burning you up inside."

I huff out a breathless chuckle, shrugging one shoulder. "What can I say? Nancy really threw me for a loop tonight. I didn't expect her to be so bold, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Carlos purrs, giving me an assessing look. "Innocent little Nancy, revealing she's not quite the blushing virgin type. Who would have thought? Gotta say I'm fully on board with this new, adventurous side she's showing us."

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, the blatant spark of lust in his expression mirroring mine from just a few moments ago. Carlos has never made any effort to hide his interests or desires, especially not from me. We've shared enough over the years to know exactly what the other likes, the three of us.

“Jesus, Carlos,” I tease, shaking my head. “I can already see you tossing her around in your head. Sick bastard.”

He shrugs and turns back to the TV. “What can I say? If she’s offerin’, then I’m takin’. Simple as that.”

“You’re shameless.”

“And yet,” he counters, glancing at me from the corner of his eye, “not once did I hear you say you turned her down…”

That makes me laugh. An easy, honest laugh that bleeds out all the pent-up tension I’ve been feeling. “Yeah, right.” We sit in silence a little longer before I add, “I wonder how Drew is going to react to finding out his nanny is trying to fuck him.”

Carlos’ grin is so wide, it reminds me of the Cheshire cat from the kid’s book. “Probably going to throw the book of moral conduct and professional etiquette at her…right after he fucks her brains out.”

I laugh uncontrollably. “It’s Drew we are talking about here.”

“Nathan…” Carlos says, his eyes uncharacteristically serious. “Have you seen Nancy?” He whistles low and long, and we fall silent after, both of us no doubt thinking about the very beautiful woman living with us.

“I think it was just the alcohol making her talk crazy, though,” I say after a long silence. “For all we know, she may wake up tomorrow and forget that any of this even happened at all.”

“There’s one thing I’ve come to learn in my life, hermano . People often mean the things they say when they’ve been drinking. Actually, I think they may mean those things even more than the shit they say when they are all sobered up.”

I shrug in response, trying not to settle on those words. “I guess we’d find out soon how serious she was. It’s just so…weird. This is the type of shit you read about in romance novels. Never thought I’d actually witness it in real life.”

“So we both get to fuck the same woman,” Carlos says in a bored voice. “Big whoop. Won’t be the first time…” He eyes me knowingly, and I groan in frustration, shutting my eyes.

“Really? That again? Didn’t we agree to never ever bring that up, for any reason?”

He chuckles. “Boy, the army was fun. I mean, not the part where our entire platoon almost got blasted off the top of a mountain, but the locals…good times.”

“I’m not discussing this with you, Carlos.”

"You remember that little Thai masseuse you were so obsessed with back on duty in Hawaii? How you’d describe her tiny hands working over every inch of your body?"

I ignore him, but his words transport me back to those sweltering nights.

"Or what about that server at the club in Manila?" he continues. "God, I can still picture her in that tiny little skirt, bending over right in front of your face as she refilled our drinks. You wanted to eat her out right there at the table, didn't you?"

And just like that, my mind is back to Nancy, to all the filthy things I want to do to her. I remember the woman Carlos is talking about, although her name is lost now. I remember how the two of us took turns fucking her, and how she still cried for more several hours in.

Déjà vu .

" Dios mio , just look at you," Carlos chuckles darkly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I get up from the couch, hoping to God that Carlos doesn’t realize how hard I am. “You, my friend,” I say as I head to the stairs, “are one sick man. Get help.”

Carlos snickers and waves me off without looking away from the television. I climb up the stairs, wondering what devil possessed Drew to hire the sexiest woman in the world as a nanny for his kids in the first place.

Crazy as it sounds, that’s not even the most mind-blowing thing about her. She’s…different. I’ve tried to find a word to describe her, but nothing fits. And that—the knowledge that there’s so much more to unravel about her—is an even bigger pull for me than whatever I may be feeling physically.

And I’m not yet sure what to make of any of it.