Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I shouldn’t do it.
But at the same time, she’s watching my son, and I had no problem watching it when the other nannies were taking care of him.
“Fuck it.”
I’ll just click on it, confirm my son’s okay, and then get out.
No harm, no foul.
I check the living room first, but it’s empty.
So, I click on the camera that shows Leo’s room. I don’t have cameras in any bedroom but his. His door is closed, and he’s sleeping soundly in his crib.
I watch his chest rise and fall for several seconds. And I’m about to exit out of the app when a red dot pops up, indicating there’s activity in the hallway.
Curious—and if I’m honest, wanting to see Vanessa—I click on that camera, only to be met with a butt-naked woman running down the hallway.
Water is sluicing down her body, droplets hitting the floor as she damn near slides into the wall from her feet being wet.
I should exit out of the app, but I can’t stop watching as her perky breasts bounce while she runs straight for my bedroom. With the front of her body facing my door, I’m given the perfect view of her backside, and fuck if her ass isn’t as perfect as the rest of her.
She turns the handle, swings my door open, and disappears into my room, and I’m left wondering what the hell is going on and why she’s running around naked and dripping wet.
So, I do the logical thing and pick up my office phone and call her.
A few seconds later, she appears in the hallway again, still dripping wet and naked, running back to her bedroom.
If I wasn’t so confused as to what was going on, I’d be turned on.
Okay, fine. I am turned on.
This woman is a goddess, and the fact that I had sex with her and can’t remember it is a fucking shame.
“Hello?” she says, sounding out of breath.
“Why the fuck are you running around my house naked?” I ask, trying to keep the mirth out of my tone.
“Lorenzo?” she asks.
“Yes. Who else’s house would you be running around naked in?”
“Oh my God!” she shrieks. “Are you watching me on the cameras?”
“Why are you running around naked?”
“Stop watching the cameras!”
“Stop running around naked!”
She hangs up on me, and I chuckle. I’m about to click out of the app when she appears in the hallway. Still fucking naked.
She looks directly at the camera, giving me the perfect view of her body, and smirks.
“Better take a picture,” she says, knowing my security cameras have sound. “It lasts longer.” Then she raises her hand, flips me the bird, and turns on her heel, slowly sauntering back into her room.
Lorenzo
That sounded like you just gave me permission to use that footage for personal use.
I hit Send and then immediately regret it, knowing I’ve crossed the line. It’s one thing to mistakenly see her naked, but it’s another to imply I’m going to use said footage to jack off to.
I try to click Unsend, but she’s already read it.
“Shit.”
I wait for her to tell me I’ve gone too far, that I’m a fucking perv, and I wouldn’t blame her. But then her reply comes through …
Vanessa
Feel free to add it to your spank bank. And if you wanted to reciprocate, I wouldn’t say no. Girl has needs …
My thoughts go back to our kiss the other night, and I know I’m fucked. I wasn’t supposed to want my fake wife, but I do, and my admitting to Matteo and Kane that I want to ask her out on a date only cements what I already know—I’m done fighting it.
Lorenzo
Or I could take care of those needs myself.
Vanessa
I thought that’s what you just said—hence using the footage of me naked as your spank bank material.
Lorenzo
I meant your needs.
As the texting bubbles appear and then disappear, I hold my breath, wondering what the hell I’m doing. I haven’t even asked her out on a proper date. Yet I’m insinuating that I want more from her.
If Vanessa didn’t want to go on a date with me, would I be willing to have casual sex with her? I mean, we already fucked—despite me not remembering it—so I could make an exception for her.
But as I consider that option, I know that’s not what I want.
I want more.
More nights of playing cards and talking.
More banter.
More cooking dinner for us because she can’t cook for shit.
More time spent with her and my son.
I want more.
And that starts with taking her out on an actual date.
When it’s clear she’s not going to respond because she either doesn’t feel the same way—which is hard to believe since she said the kiss we shared was the best kiss she’d ever experienced—or I’ve spooked her, I change the subject, remembering the reason why I was checking the cameras in the first place.