Chapter Nineteen
Gabriel
Three minutes before my alarm, the way I always did. Years of surgical rotations and early morning rounds had trained my body to wake before dawn, regardless of how little sleep I’d gotten.
Except this morning was different.
This morning, there was a woman in my bed.
Cate.
She was curled on her side, facing away from me; the sheet tangled around her waist, her dark hair spread across my pillow. One arm was tucked under the pillow, the other resting on the mattress.
I didn’t move. Just watched her breathe.
In. Out. Slow and steady. She’d fallen asleep almost immediately after we’d talked, her body relaxing against mine, her breathing evening out within minutes. I’d stayed awake longer, my hand stroking her back, trying to process what had just happened.
What I’d just done.
I’d slept with my daughter’s nanny.
I’d crossed every professional boundary that existed.
I’d told her I was “all in” before we’d even had a first date.
And I didn’t regret a single second of it.
That should have terrified me.
The lack of regret. The certainty. The way my chest had tightened when she’d said “okay” in that small, breathless voice.
I’d spent years being careful. Controlled. Making decisions based on logic and reason, not emotion, and then Cate had walked into my life like a whirlwind with her rambling explanations and her anxiety and her terrible jokes, and every carefully constructed wall I’d built had started to crumble.
Last night, they collapsed entirely.
She shifted in her sleep, making a small sound, and the sheet slipped lower.
I could see the curve of her hip. The dip of her waist. The smooth expanse of her back, and my body responded immediately.
I was hard. Had been since I’d woken up and realized she was here, in my bed, naked and warm and mine. I knew I should get up. Take a cold shower. Go for a run. Do something to clear my head before Megan woke up, and we had to figure out how to navigate this new reality. But I didn’t move.
Couldn’t move.
Because Cate was here, and I wanted her again. Needed her again. The intensity of it should have alarmed me. This wasn’t like me. I didn’t lose control. I didn’t let desire override reason. Except with her, I did.
With her, I wanted to.
I shifted closer, my body curving around hers, and felt her warmth seep into me. She fit perfectly against me. Like she’d been made for this. For me.
My hand moved to her hip, fingers tracing the curve, and she made another small sound in her sleep.
Not quite awake. Not quite asleep.
I pressed closer, my erection against her ass, and heard her breath catch.
“Gabriel?” Her voice was rough with sleep, confused.
“I’m here,” I murmured against her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her skin.
“What—” She shifted slightly, and I felt her tense as she became aware of my arousal. “Oh.”
“I want you,” I said simply. No point in pretending otherwise.
She was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if she’d say no. If last night had been enough. If the reality of morning had changed things. Then she pressed back against me, a deliberate movement, and I heard the smile in her voice.
“Again?”
“Again.”
“It’s not even six AM.”
“I’m aware.”
“Don’t you have to—I don’t know—go for a run or drink protein shakes or whatever doctors do at dawn?”
I smiled against her neck. “Not today.”
“What about Megan?”
“She won’t be up for at least another hour.”
“An hour?” She shifted again, and I felt her relax back into me. “That’s... that’s a lot of time.”
“I don’t need an hour,” I said, my hand sliding from her hip to her stomach. “But I’ll take it if you’re offering.”
She laughed. A soft and breathy sound that went straight through me. “You’re very confident for someone who just woke up.”
“I’m a surgeon. Confidence is part of the job description.”
“Is seducing your nanny also part of the job description?”
“No,” I admitted, my hand moving lower. “That’s just for you.”
She sucked in a breath as my fingers found her, and I felt how wet she already was.
“Gabriel.”
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I said, my fingers stroking gently.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please don’t stop.”
I didn’t.
My fingers explored her slowly, deliberately, learning what made her breath catch, what made her press back against me, what made her say my name in that breathless way that made me want to hear it again and again.
“I need to be inside you,” I whispered against her ear.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Please.”
I reached for the nightstand, fumbling for another condom, as she made a frustrated sound. “Hurry.”
“Patience.”
“I don’t have patience. It’s six in the morning and you’re—you’re doing that thing with your fingers and I—”
I rolled on the condom and positioned myself behind her, my hand on her hip, then pulled her back against me. “Is this okay?” I asked, my cock pressing against her entrance.
“Yes. God, yes. Please—”
I pushed inside slowly, feeling her stretch around my cock, and we both made a sound. “Fuck,” I breathed. “You feel—”
“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please don’t stop.”
I didn’t. I pulled back and thrust again, deeper this time, and felt her body accept me completely.
This position was different from last night. Deeper. More intimate somehow, even though we’d already been as intimate as two people could be. My arm wrapped around her waist, holding her against me, and I set a slow, steady rhythm.
“Gabriel,” she gasped, her hand coming up to grip my forearm. “Oh God—”
I kissed her shoulder, her neck, the spot behind her ear that had made her shiver last night. “You’re so tight,” I murmured against her skin. “So perfect.”
“I—oh God—I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” I groaned, my hand sliding down to where we were joined, fingers finding her clit. “I want to feel you come around me again.”
She made a sound that was half-moan, half-whimper, and I felt her body start to tighten.
“That’s it,” I encouraged, my fingers circling, my hips maintaining that steady rhythm. “Let go.”
“Gabriel—I’m—I’m going to.”
“Come for me, Cate.”
And she did. Her body clenched around me, her back arching, and she cried out my name—muffled against the pillow but still audible, still perfect.
I followed her over the edge, my own orgasm hitting hard and fast, and I buried my face in her neck, breathing her in as I came.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, our bodies still connected. Then I carefully pulled out, disposed of the condom, and pulled her back against me.
“That was—” she started, then stopped.
“What?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have words. My brain isn’t working yet.”
I smiled against her shoulder. “Good.”
“Good?”
“I like you speechless.”
She laughed, the sound soft and genuine. “That’s rude.”
“But accurate.”
“Also rude.”
I kissed her neck, slow and deliberate. “I’m not sorry.”
She was quiet for a moment, and I felt her hand come up to cover mine where it rested on her stomach. “Gabriel?”
“Yeah?”
“What are we doing?”
There it was. The question I’d known was coming. The one I’d been asking myself since last night. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I meant what I said. I’m all in.”
“Even though I’m Megan’s nanny?”
“Even though.”
“Even though this is complicated and probably a terrible idea?”
“Even though.”
She turned in my arms, and I loosened my hold so she could face me. Her hair was a mess, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes still heavy with sleep and satisfaction.
She was beautiful.
“I’m all in too,” she said quietly. “I just—I don’t want to mess this up. Any of it. You, Megan, this job.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” I said, my hand coming up to cup her face. “Because I’m not going to let you.”
She searched my face, looking for something—doubt, maybe, or hesitation. She wouldn’t find it. Whatever this was between us, it was real. It was terrifying and complicated and probably the most impulsive thing I’d done in years. But it was real. And I wasn’t letting it go.
“Okay,” she whispered finally.
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
I kissed her slow and deep, and felt her melt against me. When I pulled back, she was smiling. “What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just—this is really happening.”
“It is.”
“You’re my boss.”
“I’m aware.”
“And I’m your daughter’s nanny.”
“Also aware.”
“And we just had sex. Twice. In less than twelve hours.”
“Your point?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “No point. Just—processing.”
“Process later,” I said, pulling her closer. “We still have forty-five minutes before Megan wakes up.”
“What are we going to do for forty-five minutes?”
I kissed her neck and felt her shiver. “I have some ideas.”
“Of course you do.”
“Problem?”
“No,” she breathed as my hand slid down her side. “Definitely not a problem.”
“Good.”
We had forty-five minutes.
I intended to use every single one of them.