Chapter 2
TWO
Anna
My insides twist as I stare at my phone. Package delivered.
I glance at the dashboard clock. Elijah’s soccer practice should have ended fifteen minutes ago, but the coach still has them running drills. Oh God, what if he gets home before me?
He being Jeremy Chase. My ultra-wealthy, hot-as-hell, and way-too perceptive employer. If he intercepts that package, I’m screwed.
Of course, I’ve been screwed since starting this job four years ago, not that I realized it at first. Initially, Jeremy frightened me, which I now realize was probably his intention. He puts a lot of effort into holding other people at arm’s length.
Living under his roof, however, I couldn’t help but get sucked into his orbit. There’s a quiet intensity to him that draws you in—more so even than his sinful body. Dark hair, soulful eyes, chiseled jaw—he’s magnetic whether wearing a bespoke suit or jeans and a T-shirt.
No, even with his cold exterior, I doubt that I’m alone in finding Jeremy attractive. That said, I doubt that other women react to him in quite the same way…
The passenger-side door opens, and Elijah gets into the car, interrupting my completely inappropriate train of thought. “I still don’t see why you have to pick me up like I’m a baby. Max and Xander live farther away, and they’re allowed to take the bus.”
Inwardly, I cringe, hating the reminder that it’s nearly time for me to move on and stop being Elijah’s nanny, but all I say is, “That’s a topic for you to debate with your dad. You know I don’t make the rules.”
Privately, though, I have to agree with Elijah. He is growing up. He’ll be fourteen next month. Next fall, he’ll be starting high school. Soon, my contract expires, and his dad hasn’t mentioned renewing it.But why would he?Elijah doesn’tneed a full-time nanny anymore. And neither does Jeremy.
Crap! Jeremy! He’s going to beat me home.
I try to stay calm as the car crawls through the rush hour traffic. But it’s a losing battle.Because that package that was just delivered?
It was a sex toy. A vibrator, to be exact.I’ll die if Jeremy finds out.
Oh, I get that a sex toy isn’t that scandalous of a purchase for a college student with a healthy libido. Growing up in the convent didn’t mess up my head that badly. And given the morality clauses in my employment contract, it’s almost understandable. If I’m not allowed to date, is it really that strange that I’d take matters into my own hands—so to speak?
But while my purchase doesn’t technically violate my contract, I’m not sure that Jeremy will see it that way. If nothing else, he’ll be disappointed. And the thought of disappointing him honestly terrifies me more than I’m comfortable admitting.
Because Jeremy is the last person I want to disappoint. Truthfully, he’s my favorite person in the world. And he’s nothing at all like I assumed a member of Cygnus Niger would be.
Not only is he a great father, he’s a good person. Beneath his icy exterior, he has the biggest heart of anyone I know. And despite all his money and power, when you get to know him, he’s really just a lovable geek.
But it’s not just that I find him insanely hot. I’m happier when I’m with him. I wouldn’t trade our quiet evenings at home as a family for anything. I can’t stand the thought of him thinking poorly of me.
And he would think poorly of me if he knew the truth. If he knew that I was hopelessly obsessed with him, he’d have to fire me. He’d have no choice.
And I am—hopelessly obsessed. Completely erotically fixated, if I’m being honest with myself. I’m half afraid that he already suspects.
It’s so hard to act normal, let alone professional, around him. Especially lately. He’s started teasing me and casually invading my physical space—but not in the sexual way I fantasize about. No, he treats me more like a friend—or worse, a kid sister.
Don’t get me wrong. I’d never do something as unprofessional as flirt with him. Besides, what would be the point when he’s so far out of my league? Because he totally is. There’s nothing about me to interest a guy like him.
Sure, I’m good at my studies, but I have no life experience. I spent my entire childhood in a freaking convent before basically becoming an overpaid babysitter. Not to mention that I’m not even his type. Or at least it’s doubtful that I am.
It’s hard to say what his type is since if he dates, he’s secretive. But it seems safe to assume that his ex-wife is the sort of woman he prefers. And while she may not be very involved in their son’s life, I’ve met her and we are nothing alike. She’s tall, thin, willowy, and brunette—not to mention sophisticated, poised, confident. Heads turn when she enters a room.
In other words, my exact opposite.
Oh, I get that there are different ways to be beautiful, and I know that I’m objectively pretty. Plenty of guys ask me out. But even if my contract didn’t prevent me from dating, I’d still turn them down. How could I date them when any time I close my eyes, I see only one man’s face?
Yeah, I’ve got it bad all right. The moment Jeremy walks into a room, my underwear is instantly damp. It’s gotten so bad that I feel like I’ll crawl out of my skin.
Because it’s not just that I’m obsessed with my boss—I’m broken.
As crazy as my libido is, as turned on as Jeremy makes me, I’ve never once had an orgasm. Oh, not for lack of trying. And believe me, I’ve tried.
Sister Ursula would say that it’s a punishment for my perverted fantasies. Maybe it is. And maybe working for Jeremy Chase is a punishment, too.
Punishment or not, ordering a sex toy online and having it sent to the house was a major lapse in judgment. A mistake that I’m terrified is about to blow up in my face.
Because when we get home, there’s no sign of my package. And when the garage door rises, it reveals Jeremy’s BMW. Crap.
Elijah and I enter through the kitchen, and I call out for Jeremy. No answer. Sylvia, our housekeeper, also appears to have already left for the weekend. Odd, she’s usually still here when we get home from soccer.
“Looks like Dad went on a run,” Elijah says, inclining his head toward the rack next to the door where Jeremy keeps his running shoes. “Can we order a pizza since Sylvia isn’t here? I’m starving.”
“She probably left something for us to heat up,” I reply, hoping that he doesn’t notice my anxiety.
Trying not to worry, I open the refrigerator to see what she left us but find nothing. Okay, that is weird, but whatever.
“Pizza?” Elijah asks again, a hopeful note in his voice.
I shake my head. “You know your dad won’t be cool with that. You had pizza at school today. Grab a snack to tide you over, and I’ll whip us something up.”
Elijah groans but doesn’t argue. After he’s disappeared into the game room with a plate of apple slices and a bowl of popcorn, I run upstairs to check my room, praying that Sylvia received the package and placed it there. Nothing.
Returning to the kitchen, I start prepping dinner. No package. No Jeremy. Those two things aren’t necessarily related, but they might be, and with my luck, they are. Could the delivery notification have been wrong? Maybe it was delivered to one of the neighbors instead...
And then maybe the neighbor brought it over, and Jeremy opened it... Or worse—the neighbor opened it and told Jeremy what a freak I am. Or maybe Sylvia opened it and was so grossed out that she didn’t bother making dinner even though she always makes dinner on Fridays...
Knowing this line of thought is not helpful, I try to focus on chopping vegetables. But my mind keeps returning to the package, running through all the humiliating scenarios that might be about to unfold once Jeremy gets home.
What if he’s opened the package and confronts me? God, I’d feel like a teenager who’s disappointed her daddy—
Daddy.
My face heats, and I’m grateful that I’m alone.
That’s another secret that Jeremy can’t discover. It’s starting to feel like I have too many to count. Because I don’t just find my boss sexy. I don’t just fantasize about losing my virginity to him. I fantasize about calling him “Daddy.” I fantasize about that a lot, actually. Just the thought of Jeremy combined with that word...
Setting the knife down, I undo my jeans and slip a hand into my underwear. I’m ashamed but not surprised to find that I’m wet.
Soaking wet and stupidly turned on.
My breath catches as my fingers slide over my folds, desire pooling in my belly. I shouldn’t be doing this—not at all and definitely not in the kitchen with Elijah only a floor below me and definitely not when his father could return at any minute.
But I can’t help it. It’s like the thought of Jeremy combined with that word flips some secret, screwed-up switch in my brain and I become a sex-obsessed maniac.
God, what’s wrong with me? The sisters were right—I’m a sexual deviant, just like my mother. Maybe I should have just whored myself out like they wanted me to—it would have been better than this torture, better than living with a man who I’m so attracted to that I feel like I’m going insane.
My hand moves faster, even though I know it’s futile. If I could get myself off, I wouldn’t have bought a vibrator. Yet the pointlessness somehow isn’t enough to make me stop, not when it feels so good...
Even if I do wish it were Daddy’s hand and not my own.
That naughty thought is too much. I need to get out of these jeans, need to lie down and touch myself properly.
Telling myself that I can finish making dinner later, I rush upstairs, still rubbing my clit. For one reckless moment, I almost remove my jeans on the stairs—that’s just how horny thinking about Jeremy being my daddy makes me.
Luckily, I still have enough sanity left not to risk that with Elijah in the house and manage to wait until I get to the privacy of my room, but it’s a close call. Locking my door behind me, I fall back onto my bed, grateful that no one can see exactly how out of control I’ve become.