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Fuck. What was I trying to get at? That I’m a gigolo like most people think? Agh.

Tyson chose that time to burst out in tears again, his cries angry and shrill. I moved him to lay against my shoulder as she walked from the bathroom, drying her hair. The t-shirt fit her beautifully, the light color of it affording me a great view of her rosy red nipples as they pressed against the cotton.

“Here. Let me take him for a few minutes.” She reached for him and I handed him off.

I had a sudden need to apologize for my comments in the hallway, but I wasn’t the apologizing type of guy. It lodged in my throat and I simply forced myself to swallow it back down. It wasn’t happening.

“I’ll grab your clothes.” I walked to the bathroom and slipped into the steamy room. Her clothes were in a neat pile, her panties nothing more than a small black strip of lace accompanied by her matching bra.

“Beautiful,” I whispered, imagining her in both. I knew her boobs were large, but checking the bra, my suspicions were locked in. Most girls I ended up with were double D’s or so, so big tits were part of my past, but her D cup would be my delight. Just enough to hold in two hands and play with for hours.

“Sorry for the mess,” she called from the living room and I almost jumped out of my skin. If she had caught me checking out her bra size, I would have surely died.

“No worries,” I responded and slid my hand down into my slacks, tugging hard at my cock and groaning softly. I had to find release and soon. Doing it myself was starting to seem like the right answer for everyone involved. I didn’t want to deal with the messiness of having to come up with another lie to whomever picked up the phone and accepted my advancements. It wasn’t worth it when, honestly, all I wanted was the hot piece of ass in the other room.

I wadded up her clothes and walked back into the hall, dropping my hold on them a little to ensure they covered my throbbing arousal. I swear my dick was bobbing and dancing in an effort to draw her attention to it.

I couldn’t help but stop at the entrance to the living room when I laid eyes on her. She was cuddled up on the couch with Tyson, her long legs tucked under her and the t-shirt barely covering the luscious curve of her ass. I growled internally and forced my eyes to move up. The sweet smile on her face combined with the soft sound of singing threatened to melt my heart.

No. Stop it.

She glanced over at me and I felt exposed, fake and highly uncomfortable.

“Are we alone? I mean, you don’t have other staff roaming around, right? I need pants if you do.” She reached down and tugged at the hem of the t-shirt, hiding more of herself from me.

“No. I could have lots of staff, but I enjoy my privacy far too much.” I moved past her and walked toward the laundry room at the back of the penthouse. “I have a maid that comes twice a week, but other than her, no.”

“Not a chef either? Do you cook for yourself?” Her voice was sensual and innocent at the same time. The sound of it caused my balls to contract to the point of pain. Realization washed over me. I needed to get rid of her, or excuse myself for the next hour. I wouldn’t be able to stand the pressure of needing to explode much longer.

I dropped everything into the washing machine, started it and joined her on the couch, making sure to leave a lot of room between us. Tyson was asleep in her arms again, the peaceful look on his face so serene. I was jealous. She was giving him rest, and dropping buckets of hormonal rage on me at the same time.

“No. I cook some, but I usually just eat out. Makes life easier.” I shrugged and reached over to brush my fingers over Tyson’s head. I inadvertently touched her arm as I drew my hand back and the shiver that ran through her almost did me in. She hadn’t been touched in a while. I needed to remind her how good it could feel to be owned, to be worked, to be used.

“Where’s Tyson’s mother?” She glanced down at the baby and back up at me as the heat of my desire sizzled out.

Alice. My sweet sister who was working to save the world. She was the only person I’d ever met that could actually do anything she put her mind to. She wanted to save the world? So, she would. Or would have. But her life was snatched away from her... and her from us.

“She died in a plane crash.” I shrugged and ran my fingers through my hair. I couldn’t open that box up just yet. I still wasn’t sure we were going to have a long-term employment relationship yet. Sleeping with her would ruin that completely and yet I was just a selfish enough bastard to not care. Best to let the pretty little thing think Tyson was mine.

In all actuality—he was.

7 - Kendra

Jax’s news about Tyson’s mother was soul crushing. It took me a minute to gather my thoughts and force my jaw to close. He was good enough to flip the TV back on and turn away from me, leaving me to my morbid thoughts. I wasn’t sure what it felt like to lose a spouse, but to lose a parent... yes. I snuggled the baby in closer and kissed his temple before brushing my lips over the top of his head.

I whispered my thoughts softly, not quite aware that I was being watched again. “I’m so sorry.”

Strong fingers wrapped around my arm and squeezed softly. I glanced up at Jax as a tear dripped over onto my cheek.

“Thanks.” He nodded and gave a tight smile before releasing me and letting out a long yawn. “I figure we’ll fix up the bedroom upstairs for you. It’s not like Tyson’s going to be up all night. If he’s asleep, then you should sleep too.”

I wiped at my eyes with my free hand, working not to disturb the little sleeping bundle in my arms. Watching Tyson was one thing, but having a room at Jax’s house was odd. What if he brought another woman home?

Then he does. He’s a handsome man and needs to move on from the loss of his wife. What’s it to you?

Other than him being the center of my fantasies? Nothing.

He was older than me by a few years at least, and having already lived a bit of his life, he was smart enough to reach out and get help when help was needed. Did he not have any family around the area who could help too?

“That sounds good. I don’t mind sleeping during the day or even sharing a room with him. There’s a bed in his room. I remember seeing a small trundle. That will do.” I brushed my lips over the baby’s head again and breathed in deeply.

“No. I have plenty of room. We’ll work on your room later this weekend.” He reached over again and brushed his hand over Tyson’s back. “I can’t imagine growing up without my mother. She’s a good woman and I honestly wouldn’t be who I am today without her. Don’t tell her I said that.”

I smirked at the cute grin that slid across his devastatingly handsome face. “I’ll try not to.”

“Is your mom a good woman too?”

“I don’t know. I don’t honestly remember her.”

“Oh.” Jax pulled his hand back as his smirk fell. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s okay. I was five when she and my father were in a car accident. I was in the car too, but I only ended up with a few scrapes after everything was patched up.”

“Patched back up? On you?” Jax’s eyebrow lifted.

“Yeah. The truck in front of us was carrying thin metal pipes and I was riding in the backseat when it hit another car and flipped. The pipes impaled the car and pinned me to the seat, but killed my parents.” I tugged down the front of the t-shirt that I wore and glanced down. Just above the swell of my breast was a thickly puckered scar. “I have several of those.”