Their Virgin Nanny
By SC Daiko
Genre: Contemporary/Menage Romance
Release Date: May 24, 2017
Two
super-hot daddies + one willing girl = sparks
ELERI
Working
as a nanny in an exclusive London borough for two bisexual alphas is my dream
job.
Except
Gabe and Luke are so damn hot they’re making me think dirty thoughts.
I can’t
have them, though… it would be totally outta line.
And
they couldn’t possibly be interested in a twenty-two-year-old virgin like me.
I
should give my V card to someone else, right?
GABE
AND LUKE
Sweet,
innocent Eleri doesn’t realize how cute she is.
Like a
breath of fresh air, a ray of sunshine, and every other cliché you can think
of.
She’s
also sexy as f*ck, tempting as sin, and trouble with a big T.
We wanna
take her, break her and make her ours.
We know
it’s wrong, she’s our kids’ nanny, but it feels so freaking right.
It’s
not like we’re gonna fall for her… not like she’s gonna fall for us either.
Just a
bit of fun… nothing more, nothing less.
Until
it isn’t…
I TURN
OFF Kensington High Street up a side road, and soon I’m standing in front of
their tall, narrow house, part of a terrace of similar properties. I walk up
the steps and press the bell, my heart thumping.
The door swings open and standing there is an Adonis. His green
eyes twinkle as he smiles, and there are actually dimples, dimples! at
the corners of his mouth. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a white shirt, and a
loose black jacket. I stare at him, and a stupid blush makes my cheeks hot.
“Eleri, I presume?” he asks in a deep voice.
“Please, it’s El air i. You stress the ‘air’ when pronouncing.”
And I find myself blushing again.
He laughs, an infectious laugh, and I laugh with him to hide my
embarrassment. “Gotta love Welsh names,” he says, showing me into the hallway.
“And the cute accent. I’m Luke Addison, by the way. Just call me by my first
name.”
If my cheeks were warm before, they’re burning up now. God,
I’m such a dork. Just because a man says something nice to me shouldn’t
make me go so red.
I follow him across the black-and-white tiled hallway, through
an open door into a sitting room which looks like it should be in one of those
glossy home decor magazines. There are plush white sofas set in an L-shape in
front of the fireplace. White walls, red curtains and carpets, and a black
coffee table.
A stern-looking man gets to his feet from where he’s been
sitting on one of the sofas. He’s taller than Luke by a couple of inches, and
just as good-looking.
Christ, Eleri, stop ogling. These guys are gay. End-of.
“I’m Gabe,” stern-looking man says in a gruff tone. His
dark-blue eyes bore into mine and it’s as if they wanna gobble me up for
dinner.
“Eleri,” I say in a shaky voice, holding out my hand. “Pleased
to meet you.” He’s a viscount, an aristocrat, should I curtsey? Nah, I tell
myself. Don’t be silly!
His grasp is firm and warm, but his eyes continue to eat mine;
they’re incredibly deep, like the ocean, fringed with to-die-for thick black
lashes. He’s wearing what look like designer blue-jeans, a crisp pale viola
cotton shirt and a similar black jacket to Luke’s. “Take a seat, Eleri,” he
indicates towards the sofa. “Tell us what made you decide to become a nanny.”
I perch on the edge of the couch facing the fireplace, and give
my spiel about loving kids and enjoying the early childhood degree I studied at
uni. Luke, sitting on the same sofa as me, his long legs stretched out in from
of him, is listening intently.
“Why London?” he asks, straight to the point. “I mean, it must
be quite a change from Wales.”
“I love the energy of this city,” I gush. “Don’t get me wrong.
I’m Welsh through and through, only I wanted to try something different.” I
keep to myself the fact that London wages are much higher than what I could
earn back home. I don’t wanna come across as money-grabbing.
Gabe pushes himself to his feet, and I can’t help noticing how
powerful his body is. “We’ve arranged for you to spend a couple of hours with
Abi and the boys. We trust her opinion implicitly as far as our sons are concerned.
She’ll report back to us after you’ve left, and we’ll email you when we’ve
reached our decision.”
The agency already told me this would be part of my interview,
so I’m not surprised. I have a lot of questions, and it will be easier to ask
them of Abi.
She must have been waiting in the adjoining room as she appears
almost as soon as Gabe goes to fetch her. Her smile is wide and welcoming, and
I return the gesture. Within minutes, she’s taken me up to the boys’ rooms… a
bedroom, bathroom and playroom on the fourth floor. “We can chat while they
mess about with their toys,” she says in a northern accent. “Then I’ll show you
my bed-sit at the top of the house.”
TWO
HOURS LATER, I’m on my way back to Notting Hill. The boys were amazing, and I
think they liked me. I loved Abi’s accommodation in the loft; the bedroom is
twice the size of my present one and the adjoining bathroom luxurious. Even the
cat was perfect; he’d sat on my lap, purring, and had let me stroke him while
Abi answered all my questions, telling me about her circle of nanny friends…
who can’t wait to meet me and arrange playdates with Matty and Jack. But when I
asked about their surrogate mother, it was like a shutter had come down over
her friendly expression. “Sharon is weird. I can’t quite put my finger on it,
except to say there’s something not quite right about her. You judge for
yourself, though. Maybe it’s just me.”
I agreed to reserve judgment. I couldn’t help a shiver pass up
my spine, and there was a brief heaviness in the atmosphere that felt ominous…
at least until Abi changed the subject and started telling me about Gabe and
Luke.
“They’re lovely guys,” she said. “The bee’s knees.” Then she
dropped a bombshell that left me open-mouthed. “Although they’re totally
committed to each other, they swing both ways,” she’d giggled. “One night, I
went downstairs to fetch something I’d left in the kitchen, and you can imagine
my surprise when I saw there was a woman with them and they were kissing her…
both of them.”
The penny dropped and my hand flew to my breast. “Oh. My. God!
They’re bi-sexual?!”
“Apparently. I’m only glad they didn’t see me as I wouldn’t have
known what to say.”
I’d licked my dry lips, and she must have caught my startled
look. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t happen that often, as far as I’m aware. After
all, I’ve been with them three years and only saw the once. They’re really discreet
about it.”
I’d
laughed and cracked a joke about disturbing orgies, except now the thought of
it is making me feel a hot and tingly sensation between my thighs. Gah!
SC Daiko is a romance junkie who loves
writing about strong heroines and hot alpha males. Her stories are sexy and
emotional reads. Originally from the UK, she now lives in Italy with her
husband and two cats. Nothing makes her happier than connecting with readers
and fellow authors.
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