If You Give a Single Dad a Nanny: a single dad, grumpy sunshine, small town romance
If You Give a Single Dad a Nanny: Chapter 23

THE MOMENT I SHARED WITH Dylan at the gallery was the hottest sexual experience I’ve had thus far. I couldn’t care less that only a few hundred feet separated us from a room full of people. I was done for the second Dylan called me his good girl.

He stayed by my side during the rest of the show, keeping his hand on my lower back as he guided me through the crowd. His family stayed too, and never complained about having to wait around.

I considered skipping my exhibition altogether tonight because it was difficult knowing my family, once again, wouldn’t be there to show their support. Gavin picked me up from the hotel, afraid I wouldn’t show up if he didn’t. I was worried for nothing because the Staffords showed me more support tonight than I could have ever hoped for.

When we finally leave the gallery, Jack takes us to an upscale steakhouse, where we’re ushered into a stylish backroom that doubles as a speakeasy.

Dylan pulls out my chair, tugging it closer to his before motioning for me to sit. Once we’re both settled, he rests his hand on my knee under the table.

After our server takes our drink order, Harrison asks him a work-related question. I try to keep up with their conversation, but I’m lost after the third time I hear the term “ROI.” I’m relieved when Presley leans over, casually resting her elbow on the arm of my chair.

“I hear my mom’s been playing matchmaker for you and Dylan. I’m sorry if she’s overstepped. She means well, but as you’ve noticed, she gets carried away sometimes.” She glances over at Jack with a knowing smile.

“It’s okay. If it weren’t for her persistence, I might not be Lola’s nanny, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything,” I say, sidestepping her comment about Dylan and me.

“I’m happy to hear you say that.” She beams at me. “Lola talks about you whenever we video chat, and she adores Waffles. I hope you don’t mind me saying, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen my brother this happy.” Presley takes a sip of her water before leaning in closer.

“Underneath that grumpy exterior is a thoughtful man, willing to face any storm for the people he cares about,” she says in a hushed tone. “I understand that whatever is happening between the two of you is new, and you might not be ready to put a label on it yet. All I ask is that you be transparent with him about what you want… and what you don’t.” She looks over at Dylan who’s still deep in conversation with Harrison. “Lola isn’t the only person who easily gets attached.”

I’ve considered the potential impact of our current situation on Lola, myself, and even Waffles. The thought that Dylan might get hurt if this goes south hadn’t occurred to me until now. I figured he viewed our connection as fleeting, and it wouldn’t affect him if it ended or if I decide to leave Aspen Grove. However, my assumption was wrong.

“I’m glad you’re looking out for your brother,” I tell Presley. “I have no issue being honest with him. In fact, he’d probably prefer I was less direct at times.” I chuckle.

Presley bursts out laughing. “I can see why he likes you. You’re such a breath of fresh air. After tonight, consider me a lifelong supporter of your work. It’s absolutely incredible,” she gushes. “I fell in love with your sunflower piece and it devastated me when I saw someone had already bought it. I begged Jack not to, but he persuaded Gavin to cancel the original sale. Now I’m the proud owner of an original Marlow Taylor,” she says with pride.

Her sincere compliment means so much.

I glance over at Dylan and he squeezes my thigh under the table when he notices me watching him, leaving me breathless.

“Oh, you should have told me,” I turn back to Presley. “I would have been happy to make you a commissioned piece. I’m sure Gavin tacked on an obscene upcharge for the inconvenience.”

“It’s no problem. We want to support you. Especially after everything you’ve done for Lola and Dylan,” she says with conviction. “The sunflower will go perfectly in our entryway. We moved in together last June, but Jack’s idea of a comfy and cozy apartment is significantly different from mine.” She shakes her head.

“At least you have the final say in the décor. It’s obvious you have that man wrapped around your finger,” I say, my eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I think you and I are going to be great friends.” She grins.

My cheeks hurt from laughing so much. We spent several hours at the restaurant with Dylan’s family. It was loud, boisterous, and absolutely perfect. The Stafford siblings tease each other endlessly, but that doesn’t diminish the close bond they share. They’re fortunate to have such a strong support system, and it makes me wish I were a part of something that special.

I mustered the courage to invite Dylan back to my hotel as we left the restaurant. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye for the night, and it seems he wasn’t either. Presley assured us that Lola would be in good hands until he got back to her place in the morning.

As we exit the elevator onto my floor, I can’t help but nervously wring my hands. I’ve played out what our first time together might look like countless times. I never thought it would be in a run-of-the-mill hotel room in New York City. And now that we’re here, I’m worried it won’t live up to our expectations.

We stop outside my room, and I fumble with my keycard. After a brief struggle, I finally open the door, stepping inside and gesturing for Dylan to follow.

“It’s not much,” I say as I turn on the light. I look around the small space with a single queen-sized bed, a compact workspace in the corner, and a small en-suite bathroom. I’m sure it’s a shoebox compared to his accommodations at Presley’s apartment.

In the past, it didn’t matter since I usually came back to my hotel room alone. But this time I have Dylan by my side and for once I don’t feel the crippling sadness that I typically experience after one of my shows, knowing he’s going to take care of me.

“I don’t give a damn about the room,” Dylan states softly from behind me.

The door clicks closed and he spins me around and pins me up against the closest wall. He presses his hands against either side of my head, trapping me in. It takes me back to the moment we shared outside of Willow Creek Café, but this time I intend to let him kiss me, among other things. 

“I swear my siblings dragged out our dinner on purpose,” he complains. “I’ve been waiting to get you to myself all night.”

“Now that you have me, what are you going to do about it?” I ask in a sultry tone.

He rests his forehead against mine. “Marlow?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Walking into that gallery tonight and seeing you with Gavin nearly drove me mad.” There’s a touch of anguish in his tone. “The idea of you with someone else messes with my head.”

When I saw him walk in tonight, my heart practically leaped out of my chest. I didn’t realize how much I needed him there until he came to stand next to me, wrapping his arm around me in a reassuring grip. I’ll have to thank his mom for making it possible. Johanna might be pushy, but it was very much appreciated in this case.

I was moved by Dylan’s gesture of purchasing one of my paintings. It showed he genuinely cares about me and my endeavors, which means more than he knows.

“What are you saying?” I ask tentatively.

“Be mine, sunshine? The only person I want to be with is you.”

“Dylan, I can’t promise—”

“I know.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “All I’m asking is for tonight… and tomorrow. And the day after that. I’m fully aware that there’s a chance you’ll be leaving Aspen Grove soon,” he says in a solemn tone.

The very thought makes me uneasy.

“I want to see where this takes us because I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t.” He clasps my hands in his.

“I don’t want us to see other people either,” I admit. “What about Lola? I don’t think we should tell her anything for now.”

The last thing I’d ever want to do is break her heart if things don’t work out between her dad and me.

“That’s a good idea, but…” Dylan sighs. “I don’t want you to think you’re my dirty little secret.”

I erupt in laughter. “Oh, trust me, your siblings don’t doubt that you have feelings for me. Not after the way you reacted to seeing me at the gallery tonight. And besides, what if I don’t mind the idea?”

“What idea?”

“Being your dirty little secret.” I let go of his hands, and gently remove his glasses, placing them on the chest of drawers beside me. Dylan watches me intently when I drop to my knees on the floor in front of him.

“Marlow, what are you doing?” His voice is strained.

“Something I’ve wanted to do since you fingered me in the back of the gallery tonight,” I confess bluntly.

I unbuckle his belt and unfasten his slacks. He stands perfectly still as I pull down his zipper and tug down his pants. I gape at the sheer size of him straining behind his boxers before slowly dragging them down his legs.

I lift my hooded eyes to meet his smoldering gaze as I curl my fingers around his thick cock. He takes a sharp intake of breath as I move my hand up and down his shaft in slow, steady strokes. Pre-cum leaks from the tip, and I lean forward to lap it up with my tongue.

“Fuck, you’re sexy as hell,” he states.

Dylan winds his finger through my hair, urging me to take him in my mouth. I don’t hesitate, sucking the crown with fervor, and when he tightens his grip, coaxing me to take him deeper, I hollow my cheeks until his head is at the back of my throat. He lets me set the pace as I adjust.

“Such a good girl,” he croons as he strokes the column of my neck.

My panties are completely soaked through. His praise stirs a newfound desire within me, and I cup his balls, squeezing gently, as I suck him off. He loses all control, tugging my head forward, fucking my mouth with abandon as he lets out a low growl of approval. I’m drunk on the knowledge that I’m the reason for his unrestrained pleasure.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to come,” he groans.

His cock jerks under my hand as his cum fills my mouth. His eyes widen as I lap up every drop, licking him clean. When I’m finished, his cock springs free from my mouth with a loud pop.

“Damn,” he says with adoration, taking my hand to help me get up off the floor. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. Turn around and put your hands on the wall,” he orders.

I do as he asks, placing my palms against the faded wallpaper.

Every cell in my body is on fire as he pushes my hair over my shoulder, leaving my back exposed. He places one hand firmly on my hip and uses the other to slowly drag down the zipper of my dress—the suspense is unbearable. I exhale sharply as he grinds his rigid cock against my ass.

“You like that, sunshine?” he whispers in my ear. “Thinking about what it would feel like in that tight cunt of yours?”

“Oh god, yes,” I mewl.

“That’s my girl.” He brushes my dress off my shoulders.

I feel his breath against my skin seconds before he presses kisses down my neck. He unclasps my bra, releasing my aching breasts from their confines, and reaches around to brush my nipples with his fingertip in teasing strokes. I whimper when he rolls my nipples between his fingers, pinching them roughly.

I’m burning with desire. If this is how Dylan Stafford does foreplay, I can’t wait to experience what the sex will be like.

“God, I love that you’re so responsive,” Dylan states.

“Only for you,” I murmur.

“I like hearing you saying that.”

I whine in protest when he releases my nipples.

He pulls my dress down the rest of the way, letting it pool at my feet, before spinning me around to face him.

“Hold on tight, beautiful,” he urges, scooping me into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck as he carries me to the bed. He pulls down the comforter and top sheet, laying me in the middle of the mattress.

In a flash, he removes my shoes, and I lift my hips as he bends down to grab the top of my panties, dragging them down my legs. He tosses them onto the chair in the corner, standing in front of me fully clothed, while my body is laid out like a canvas before him—proof that he’s in total control tonight. The contrast fuels the red-hot arousal racing through me, and I have the sudden urge to hear him call me his good girl again.

Dylan kneels on the bed, leaning down to brush his hands up my legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. I wait with bated breath as he plants a kiss on my knee. His stubble rubs against my skin as he moves up my thigh inch by torturous inch. My legs quake with anticipation as he reaches the apex of my thighs.

He slowly licks along the seam of my pussy before plunging his tongue inside. I buck my hips, grinding against his face as I grip his hair in my fists. He eagerly explores, alternating between licking and sucking, and when he thrusts three thick fingers inside me, a tantalizing shiver courses through my veins. I gasp at the heat rippling through my core.

I’m already wound tight like a spring from having my mouth on his cock, and when I lift my head to see his head buried between my legs, I’m a goner.

“I need to come,” I whimper.

“Come for me, sunshine.” Dylan pinches my clit between his fingers, commanding my release, and I fall apart at his touch. My head drops back against the mattress as I call out his name while chasing euphoria, savoring every delicious moment.

“I don’t want to wait another second to be inside you,” he rasps. “Tell me I can go bare. I don’t want anything between us. I haven’t been with anyone since I was tested last year.”

I nod in agreement. “I’m on the pill, and I was recently tested too.”

He gets off the bed and strips out of his clothes in record time, leaving them in a pile on the floor. The Dylan I know would fold them neatly and set them on the dresser, but I’m rather enjoying witnessing his more relaxed side.

I lick my lips in anticipation as I get my first look at Dylan totally naked. I saw him with his shirt off the first week I nannied for Lola, but seeing him stripped bare is something else entirely.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I dramatically sigh, gesturing to his bare chest. Every ripple and curvature of his well-defined abs is on display.

“What?” He frowns, glancing down at himself.

“Dylan, you’re in your thirties and work at least eighty hours a week. Yet you’ve somehow maintained the body of a superhero. It’s so unfair.” I sigh. It probably helps that he avoids junk food like the plague.

He furrows his brow. “Hold on, did you just call me old?”

“Compared to me you are,” I quip.

“We’ll see who has the better stamina, won’t we?” He winks.

I can’t wait.

Dylan climbs onto the bed and hovers over me. He grabs hold of his shaft, lining himself up with my entrance, pushing to the hilt in a single thrust. Our intermingled groans fill the room as I adjust to his size.

“You okay, sunshine?” He restrains himself, waiting for my answer.

I can feel every glorious inch of him and it has me craving more.

“Move, please move,” I beg.

He intertwines our fingers, spreading my arms above me as he moves in a steady rhythm. I meet him thrust for thrust, basking in our connection. He has the ability to make me feel both cherished and seductive simultaneously.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls as he drives into me.

“Oh god, Dylan.”

“I can feel you clenching around my cock,” he pants out.

I can only whimper in reply, digging my heels into the mattress. He brushes his tongue against my lips before slipping it inside my mouth. I moan loudly as he picks up his pace, shifting the angle of his cock, pressing against my G-spot, and I gasp at the new sensation.

“I’m so close,” I say.

“Play with your clit like my good girl.” He drops his head against my shoulder, putting all his energy into driving himself deeper.

I obey, reaching between my legs and strumming my clit eagerly. The added simulation has me shuddering as I unravel beneath him, and he roars in triumph as he finishes alongside me. There’s no stopping the flood of emotions that washes over us as we come down from our heightened state of pleasure. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“You’re perfect, sunshine,” he croons, brushing a stray piece of hair from my face. “You okay?”

“Never been better,” I assure him with a sated smile.

“Why don’t we take a shower, and then I’ll give you a massage?”

“That sounds nice,” I say drowsily.

I’m grateful for Dylan’s caregiving nature and his enthusiasm to look after me. Now I just need to convince him that includes another round in the shower.

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