She’s in her early twenties and came highly recommended. But the deciding factor was the fact that Esme warmed to her immediately.
“I can trust her with my son.”
That’s what Esme had said after our second interview with her. I felt the same.
I watch as Talia scoops Phoenix up in her arms and exits the room quickly. The moment we’re alone, I grab my wife and press my lips down on hers.
“Boy,” she gasps, when I pull back, “you don’t waste any time, do you?”
“You dress like that and expect me to keep my hands to myself?” I ask. “Keep dreaming, woman.”
I find her mouth again, and her lips part for me immediately. I push her up against the nearest wall and my hand starts sliding up her dress—just as I hear the click of the door on the other side of the room.
“f**k,” I growl, just as Esme
