Building a Family

By ML Uberti

Jamie knows to Daniel she’s just the babysitter for his brother’s children. She’s too young, too inexperienced, too shy for him. But she feels safe when she’s with him, and she wishes they could have more.

Daniel knows he’s too old, too rough, and far too wary for a beautiful young woman like Jamie. She should run away from him and what he wants and needs from her.

Unless they’re both wrong.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Jul 16, 2021

Book preview

Prologue

My dick was hard for the fucking babysitter.

The only thing that would’ve made it worse was if she was my babysitter. But no -- she worked for my brother Brandon, taking care of his three kids. In the house next door to mine. On late nights. In pants so tight they were nearly obscene.

First time I met her, I hadn’t been here a full week. My brother had convinced me to leave my gig for one with better pay -- closer to family. I made a shitload already but Brandon was itching to have me stateside again after I’d been gone half a decade in the army, then another twelve years working for Shell Oil, deep in ocean waters away from civilization. I think he was afraid I was going insane or becoming antisocial or something.

First time I saw her was Sunday dinner. I’d arrived on Monday, when I’d thrown the few bags I had down on the floor of the rental Brandon got for me and passed out, then done nothing but work the next six days. My first day off I wanted to get some furniture, maybe buy some shit for my fridge that wasn’t half-empty takeout containers. But Brandon insisted I come over and have dinner with him and Taylor, his wife, and his three kids, Austin and Becca, five-year-old twins, and two-year-old daughter Sierra. My brother had managed to knock up his wife again and she was due in four months with another boy.

A Lucas family trait was that none of us could keep it in our pants. If my brothers and I had anything in common it was as soon as we all hit fifteen, we couldn’t get enough pussy. Girls in school, from the town up the road, college chicks hitting the bars in Modesto where we grew up -- they were all fair game. And we played to fucking win.

But with pussy came chains. They wanted to lock you down, bleed you dry and make you fucking miserable. Didn’t want or need that shit so at thirty-eight years old, I knew I’d never settle down. Until I saw the babysitter.

Jamie! Austin can’t find his jersey! Taylor practically shouted in my ear from right outside the back door while my brother and I were both leaning against the counter of his kitchen, beer in hand.

I think it’s in the laundry basket in the basement! I’ll grab it! a soft, feminine voice called back.

Thanks, hon! Taylor let the door slam and joining my brother and I in the kitchen. I swear to God this house would fall down around our ears without Jamie.

Taylor worked with us at Valiant Drilling as the office manager. That’s how she’d met my brother. After six months of him asking her every damn day to go out with him, he finally wore her down and she said yes. They were married less than a year later, and two after that, Austin and Becca were born. Brandon told me as soon as he saw her, he knew. Like a boner to the heart, he stated eloquently.

I thought he was crazy. Taylor was cute, sure. Sexy in a way, with curvy hips and a little bit of sass. But tying himself down with one woman then having three-soon-to-be-four kids with her? Sounded like hell on fucking earth.

Then the door opened and swear to God, it felt like time froze.

I saw a flash of a slight frame, with my stare traveling from a pair of white sneakers, up a pair of slim, long legs that went on for miles, to an ass clad in a pair of black cotton leggings, a slight flare of hips, a flat stomach, a hell of rack, and then a face that was show-stopping. Her eyes were honey-colored, her hair dark, pulled up off her neck in a messy bun, and as I took in her full mouth, classic features and thick lashes, my dick went to steel.

She turned and faced me, the corners of her mouth tipping up as her golden brown eyes met mine. Hi! I’m Jamie. You must be Daniel. Brandon talks about you all the time. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and I felt that in my dick.

I swallowed a mouthful of beer so I didn’t have to respond and tipped my head up in a nod, meeting her gaze for just a second, then uncrossing my legs to try to get some room for my throbbing cock.

Didn’t work. She just kept smiling at me, then bounced away to the steps, and I got a good, long look at that ass. I swear to God my dick started to leak into my jeans.

I’ll help. It’s the least I can do since you do everything else, Taylor told the angel, setting down her bowl and trotting after the babysitter, as Jamie’s twinkling laugh drifted up the steps.

I watched them go, my body stiff in more ways than one, and after a few seconds, Brandon burst out laughing.

My gaze went to him, bent over and losing it. Oh shit, man. Haven’t seen that look on your face in a long time. Since you were fourteen and had Miss Harrison for geometry. You had to hide your hard-on behind your textbook for a whole semester. Classic!

My brother was still laughing at me as I finished off the beer I had in my hand and grabbed another one, not saying a word.

He wasn’t wrong.

Don’t feel bad, man. Half the guys in town want to slip it in Jamie Grant, Brandon told me, finally getting control of his laughter and standing up straight. I was already halfway through my second beer and my dick hadn’t gone down an inch.

She’s a fucking kid, I croaked out, hoping to God he told me she was at least legal. Then I wouldn’t feel like a Goddamn pervert.

She’s twenty. Almost twenty-one, Brandon said, a sly smirk still stuck on his face. Trust me, when she turned eighteen, most of the guys at work breathed a sigh of relief they wouldn’t end up in jail for taking a run at her.

My grip on my Sam Adams tightened. If I held it harder, it would shatter in my damned hand.

I didn’t want anyone taking a run at her. Ever. And I was sure if my brother had told me she had a boyfriend, or a husband, I was would rip his countertop out and hurl it through a window.

I heard voices drifting upward and feet on the steps and I knew that in a moment, that little dark-haired vixen would come into view again. I warred with myself -- thought about going to the bathroom, maybe stroking my dick that was already feeling massive. Running home before jacking off, making an excuse and telling my brother we’d do dinner another time. Or just not looking at her.

I did none of that. Instead, as soon as she came up the steps, I stared at her and couldn’t look away. She set the laundry down on the table and almost brushed against me. Thank God she didn’t because I’m pretty sure I would’ve thrown her down on the floor and fucked her into the tile.

I watched as she chatted with Taylor, folding clothes and laughing, my eyes glued to her mouth, her face, her back, her ass, her fucking feet. I couldn’t get enough, couldn’t consume her fully or fast enough.

All my shit of a brother did was watch and grin, and I said not a word as the hot little nanny stood there, then helped Sierra get a juice box, then set the table with Becca, then sat next to me for the longest meal of my Goddamn life.

She bumped my arm twice. Her knee hit me once. I could smell her constantly, her scent like apricots or peaches, something Southern and sweet. I couldn’t tell you what she said or talked about but by the time dinner was over, I was half in love with her.

Then she bent over me to clear my dish and I had to go. I couldn’t take it. I nearly knocked her out of the way as I mumbled an excuse and kissed my nieces and nephew on the heads, practically running for the front door and into my place.

I barely breached the front door and had my hand in my jeans and was jerking my cock -- three long pulls all it took until I exploded on my hand and floor harder than I had in my life.

* * *

That was March. By the beginning of June, I had nearly gone insane. She was constantly around next door, playing with the kids, helping with baths and cleaning on Sundays while I watched hockey at Brandon’s. And then there were her Goddamn morning runs.

She lived just a few blocks over and I swear she timed it to torture me. Every morning when I left for work just before seven a.m., there she was. Running in the sexiest pants ever crafted, sometimes in a coat, or mittens. Sometimes she wore a hat or just a few layers of clothes. If it snowed, she kept to the sidewalk, since many of them were cleared by that time of day. If they weren’t, she was on the side of the road.

And every time I saw her, I fucking hated myself. I had already jacked off that morning thinking of her while in the shower, and then I spied her on her run and I was hard all Goddamn day.

Almost twice her age, nearly three times her size and definitely not the right man for her, but Goddamn if I didn’t want to bury myself between her thighs, balls deep and never leave.

She was friendly, with little waves and sweet smiles. But I didn’t talk to her, didn’t bother. Why the fuck would I? I couldn’t have her.

I’d seen buddies of mine go down this same road with other women. They saw someone hot as fuck, they thought that a hard cock equaled love and then the girl ran all over them and left them crushed and broken.

Jamie Grant was gorgeous enough that she could decimate a dozen men at the same time. I didn’t know if I could trust a girl that pretty, that sweet, that young. Maybe it was an act. Maybe she was into trapping guys and getting them to give her what she wanted. I didn’t have a ton of experience in relationships and if I got with a girl like her, I wouldn’t be able to hump and dump. I’d need it to mean more.

Then one morning in early June, when it was cloudy as shit with a sudden rain coming down even though it had been sunny ten minutes ago, I saw her up ahead as I drove into the plant for the morning shift. There was a flashy car parked haphazardly on the side of the road, nearly up the curb and I caught a glimpse of her olive-green jacket. She was struggling with a man.

I could barely make it out but as I got closer, my vehicle the only one on the road besides this other car, I pressed the window down just enough to hear her say, No, Cort.

And I was done. I slammed my truck into park, nearly crunching into the bumper of the sedan as I skidded to a stop.

By the time I got close enough, I could see a tall kid, just about her age, yanking on Jamie’s arm and trying to drag her into the open driver’s side door of his vehicle.

And all I saw was red. She was struggling, firmly telling him no, and he was either dumb or deaf and not listening and that wouldn’t stand.

He noticed me a split second before I was on him, tearing him away from Jamie and hurling him up against his ridiculously expensive car. He was stunned at first, a young idiot probably mid-twenties with muscles that had no purpose but to fill out a stupid T-shirt.

"You’re