Their Virgin Nanny

Title: Their Virgin Nanny 

Author: S C Daiko 

Genre: MMF Menage Romance 

Two super-hot daddies for one sweet, sexy girl. 

ELERI 

Working as a nanny in an exclusive London borough 

for two bisexual alphas 

is my dream job. 

Except Gabe and Luke are so freaking 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’ll have to find someone else to punch my V card, right? Yeah, 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 pop her cherry and make her ours.  

We know it’s wrong, she’s our kids’ nanny, but it feels so frigging 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…  

 Amazon Worldwide

“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.”  

My hand had flown to my breast. “They’re bi-sexual?!” 

“Apparently. I’m 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 their orgies, except now the thought of it is making me feel a hot and tingly sensation between my thighs. 

*** 

Abi invites me to her room for a glass of red wine and some popcorn, and we settle ourselves down on the giant floor cushions in front of the low table. “What was the woman like that you saw down in the kitchen with Gabe and Luke?” I ask the question that’s been festering at the back of my mind. 

“Blonde. Curvy.” There’s a sparkle in Abi’s eyes. “Why do you ask?” 

“Just curious.” I chew my lip. “I’ve never been with one man, so I can’t imagine what it would be like to have two.” 

Abi’s mouth forms an ‘o’. “You mean you’ve never had sex?!?” 

“No. I haven’t met the right person,” I pause and think about what to say next. “Boys my own age find me nerdy and I’ve never fancied any of them, to be honest.” 

“I can’t believe you’re actually a virgin.” It’s as if she’s suggested I have an STI.  

“I’m not exactly saving myself for Mr Right,” I groan. “It’s just the way things have worked out.”  

*** 

The wall-to-wall beige carpet is soft beneath my bare feet as I pad towards the queen-sized bed. I pull back the duvet, it’s too warm for that; thankfully, there’ a sheet underneath. The wine I drank has made me sleepy, and I start to drift off almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.  

Something disturbs me not long afterwards; I’m not completely submerged in sleep yet, and I’m suddenly wide-awake. What the hell is it? A strange sound, like someone’s in pain. No. Not pain. Oh. My. God! I’ve watched enough movies to know what that grunting noise is. There’s a rhythm to the sounds coming through the wall behind my head. Gabe and Luke are having sex.  

They can’t realise how thin the partition is between their bedroom and the guest room. Maybe they’ve never had anyone stay here before? Or could be they didn’t do it when there was someone? Eek, what should I do?  

I bury my head under the pillow, but I can still hear them. Should I go and wait it out in the bathroom? It won’t take long, surely, for them to finish? But I don’t get out of my bed… I’m too caught up in what’s happening next door. Just the thought of what they’re doing is sending tingles through my tits down to my pussy. My legs fall open and I slip my fingers inside my pyjama bottoms. I’m soaking wet. 

I’m a virgin as far as having sex with a man goes, but I’m not a prude and I’ve learnt to satisfy my urges without shame. I close my eyes and imagine Gabe pinning Luke to the bed, or is it the other way around? Jesus, I’d give anything to see. Oops, where did that come from?  

My clit buzzes as I stroke it, and my pussy clenches around the finger I slip inside. There’s a groan from the next room, deep and guttural. Is it Gabe? My nipples pucker.  

Loud as anything, I hear Luke’s voice. “Are you enjoying that, loverboy? Is it making you hot there’s a sweet, sexy little girl in the next room?” 

S C 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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a Rafflecopter giveaway

Game On

If I wasn't her student, it would be 

Title: Game On 

Author: S.C. Daiko 

Genre: Contemporary, YA, Sports romance

Cover Designer: RBA Designs 

If I wasn’t her student it would be game on.

RYAN

There was only one thing I wanted in life:

to play professional rugby.

I lived and breathed it

until I met Beth.

She’s beautiful, sweet, and so incredibly sexy . . .

but she’s out of bounds.

Beth wants me, I know she does, and I want her.

If I wasn’t her student it would be game on.

BETH

There was only one thing I wanted in life:

to be a good teacher.

And I was

until I met Ryan.

He held me against his hard body on a hot Ibiza night,

and I lost myself to him.

Six months later, he’s in my Spanish class…

what I feel for him is totally against the rules.

Soon rugby isn’t the only game Ryan is playing.

But when his past catches up with him, and everything starts to go wrong . . .

will it be game over for the two of us?

Warning 1: Game On is about a super-fit young rugby player who has the hots for his sexy Spanish teacher.

Warning 2: Game On might melt your panties. Proceed with caution. Readers aged 18+ only.

Warning 3: Game On is filled with feels, angst, and off-the-chart chemistry. A taboo relationship, a black moment, and then a happy ending. Enjoy!

Only 99c for a limited time. Free to read on Kindle Unlimited.

Amazon 

The music takes me away, the throbbing bass rhythm carrying me into a whirlpool of movement; I sway my hips, arms crossed above my head. I’ve drunk too much but what the hell… I’m having fun. Moving my ass in time to the beat, I head back to the table and take another sip of vodka lemon, trying to act as if this is what I do every Saturday night. The drink burns its way down to my belly, and stokes my excitement.

Megan, my bestie and the bride-to-be, grins at me from where she’s sprawled on the corner sofa of the nightclub. “You okay, my lovely?”

“Having a blast,” I say, giving her a high-five.

We’re here on the party island of Ibiza for her hen weekend… me, my twin sister Sophie (who’s not drinking as she’s trying for a baby) and Meg’s sister, Lowri, who’s had more than Meg and I combined. Lowri shoots me a tipsy look. “You’re such an amazing dancer,” she slurs.

Dance is my exercise of choice, and I love it. I grab her hand and pull her onto the floor, spinning her around while I shimmy to the sound, tossing my hair back from my face. “Oh God,” Lowri squeals, and her face turns green, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Oops,” I lead her back to the chair she just vacated. “Put your head between your knees, sweetie, and I’ll fetch you a glass of water.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m back on the dance floor, having left the recovering Lowri with Meg and Soph. I’m lost in my own world, a world of music and movement. All around me, people are caught up in the buzz of the rave, a mosh-pit of gyrating bodies high on hedonism. Dutch house bounces off the walls, the floor vibrates beneath my feet, and lights strobe across the ceiling.

I smell him before I see him, a mix of musky male sweat and woody cologne. He towers over my five foot six frame, broad shoulders, slim waist, and absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. I’m not wearing my glasses, and his denim-blue eyes clash with mine. He smiles, his teeth flashing white in a tanned face. “Hola,” he smirks, and it’s a smirk full of promise. “Cómo te llamas?”

“Beth,” I shout to be heard above the high-volume music.

“English?”

I nod as he steps forward to grasp my hips with strong hands. We sway together and I feel his hardness pushing against my tummy. My head tucks under his chin and I breathe him in. It’s been too long since I felt the pleasure of a man…

No need to ask his name. He’s almost certainly a local and I doubt I’ll meet him again. I’ll just enjoy this for what it is: a brief encounter. I’m so turned on; I can feel my knickers sticking to me under my party dress.

His hot breath tickles my earlobe as he bends his head to nuzzle my neck. And then he’s kissing me, his lips warm and filled with lust, his tongue chasing mine. “Come, princesa,” he breaks away and tugs on my hand. “Let’s find somewhere quieter.”

The sensible voice in my head tells me not to be stupid. That I don’t have one-night stands. Never have. Never thought I would. But the past three years have taken their toll, and I’m fed up with listening to sensible Beth. Just this once. What harm can it do? I’ll make sure we use protection…

The cool night air is a relief from the sweaty heat of the club. We stagger through the fire escape and into an alleyway, where he picks me up as if I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist; he presses me against the brick wall under a street light and kisses me again, harder this time, sucking my lower lip into his mouth before biting down on it and making me yelp with delight. His hands palm my needy tits, and I feel my nipples peak. Sweet Jesus, I’m so wet I could come right now.

“So, princesa,” he breathes, “you staying on the island long?” His voice is deep and melodic, but it doesn’t sound Spanish. It sounds… Welsh. No, that can’t be right. I must be in an alcohol-induced fog.

“Just for the weekend,” I manage to say between panting breaths. I run my hands over his ripped abs. God, he’s hot. I lean my weight into the wall and brace myself.

He pulls at my knickers, his fingers delving, testing. “Gonna fuck you, princesa. Is that what you want?”

“Oh, yes, fuck me, please,” I groan.

He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a foil packet, ripping it open with his teeth.

But a shout echoes down the passageway and a skinny young man comes running up to us. He holds out a cell phone, and gives it to my Ibizan (as I’ll think of him for the next six months). It’s then that I notice the tattoo of a scorpion on his hand... it burns its way into my memory like a branding iron, its tail raised ready to sting. I shiver to myself.

He puts me down and holds the phone to his ear, his blue eyes meeting mine. “I’m sorry, Beth,” he says, pocketing the device, “there’s been some trouble at home.” He pauses. “Really nice meeting you, but I have to go.” He kisses me briefly on the forehead, and I notice the regret in his expression.

“It’s okay,” I say, even though it isn’t. I was burning up for him. “Hope you get the trouble sorted.”

“Me too,” he gives a hollow laugh.

I watch him stride away from me, and sensible Beth’s voice in my head tells me I’ve had a lucky escape. Six months later, I learn she couldn’t have been more wrong.

S C 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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