“He’s a bad boy … and a nanny.”
Holy sweet baby Jesus.
I don’t know anything about taking care of kids.
I pierce nipples, navels, and noses for a living.
I’ve never even held a baby before. Not once. Never changed a diaper or cleaned up a skinned knee. Hell, I don’t even want kids. I’m more of a drifter, a once in a lifetime lover, and then I move on.
Family? Commitment? Nuh uh, no way.
Tough sh*t, though, because my brother and his kids need me. Desperately.
I never thought to wonder if I might need them, too.
That I might need her, this strange woman I met at a playground.
Brooke Overland.
She doesn’t know I’m not a professional nanny, but what am I supposed to do now?
She hired me; I took care of her sister’s kids for her; I f*cked her.
My life is so screwed-up.

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EXCERPT:

Zayden shrugs his sexy shoulders at me.
“So?” He grins at me. “You also met me three days ago.” I purse my lips at him and give the hairless cat a scratch near the base of his tail. His sweater today is red with a black guitar on the back. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Five. And I don’t exactly make a habit of sleeping around. Virgin, remember.”
“Um, not a virgin anymore,” Zay says with a massive grin that I pretend I don’t find at all charming. The thing is, he’s super charming. Crazy charismatic. It scares me a little to be honest. I almost wish he was more of a dick. “Anyway, that guy has ulterior motives. Big time. I can smell it.”
“Like you don’t?” I ask with a laugh as Zay moves around the couch and gets up close and personal with me. I’m not even sure he realizes he does that, gets up in other people’s personal space like that.
“I never tried to pretend I didn’t. See, that’s the difference between that guy and me. I’m telling you exactly what it is that I want.”
“Which is?”
“Well, of course, it’s you, Smarty-Pants.”
I take a step back, but Zay follows me in, pausing for a moment as the baby gurgles and then sighs softly in sleep. My heart is pumping furiously, my body tingling as I feel the warmth rolling off of him. I can still remember the way it draped across me, that heat, that hard hot body. I suck in a breath.
“I thought you said this was a casual, no strings attached sort of a deal?” Zay grins and brushes some hair away from my face with his tattooed hand.
“It is. Look, this is a perfect arrangement, don’t you think? You can experiment with me, get all those virgin mistakes out of the way early on, and then in a week and a half, I’ll be gone. Boom. Back to Vegas, baby. No worries at all, no awkwardness, no crossing paths.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but inside, I’m going completely crazy. I can feel butterflies and tingles and this weird sort of buzzing that I’ve never felt before. I guess I’m having some kind of … sexual awakening or something. I feel hot and squirmy with need. I’m aware it’s all basic human chemistry and hormones and pheromones and all of that … but damn.
“You’re offering to … teach me or something?”
Zay snaps his fingers and leans in close, the piercings on his face winking at me in the weak sunshine.
“Yeah, sure, why not? What do you have to lose?”

Author Bio:

 C.M. Stunich is a self-admitted bibliophile with a love for exotic teas and a whole host of characters who live full time inside the strange, swirling vortex of her thoughts. Some folks might call this crazy, but Caitlin Morgan doesn't mind – especially considering she has to write biographies in the third person. Oh, and half the host of characters in her head are searing hot bad boys with dirty mouths and skillful hands (among other things). If being crazy means hanging out with them everyday, C.M. has decided to have herself committed.
She hates tapioca pudding, loves to binge on cheesy horror movies, and is a slave to many cats. When she's not vacuuming fur off of her couch, C.M. can be found with her nose buried in a book or her eyes glued to a computer screen. She's the author of over thirty novels – romance, new adult, fantasy, and young adult included. Please, come and join her inside her crazy. There's a heck of a lot to do there.
Oh, and Caitlin loves to chat (incessantly), so feel free to e-mail her, send her a Facebook message, or put up smoke signals. She's already looking forward to it.

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