The Billionaire And The Nanny (Book Two)

by Paige North

  Suddenly, I rip into her all the way to the hilt of my cock, balls deep, and she screams out loud. I cover her mouth with my hand, only because I don’t want her waking the baby and fucking up this perfect thing we have, but she adamantly pushes my hand away and moans nice and loud.

  “My God…” she says, her eyes open and staring at the ceiling like I’ve blown open her body. “Mr. Hawthorn…”

  Something about hearing her say “Mister Hawthorn” while I fuck her, so pronounced, drives me even more crazy, and pulling out, I plunge in again harder this time, balls slamming her ass. She moans aloud again, as that buildup of pressure in my body responds. Her hands dig into my back, nearly scratching me, fueling me to pull out and fuck her again—harder. If I do this right, she’ll experience both the best fucking orgasm she’s ever had. In the morning, she’ll realize she got too in over her head. I’m too much for her.

  She’ll stay away, go back to her normal life.

  And I’ll move on, having tasted her and warned her at the same time.

  “I’m not for you,” I mutter against her breasts. “I’m not your sweet boyfriend. I’m a man living with demons, Miss Rainville.” I rise up so I can look at her, as I fuck her. For now, she’s mine—all mine. Pressing my thumb against her clit, I work it the same way I saw her work herself, and she closes her eyes.

  Her face turns to one side, and I know this is it—she’s about to come.

  “Do it, sweetheart. Come all over my cock,” I say, jackhammering into her tight, sweet body, holding onto her ass for the push-in with my other hand, as my thumb continues to fiddle her clit.

  “Yes….” She’s breathless, squeezing her muscles against my thighs, and preparing for the blowing of the mind about to come her way. I’m only a moment behind. In a second, I’ll get to hear what she sounds like when she comes. There’s no greater sound in all this world—to hear this innocent woman letting go, giving her utmost love to me—whether I deserve it or not.

  And I definitely don’t.

  Which is all the more reason I nearly break down when she explodes in waves of electric energy radiating all throughout her body. Her nipples stiffen, and a pink flush spreads over her chest, as she cries out and mewls against the comforter. I fuck her right through it—relentlessly—as promised.

  “That’s right. Sassy Miss Rainville, getting fucked by her boss,” I say, attuning my gaze to her breasts again, her pussy spread apart by my cock, and I can’t hold it in any longer.

  I come hard and long.

  For a moment, there’s no condom, there’s just me spilling my seed deep into her, filling her body, filling her soul. I don’t know why I think of it that way—it’s just sex. Sex like any other I’ve had before, except it isn’t. She looks ethereal, angelic in the soft light of her room. Completely different from any other woman I’ve been with. But why?

  When I collapse onto her and curl onto my side, her body melds perfectly into mine. Delicate arms curl around my shoulders, and our breaths combine into one, hearts slowing down. Holy shit.

  “Thank you,” she says into my shoulder with a long sigh.

  Something about the way she says it…have I relieved a long dry spell? Or… The dreamy state I was in just now clears away, giving rise to a red flag. I hold my breath. Wait… “What do you mean?”

  “I mean thank you,” she says. “That was my first time ever.”

  Bailey

  On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

  Zayden Hawthorn, the man I let take my virginity, the man I chose to take my virginity today—gets out of bed, running a hand through his hair and looking as though he’s choking to death right in front of me.

  Finally, he speaks. “Please tell me you were joking.”

  I shake my head, not daring to say anything.

  “You’re a virgin?”

  “I was a virgin. Until now. Until you.”

  With the way sex just ended, the way we were cuddling in bed, he seemed different. He seemed changed from his earlier self. Softer, more approachable and human. I thought he’d be open to the compliment of knowing I’d chosen him. Big mistake. HUGE. “You say that like it’s no big deal!” he shouts.

  “Shh, the baby,” I plead.

  “The baby,” he grits. “The baby is exactly the reason I shouldn’t have done this. The whole reason I’m in this predicament in the first pace is because a woman lied to me. Someone obviously wasn’t on the pill like she said she was, which is why there’s a brand new human sleeping in the room next door.” He paces the room. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” he mutters. “Why can’t I stop?”

  Stop? It’s a habit of his, isn’t it? Sleeping with any woman he can get away with. Which means, all those nice gazelles I met earlier yesterday have all been in his pants. I guess I can’t blame them, but it makes me feel sick.

  “But you used a condom, so I’m not going to get pregnant. Please, Zayden—uh, Mr. Hawthorn…” Ugh, I have no clue what name to use. Is he my boss right now, or my lover?

  “The fact is that you lied.” He throws his hands out, palms up, as he begins fishing around for his clothes.

  “I did not,” I nearly shout back. My nerves are already rattled from telling him the truth, from the sex we just had, from the anticipation of waiting for him all day long. Quieter, I say it again. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t think it mattered.”

  “You don’t think your first time matters? You don’t think that perhaps you might have at least mentioned you were a virgin before we fucked?” he asks. In a weird way, I’m relieved that he cared enough about my first time to be this upset. He stops pacing and starts putting on his pants, a relief because it was weird to see a naked man yelling at me. “It shouldn’t have been with me. That should’ve been with someone you know, someone who was going to make it special for you.”

  “It was special for me.” It’s the truth. It only hurt a little bit at the beginning but only because I’ve never put anything that big inside me before. I mean, shit, I’ve been using tampons since the age of twelve and way smaller dildos since eighteen. I probably won’t tell him that, though. Enough is enough. That’s what I get for sharing.

  “You should have said something,” he insists, zipping up his pants and swiping his shirt angrily off the floor. “I told you no more lies, and that’s twice now, Rainville.”

  I can see he’s sensitive about lies, though omitting the truth is technically not the same as lying. Fine, maybe I should’ve told him in advance. But I knew he wouldn’t have gone through with it had I told him. I just really, truly just wanted my first time to be over and done with. I’m twenty-two and never had sex, never even had a boyfriend. So after what he said last night about waiting for him with a towel on, it sparked my imagination…and lust…all day long.

  That’s what I get for storing pent-up frustration. I choose the first man who came along—though a fine specimen of a man he is, that’s for sure.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for the towel. Suddenly, I feel so exposed. “I should’ve told you.”

  “You bet your ass you should have.” Hands on his hips, he looks around and regains his cold composure from yesterday. “You have to go. First thing in the morning.” He turns on his heels and leaves the room, and I’ve never felt more discarded in my entire life.

  I can’t believe this. I just got fired from my first nanny job. I don’t know what I’m more stunned about—that I failed so miserably so quickly or that I loved every minute of it until the abrupt ending.

  Crawling back into bed, I think about who I can call or text and cry to about all this, but it occurs to me that I can’t mention it to anyone, not even Kaylee, my best friend at Duke. Joanne, my roommate in Queens? My mom?

  I slept with my boss on the first day. I let him do things to me that no other nanny would have put up with. Then again, how many nannies have a superhot, ultra-masculine real live calendar model for their boss? I feel so stupid for having told him I was a virg
in. It could’ve been our one-and-only time, and we would’ve moved on. I would still have a job.

  But hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I’m the biggest idiot ever.

  Next morning, I’m packed and ready to go.

  Vero is in the nursery with baby Olivia, giving me sympathetic looks as she bounces the baby on her knee so harshly.

  I want to take over and show her how it’s done.

  This is really the saddest part of all this—that Olivia will be changing hands yet again. I’m so sorry, baby. I come up to her and take her little hand. “Goodbye, little one. I’m sorry I can’t stay. I’m sorry I let you down.”

  I hold back tears. I don’t know why I’m about to cry. I only knew her for a day.

  “Miss Rainville?” Vero says, and I look up at her doe-like eyes. “Everything will be alright. I promise.”

  “Thanks.” I fully feel her sympathy and kindness, guilty for thinking that a beautiful woman such as her would be unable to empathize for someone like me.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Zayden awaits leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, like the GQ model that he is. Stoic. Hard. Unflinching. I can’t believe I slept with him. I can’t believe the things we did. I can’t believe I’m leaving the house with my tail between my legs, which does not feel anywhere near as good as his cock did.

  Shit, Bailey. STOP.

  “I was rash last night. Angry and impulsive,” he says, flicking something away with his nails. He looks at me, and I can see that something has shifted. It’s a new day. “You don’t have to leave.”

  I don’t know what to say. In forty-eight hours, I’ve been rung though the emotional ringer more times than I can handle. My body vibrates with anxiety. “I needed this job,” I say, keeping my eyes down. “I shouldn’t have given in—”

  “I shouldn’t have tempted you,” he cuts me off. He’s willing to take partial responsibility. I can respect that. “However, what’s done is done. We can’t be physically intimate again. Consider today your first day of official employment.”

  So that means the sex was off the record. That’s what he’s implying. Oh, my God, I could die of relief.

  I nod.

  That should be it—we should go our separate ways. However, I’m torn by his “apology.” See, the thing is…he doesn’t actually apologize. He merely acts as though this was all some oversight on his part, like the entire thing was mechanical and accidental.

  “Go ahead.” His fingers whirl, indicating it’s time to spin around and head back up the stairs. All I can do is stand there, hurt and confused. It would’ve made better sense for me to leave, but now I have to see him again, every day, acting like none of this ever happened. I have to pretend that he didn’t take my virginity, slide into my body, or lay his head against my chest like a lonely child aching for his mother.

  What was that all about? Do all men do that?

  I have to pretend that last night never happened.

  Swallowing my pride, I whisper, “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  For the next several days, I concentrate solely on Olivia, how much better she’s getting, how much more she’s smiling and how much happier she seems the more time she spends with me. At least someone wants to spend time with me, unlike Zayden who keeps his distance for three days straight. When the house alarm beeps each night, alerting me that he’s home, like a ghost, he slips into his room without so much as a hello.

  Even though I catch fleeting glimpses of his stare down the hall whenever I’m talking to the baby, he quickly turns and minds his own business. Maybe I’m imagining things, but he seems envious that I get to spend time with her, as if he wants to actually be a daddy to his baby. But hey, he could change that about himself any time. He would really love his own daughter if he would only get to know her.

  It’s like living with a roommate who only comes late at night to sleep then leaves again in the morning. The staff doesn’t talk to me. Maybe they’re under direct orders not to interact with me anymore. Clearly, Zayden, Vero, the chef and assistant live in one world, and Olivia and I live in another. Upstairs and annexed in isolation.

  “It’s you and me against the world,” I tell the baby during her night time bottle on the sixth day.

  She smiles and gurgles.

  “Yeah. That’s just fine with me, too,” I whisper.

  Zayden

  Longest week of my life.

  Just knowing that Bailey lives with me, so close, yet so far, that I can walk into her bedroom any given night for a repeat performance drives me insane. I’ve bitten my nails down to the quick, and I don’t even bite my nails. Vero and the others get to go home at night. They get to escape me. Not that I was ever really interested in them.

  I surround myself with beautiful women because I’ve always loved beautiful things. I never took any of them seriously.

  But something about Bailey…I can’t stay away.

  Especially since she told me I was her first. I can’t believe she’s never been with a man before. Why me? What the fuck made her decide—hmm, my billionaire boss—yeah, that’s it. He’s the one I want popping my cherry? Either she saw Baby Daddy written on my forehead once she found out Olivia is my love child, or she just wanted it over with. I remember feeling the same when I was sixteen, long after my mom left, and Dad took up alcoholism as his favorite hobby, and my mother’s divorced neighbor, Cynthia, did me the favor of making me a man.

  I haven’t talked to Bailey about it, though I’m dying to know why she was okay with losing her virginity to me so quickly.

  Though I know I can’t talk to her—not about that or anything else.

  The less we talk, the better. I won’t be able to control myself around her.

  Halfway through her second week, I catch onto the fact that she needs to get out. I don’t mean another stroll through Central Park or a walk to Duane Reed just to clear her head, I’m talking she needs time away. I’ve caught onto the way she puts things down quite hard when she’s stressed or angry, and according to Vero, she only does it when I come home.

  Considering I’m the one who wants to give her more adult time—rated XXX adult time—considering I’ve been hovering around her end of the house thinking of reasons to talk to her, I think it’s best if I give her time to herself for a while. I’m not a total dick.

  When I knock on her door late at night, it takes everything in my willpower not to charge right in and pull her into my arms. In fact, I don’t even look at her. “Miss Rainville,” I say through the cracked doorway.

  “Yes?” I see her shuffling in bed with her laptop. Must not have expected me to ever come back to her room.

  “I haven’t given you any time off. Tomorrow night is Friday. Why don’t you take some time for yourself? I’ll take care of Olivia.” Realizing I sound stupid, since I’ve never, not once, taken care of Olivia, I add, “I mean she can stay with someone else for a while. Vero or whoever.”

  “Oh, wow,” she says breathlessly, “I really needed a break. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” I close the door quickly before I can see what she’s wearing or not wearing. One look at her in a flimsy T-shirt baring any part of her body, and I won’t be able to resist. I make it all the way back to my room, bolt the lock, and take out my cock, closing my eyes.

  The next evening, I arrive at home right as she’s getting ready to go out. Olivia is downstairs with Helga, which means I see the baby against my will, but I remind myself it’s for a good cause.

  Miss Rainville doesn’t know it, but I can see her leaving down the hallway and staircase through one of my many security cameras, the one I only keep in common areas. From my office, I watch her go. She wears a short black dress and heels, her hair is long and wavy, and she carries a clutch purse. In the foyer, she throws on her orange pea coat and heads out.

  Wait.

  My spidey senses start tingling.

  Where is she going dressed like that?

  Could it be that my innocent, virginal na
nny has a boyfriend she’s going to finally see tonight? Did she have sex with me while in a relationship with someone else? Or is she just looking hot as fuck on a Friday night?

  My fingers rap the desk madly, and my knees bounce in measured beats. I can’t take this. I have to know where she’s going. I grab my hooded sweatshirt and run out of the house, pretending like I’m just going for a walk. But I follow her. I follow Bailey Rainville, even though I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t care where she goes. It’s not my business. Then again, it is—she’s my child’s nanny. I have to make sure she’s not getting into any weird shit—drugs, crime, maybe an underground poker game.

  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Yes, I know I’m acting crazier than I’ve ever acted about a woman before, but then again, I’ve been under more stress lately.

  She takes the 6 train downtown and gets off at Herald Square. I stay a good twenty or thirty feet behind, and she never knows it. When she finally slips into a cheap bar I’d never frequent to save my life, I pay the admission and wait in the corner, ordering piss beer before settling into the shadows to watch her. Within minutes, I realize she’s just meeting up with three girlfriends in the back. All of them about her age and pretty, but none with the ethereal quality of Bailey’s doll face.

  I feel utter relief and stupidity for having followed her. What I’ll do is finish the beer then go home.

  The girls laugh, have drinks, and garner a lot of attention from dudes everywhere. How can they not? They’re gorgeous, but Bailey especially. Unknowingly, blonde, brown-eyed Bailey has minimum six interested men all in various states of self-confidence contemplating their opening move. One begins his approach.

  I order another beer.

  “Don’t do it…” I mutter, watching the guy near her, moving in with staggered steps. “Don’t do it. Ah, fuck, you did it.”

  Buzzed Boy approaches Bailey, but it’s clear that she’s not interested. Good. Buzzed Boy ends up talking with another one of her friends. A woman starts talking to me. I use her as a shield but keep my eye on Bailey. Yes, I know I’m stalking her, but I have to know what she’s like. Does she flirt, play hard to get, what? Two more guys come up, and one tries to hit her up, but she’s not having it. I like this trend I’m seeing. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep tonight after all.