The Billionaire And The Nanny (Book Four)

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The Billionaire And The Nanny (Book Four) Page 5

by Paige North


  “Well…”

  I stand and come around the desk, stopping a couple feet short of her. Even from this distance, I can smell her skin and hair, freshly shampooed and blow-dried. Whether she showered after Liam went to bed for herself or for me, I don’t know, but I do know a woman will always get clean if she wants to get dirty.

  And dirty is the only thing I can focus on right now.

  “What is it about you, Miss Frasier?” I take a step forward and slide a finger through her hair. There’s a slip out of place and I can’t help but pull it down, frame it around her face, then graze her chin. “Why can’t I get you out of my mind?”

  “I’m…not sure, Mr. Hardwin.”

  Both my hands scoop around her face. Her eyes close, her lips part, and I can feel her trembling the closer I get. Alarms sound in my head—abort, abort!—but I can’t stop. I can’t stop because we’re two human magnets who can’t stop themselves from connecting, nor do we want to. I’m hard as fuck and growing harder with every moment. There’s electricity in the shrinking between us.

  “I came here to tell you something, but now I forgot what that was.” She breathes, nostrils flare as they fight for breath.

  “You’ll think of it later, I’m sure.” Running my thumb across her lip, I watch her mouth open as her tongue darts out and both lips wrap around my finger. My cock swells even more. I have to feel this mouth around me in much the same way.

  “I wanted to do for you what you did for me last night,” she says quietly.

  “Twice.”

  She nods, as heat flushes through her face and neck. “But I’m scared. I’ve never done it.”

  Whoa. She’s never done… “Done what, exactly?”

  “Used my mouth.”

  “To suck a cock, you mean? Like this one?” I take her hand and press it against my pants so she can feel what she’s up against. I’ve never met a woman who’s never sucked dick before and I think my brain cells just died by three hundred percent.

  Nodding, she inches up against me, so we’re pressed together. I feel her tits spreading and her heartbeat pounding. I have to have her. Fuck everything I said before. It was all bullshit. The bullshit ravings of a madman. I’d be stupid to give this up. Tilting her chin up, I run my index finger along inside her mouth to get her to open up and then I plunge my mouth and tongue into her open, needy mouth.

  I taste the sweetness of her tongue, suck in the softness of her lips, and guide her hand to my belt. With trembling fingers, she begins to unbuckle me, and once she’s pulled down my shorts and freed the fucker, she pulls back awkwardly to look at it.

  I almost want to laugh. “Don’t worry, it won’t bite unless you want it to.”

  Her eyes say it all. She wants to do something with it, but she doesn’t know what and her inexperience is as charming as it is heady, making me drunk with pure lust for Alana. “What do I do?” she asks.

  “Come here.” I take her hand and move to the desk then point to the leather chair. “Sit there and take it in both hands.” After she does and is looking up at me with those virginal, sexy eyes, I tell her, “Kiss it. Pretend it’s the best lollipop you’ve ever seen in your life.”

  When she wraps her two, tiny hands around my bulging shaft, I have to bite my lip to keep from losing it. What is it about seeing a woman holding your cock, looking so small compared to you, so vulnerable but still so full of lust for your body? “Like this?”

  “Just like that,” I say. My balls feel tight underneath me. “Take it into your mouth, Alana. Suck on it. Softly. Then pull it out of your mouth as you suck on it at the same time.”

  She follows my instructions, and I make sure to help by holding her chin and pushing my veined, impatient dick into her mouth. As she sucks on it, I feel the tightness and the wetness of her mouth and suddenly want more. I want to see her naked, see her bouncy tits, and feel her slick, wet pussy. I want it all, I want it now.

  Pushing Alana back, I take back my cock and stroke it lightly. “Open your blouse…take off those jeans. The panties, too. I want to see you undressed.”

  “Yes, Mr. Hardwin,” she says. I take in this moment—this gorgeous young woman who works for me unbuttoning her shirt, exposing her gorgeous round tits in a white bra, then pulling her jeans down around her ankles. When she slides off her panties, I already know what I want next.

  Reaching forward, I pull down the cups of her bra to reveal succulent pink nipples, and for a moment, I forget everything else. I force her to sit back and kneel down to take them into my mouth. Flicking those nipples with my tongue, I wrap my mouth around each one and suck.

  Once my cock strains and begins to ache, I lean back against my desk and feed Alana’s hungry mouth. “Open wide.” I slide my dick into her mouth, and she catches on quickly. Good thing she’s smart, because I don’t need to tell her anything else. She begins sucking and stroking and gagging herself and coughing all without my help.

  “Is this good, Mr. Hardwin?” she says.

  She’s gotta be fucking kidding me. She’s a pro is what she is, and suddenly, I can’t think of anything other than coming inside her mouth. But her moans last night were some of the most delicious I’d ever heard, and my mind suddenly decides that it wants to hear them again before coming. “Touch yourself.”

  Big hazel eyes look up at me, questioning.

  “Touch yourself. Make yourself come while you’re sucking on me.”

  Taking my cock and slapping it on her tongue, she shoves the whole thing back into her mouth, and this has to be the goddamn happiest day of my life.

  Yes, while you’re feeding on my man meat. Holy shit. She may not have much experience with an actual, live man, but Alana has definitely spent a lot of time thinking this through. Hence the masturbation before bed. The girl knows what makes her happy.

  “Beautiful,” I say, because there’s no other way to describe the scene before me.

  I watch my cock slide in and out of this gorgeous woman’s plump mouth, ripe tits exposed, wet pussy bare, legs spread open, as she begins to finger fuck herself while slurping on my dick. Could life get any better? Yes. If I had this every day, for example, and after this, I may have to. I never stick with any woman more than a handful of times, but I might have to make an exception.

  “Do you love it?” I ask. I have to hear it. I have to hear that rawness in her voice, the one that tells me she’s finally let go of all pretenses.

  “Yes, Mr. Hardwin.” More slurping and sucking, and I know I’m about to lose it, but her first. I need to hear that sweet moan.

  “Tell me.”

  “I love sucking your cock. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you.” I don’t know if that’s true, but I’ll take it. She cups my balls, cradling them. Good, because they’re going to need it. Her other hand flies across her clit, blurred fingers pushing toward the finish line. The more she dips into that slick wetness, pulling out more juices and using it to work herself into a frenzy, the less I can control myself anymore.

  “Do it, Alana. Fucking come.”

  All of a sudden, her open mouth shoves forward onto my cock, pushing it as far back as it’ll go while one hand fondles her own breast and the other pats her clit over and over. Tears squeeze out of her eyes, as she chokes me back. Then, sliding back in the chair, she throws her head up and lets out the longest, achy, delicious groan I’ve ever heard. With her head tilted back, chin up and mouth open in ecstasy, she trembles with the residual waves of her orgasm.

  Seeing her nipples harden and the wave of prickly pink wash over her light skin, I can’t hold on any longer and move head of my cock near her mouth. “Open, Alana. Show me what you would do for me.”

  Her tongue sticks out, flat and beautiful, and right there, accepting this clear invitation, I empty my balls right into her mouth. Creamy ropes of cum squiggle onto her lips and tongue, and I stroke and stroke again until I’ve given it all to her and there’s nothing left of myself. Fuck! So fucking good. So wrong! And so
weak.

  I’ve never hated such an amazing moment so much. Kase Hardwin has always maintained control. Kase Hardwin has turned himself to stone over the years, so much that he can’t feel anymore, and that’s the way he likes it. Yet, I feel such peace, such communion with this woman that I bend down to kiss the mouth stained with my lust, and savor it as long as I can, because I can’t continue to let this happen. Even if I build a walled gate between her section of the house and mine, even if I have to strap a chastity belt to her body, or fuck—even to mine—I can’t do this again.

  This is asking for trouble. Huge trouble. All it takes is one employee to file a complaint against me, but how can there be any grievances when this is so damn mutual?

  I turn around and zip up, collecting myself as best as I can. Catching my breath, I have to think of what to say. Do that everyday, please? No, that won’t work. Never leave this house, Alana—you’re perfect? No, too desperate. But that’s how Alana makes me feel. Like I need her.

  And that is the most dangerous feeling of all.

  Because I don’t need anyone, least of all a woman.

  “What does this mean now?” The question slips quietly across the room, and I know I’ll find her buttoning up and almost finished getting re-dressed.

  I turn and see her standing, jeans back on, buttoning up the last button. Her hair is mussed, and her lips are raw red from kissing and sucking. She’s both beautiful and annoying as hell. How could I be so stereotypically male and succumb to pure sex that way without an ounce of restraint, especially after a self-given pep talk?

  “This means we fucked up again, Alana,” I tell her. I know it’s not what she wants to hear, but that’s the fact. We did it again, allowing our bodies to control us. This can’t possibly be good for our professional relationship nor that with Liam. I don’t care how amazing that blowjob was. “Time for bed. Thank you for caring for Liam.”

  “Your son,” she says, clearly irritated.

  “What?”

  “Your son. Why don’t you ever say ‘my son?’ You always say Liam.”

  Her gaze is unflinching. Angry. Hurt. Not because of how I address Liam, but because this is all she can do to relay her true feelings. She’ll take the proud route and refuse to admit how much my words hurt her, but she’ll take it out on something else I’m doing.

  “I say Liam because that’s his name.” I give her a cold glare to ensure she doesn’t bring it up again. Nobody knows—nobody except Evie—that Liam isn’t my son, and Evie’s gone. So unless Alana’s been talking to my dead best friend’s ghost or she’s psychic, there’s no way she could know the truth.

  “I just find it odd,” she adds. “No worries, Mr. Hardwin. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “You just did, though.”

  Her lips now a thin line, I can see I’ve struck a nerve. I’ve fucked things up with her, but that’s the way it needs to be. “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t imagining…”

  “Imagining what?”

  “A connection. Between us. But clearly, you have none. Goodnight.” Breezing past me, taking the scent of sex and overindulgence with her, Alana leaves.

  I close my eyes and breathe her in for the last time. Because I can’t let a woman control me like this. I’m my own man, and I don’t need anyone, especially not some fresh-out-of-college girlie making me feel bad for a decision I know is right. Closing the door to my office, I return to my desk, take what’s left of my whisky and Coke and slam the fucking thing back.

  Alana

  You know when someone takes your head, sticks it in a blender, and turns the setting to frappé? I don’t either, but that’s how I feel the next day.

  Try taking care of a baby who hates you while his father decides to stay home again and watch over every little thing you do? Then imagine that you and the baby’s father engaged in dirty monkey sex the night before. Then imagine that the baby’s father goes around all day pretending like it never happened, leaving you to wonder what the heck is going on, and you have my life.

  I have no idea if it’ll ever happen again.

  I have no idea if he even likes me, though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t.

  And yet, there’s this unmistakable gravitational pull between us. I feel it every time we cross paths in the hallway, or when he takes the baby from my arms, brushing his muscular torso near me, or when he emerges from his room in a towel to fetch something from a closet, catches me holding my breath outside the nursery, then returns to his room.

  Every moment feels breathless. Every moment feels like judgment, too. All I want to know is what he’s thinking, but every chance I get to ask him about us, about what’s going on, about whether or not this is a thing, whether the thing will be repeated, or whether said thing was just a fluke, he finds some excuse to change the subject.

  Honestly, I wish he’d just go away. Go back to the ad agency and let me do my thing. I don’t understand why he hired a nanny if he was only going to supervise everything I do. Although I have to admit, I’m a pretty shitty nanny. I wish I could say that I get better with every passing day, but I don’t. Liam has his moments when he’s happy and playful, but something happens whenever Kase is around. Suddenly, Liam gets cranky with me, because he wants his dad.

  Perfectly understandable.

  I want his dad, too.

  I don’t want to want him, but I do. It’s all I can think about—how he told me what to do last night, how he basically instructed me to perform for him, positioned me the way he wanted me. It must be nice to know exactly what you want sexually. Whereas me, I have no idea. When I’m with Kase, I’m thankful for his guidance. Otherwise, I’d stand there open-mouthed, not knowing what to do first. Some things just come with experience, and Kase definitely has it.

  The crazy thing is, I want him to teach me.

  But it’s over. He said it was, and this time, I believe him.

  Because right now, he’s in SuperDad mode. In the kitchen, as I’m preparing Baby Liam’s lunch of baby carrots from a jar, banana compote, and juice, SuperDad comes waltzing in, having clearly been working out in his downstairs gym. He’s wearing a T-shirt that’s dark gray in the sweaty areas and his biceps have that awesome sheen when a guy’s been pumping iron. He must smell musky as fuck, but I don’t care. I have to will away the warmth growing between my legs, tell myself he’s not that same man right now. In fact, right now, he’s on a mission to make my life a veritable hell.

  “What is that?” He points to the open jar on the counter next to Liam’s plate.

  “It’s puréed carrots.”

  “That’s not puréed carrots. That’s garbage, Alana. I thought I told you to make it fresh. Steam the carrots, drain, add water, purée in the processor.”

  I nod and sigh at the same time, as I make a smiley face of the foods on Liam’s plate. “Yes, it’s Slide #13 on your PowerPoint. I know. But that’ll take at least twenty minutes to do, and he was hungry now,” I explain.

  “I understand, but you have to plan ahead. Before he’s hungry, start the process so it’s all ready by lunchtime.”

  Is he freakin’ kidding me right now? “Look, sometimes you just have to crack open a jar of baby food, you know?” Brand new parents, I swear. In a couple of years, he won’t act this way with his second child. If he ever has another one. I doubt it, because who will want to marry this guy? He’s so ultra-anal about everything.

  Kase stares at me like I just flew in from Voyager 1. “That’s exactly the kind of lazy thinking I don’t want around my son.”

  Wow, he actually said son instead of Liam. And wow again, an insult.

  “That stuff has preservatives in it, too,” he adds, sneering at the offensive baby food jar. “When did you even have time to go out and buy it? I stocked the fridge with fresh veggies.”

  “I ordered them from the app you mentioned,” I say. “On Slide #14b, Section 8, Paragraph 6. They got here in ten minutes from the corner store. If you know everything, though, wh
y don’t you be the nanny?” Yikes. That was out of line.

  But he looks at me in a new way, and it’s not really with disdain. Is it surprise? Respect? “Okay. Why don’t you be the employer then? All you have to do is pull in fifty-eight million a year. Think you can handle it?” Picking up his phone, he nonchalantly starts checking stuff, as though my reply isn’t worth eye contact over.

  Whoa, how much? I swallow hard. And I was so excited to be starting at $60K at Lodwick Brothers. This nanny job pays close to that but doing stuff that doesn’t make use of my talents. “I could do it,” I reply. “Eventually.”

  “Great, then let’s switch. I would love nothing more than to hang around a baby all day long.” He gives me a cheeky smile and struts off, all proud of himself.

  Oh. I see. My job is easy. Okay, no problem.

  I want to walk out. Leave this asshole right here to fend for himself—Kase, not Liam—but then I remember that I need that paycheck, the one coming to me in two days. I also like this kid, staring at me with big blue eyes, completely aware of the mini-fight that just happened. Smart Liam.

  I don’t want to lose the apartment that took me so hard to find. I may be living here now, but once the market changes and I get my job in finance back, I’m going to need it. The location is prime. I also don’t want to go back to living with my parents, and honestly, dealing with Kase is hard, but living with my parents is harder. It represents failure, and I can’t. I just can’t.

  I have to take higher ground. “Look, Kase, I’ll prepare a fresh, gourmet meal of steamed baby carrots next time, okay? I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s good to go easy sometimes. He’s a baby, not a science experiment.”

  “He needs the best start in life,” Kase mutters. “He’s already lost enough.” He walks away and pauses at the end of the kitchen, thinking about what just came out of his mouth.

 

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