by Ash Harlow
It strikes me as odd that I keep my legs pressed together so that I don’t touch Luther. After all that we’ve done—six orgasms for a start—the touch of our knees is hardly likely to cause awkwardness or a scandal.
Lawyer’s knee touches Nanny.
Nope. That’ll never make the front page of the Waitapu Sun.
Luther brings up the page of the first applicant. “This is Joy Krebs and she—”
“Looks severe,” I cut in.
“Agree. No joy there. Next is Simon Saunders. Bloody hell. I thought I said no Mannies.”
I laugh. “I thought you were an equal-opportunity employer.”
“Not when it comes to Rachel.”
“Here. What about Juanita?”
We read through her details.
“Devout Catholic,” I point out.
“Fish on Fridays. Confession on Saturdays. Strict observation of holy days of obligation. Lent. Suffering. Devotion to saints. No thanks. I had enough of that growing up. Next.”
“Tatiana. Wow,” I say because I can’t really say what I’m thinking. Luther, however, isn’t so restrained.
“Christ, she looks as though she’s auditioning for a porno.”
“Sounds right up your alley,” I tease.
Luther sends me a look as he tops up my wine. “You have a rather skewed idea of what I prefer to find in my alley.”
“Enlighten me, then.”
He watches me for a couple of beats, with a steady expression, then turns back to the computer. “Alicia Martin. Twenty-eight. Chiltern graduate, worked for some posh people, looks normal.” He pushes the keyboard away and leans back in his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I give up.” His legs fall open that inch further and we touch.
“What’s wrong with Alicia? She looked okay.”
“She’s worked for rock stars. Reuben and Stellar will poach her for their ever-expanding brood and I’ll be back to square one.”
“What about this one, Clarissa?” I grab the mouse and click on a profile in an attempt to be useful because his leg against mine feels heavy, and divine.
“She looks like a horse.”
“Will you stop judging these books by their covers. You’re not going to learn anything about them until you interview them.”
“I can tell she whinnies when she laughs. It would drive me around the bend.”
“To find the ideal nanny, you have to know what you want.” I don’t get any response to that. “Do you know what you want, Luther?”
He gives me that measured look again. Our eyes meet briefly before his take a casual tour down my body and up again.
“Yeah, I do. I know exactly what I want.”
His foot rubs against mine sending a maddening tingle up my legs.
“Tell me what that is.” My voice has to fight its way out of the tightness in my throat.
“I want what I can’t have, Ginger.”
“Which is?” I can’t hold eye contact any longer and I switch my focus to one of the many tattoo designs adorning his hands and fingers. I wonder what the Law Society thinks of him, inked up like a biker. Fiery, swearing Luther is a lot easier to deal with than this calmer one who has things he wants but denies himself.
“You, Ginger. I want you in my bed. Not two rooms away where I know you’re probably in as much need of mind-blowing orgasms as I am.”
Damn it. I want the same thing. It’s not like either of us is in a relationship. It’s not as though having sex with Luther is going to hurt anyone. I wish I knew what was holding him back. I doubt being the nanny is his problem because this denial started before Rachel was in the picture. “I want that, too,” I tell him.
“There are reasons why this can’t go anywhere.”
My stomach sinks. It’s a conditioned response to what I know is coming.
“Because I’m a Hough?” Hough, Hough, not good enough. I’d grown up thinking that. I lived in a shitty house, on the side of town where nobody painted their fences, or pruned their citrus so that a sparrow could fly through, or cleared the car wrecks from their yards.
When my sister, Vanessa, left to go to university in Auckland, my father left with her. Not to take care of her. He’s not even her father—that guy left years earlier. Dad left with Vanessa to get the hell away from my mother who eventually drives everyone out of her life. Neither of their names are spoken with a smile and, as I’ve grown older, I’ve often wondered about my father and Vanessa. They were close in age, closer than he was to my mother. I can hardly remember Vanessa. I was six when she left. She was eighteen. We hadn’t been close, but she was still my sister.
“Because you’re a Hough? What is that supposed to mean?”
“You know what that means. You’re an Angstrom, and I’m a Hough, and never the twain shall meet. You’re one of the top lawyers in the country and I’m, what? A sort-of nanny. A sort-of office assistant. A bit of an early childhood worker at the school.”
“That’s not who you are. Come here.”
I let him pull me onto his lap. It’s warm there and I want to sneak my fingers between the buttons of his shirt and feel his heartbeat. He tucks his chin over the top of my head and when he swallows, I feel the movement of his throat against my cheek. I want my bare skin against his so that I can feel the pulse of his body, every twitch of muscle, every exhalation.
“For a start, you’re beautiful. You must know that. You look in the mirror and see what I see. You’re clever, and funny. Do you know how rare it is for anyone to make me laugh? Yet, you make me laugh all the time. Stupid people aren’t funny. They don’t have the wit. You’re great with Rachel. You’re taking amazing care of her and me, and I’m sure that’s what’s made this transition for Rachel so smooth. I don’t want another nanny, I want you.”
“But?” There’s always a counter-argument.
“But,” he continues, “you don’t want to be a nanny. And, fair enough. I’m not going to try and force you into a job you don’t want to do. Darcy speaks so highly of your work with her, and I have to let you go, to do that, because it will be a great career. As for us, well, we won’t come to anything, and I don’t want you to leave here feeling used.”
I’m not going to beg. Whatever reason he has for thinking we can’t be together is probably as misguided as the fairytale I’ve created of us living in bliss. I shouldn’t be sitting in his lap. I must be professional. For Rachel.
I reach across the desk for the mouse and give it a shake to wake up the laptop. “We need to keep searching for a nanny.”
“I haven’t finished talking.”
“I get the picture, Luther. I still have my dignity which is a bonus because that’s inclined to fly out the window when I’m around you.” I click on another picture. Trina is from Lapland, which I find mildly amusing. She has freckles dotted over her nose, bangs, and two braids. She looks more like Heidi from the Alps.
“I still want to fuck you,” he says in that low voice he uses when he’s talking about sex.
“Right. This is Trina, from Lapland. She looks, I dunno, wholesome. I think a wholesome nanny is ideal. She’s fluent in four languages—”
“I don’t want to fuck Trina from Lapland.”
“Well, that’s a plus for her. I think we should request an interview. Work out the time difference. No, wait, she’s in London so that’s twelve hours. We can set it up for tomorrow evening after Rachel’s in bed.”
He pulls me back to him and slaps the laptop closed. “I don’t want to set up an interview. I want to take you to my bed and fuck you into next week.”
“I still have that annoying virginity you’re not interested in.”
“I was trying to be a good guy.”
I slap his chest and he grabs my wrist in a way that jump-starts my body for something more. “Telling me you want to fuck me, and eat my pussy, and put your cock in my mouth is not good-guy talk. You send mixed messages, Luther.”
He bends my hand back, exposing my wrist, an
d takes his mouth to the pulse that beats there. He sucks, licking that sensitive spot as my body heats.
Finally he releases me. “Did you get that message?”
I nod. The crush I have on Luther could quarry granite it’s that strong. My lips part but before I can speak, his mouth is on mine, his hands on my face and I fall for him in one sweep of his tongue. The kiss is long, with varying degrees of tongue-fucking and sweetness. His hands slide down my back, turning me in the chair so that I straddle him. Still we kiss. His hips shift and I feel the hard length of his cock against my pussy. I rock against him and catch the vibration of his groan through my mouth.
Luther breaks away. “Not here,” he says, stroking my face. “Not the first time. Even though I’ve imagined fucking you over this desk, I want you in my bed.”
23 ~ LUTHER
I’m creating a problem of massive proportions and I couldn’t care less. I solve problems, I fix people’s fuck-ups, I’ll deal with this when I have to, but right now, I have Ginger lying naked on my bed, and I’m not backing away. Not when this feels so right.
“Play with yourself while I undress. Show me what you do when you’re lying in that bed down the hall and thinking about my cock.”
She sucks her finger, opens her legs and slips it between her folds.
I pause, mid-strip, and watch her. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. “Are you wet?”
“I’m always wet around you, Luther,” she teases.
“You know from now on when I look at you, I’ll be thinking about your wet pussy.”
“And I’ll be thinking of your cock. Take off your clothes. I want to see you properly.”
I step out of my pants and stand at the foot of the bed. “I’ve got something for that bossy mouth of yours,” I say, stroking my cock. Ginger looks at me and licks her lips. “Have you sucked a cock, or is that mouth a virgin, too?”
“I haven’t sucked yours, and that’s all that matters. Can I taste you?”
“Not right now. I’ll come in two seconds if I get anywhere near your mouth. Open your legs wider, I want to watch.”
She draws her knees up and her pussy is plump and glistening. My cock’s leaking precum. I’ve thought about this for so long, I’m ready to explode.
I crawl up the bed. “Keep playing with yourself while I lick you. I want you to come first, before I fuck you.” I take her legs over my shoulders, and Ginger moans as I lick, around her fingers, back and forth along the folds of her pussy. Her hips are circling, and I slip a finger inside her, then nudge her other finger off her clit with my tongue. I’m greedy, ready to fuck, and I want her to come quickly. I ease a second finger into her pussy and start fucking her with them. The palm of my hand is wet with her juices, and I curl my fingers, find the right place to rub, and suck her clit hard. Her hips lift and she stiffens for a moment before she grinds against me. Her pussy spasms as she cries out my name. That was so quick it had to break the speed record.
I love how fast she comes and normally I’d draw it out, keep teasing her, but tonight I want to get inside her while she’s still loaded with endorphins.
“Fuck,” she says, as I crawl up the bed.
“You’re taking my best lines.” I pull open the drawer and grab a condom, and her hand reaches for me, fingers wrapping tentatively around my dick.
I cover her hand with mine, take it to the base and squeeze tight. “Fuck, Ginger, you’re going to make me come.” Which is madness in itself because I’m a master at control. I take her hand away and roll on the condom.
“Tell me if you’re having doubts. I’m not pushing you into this, so if you want to stop…” I was about to say that’s fine. It won’t be, but I’ll get over it. I’m running back through everything this evening, trying to make sure I haven’t promised her anything or coerced her in any way. All rationality flies out the window when I’m near her, and for all I know, I could have bequeathed her the house, a private jet, and granted her eternal salvation.
“Are you chickening out again?”
“I’m being a gentleman.” This is agony. My cock’s wedged between the hottest, wettest pussy lips in the world and I swear it’s trying to shut me out of negotiations and deal direct with Ginger’s gorgeous little cunt.
“Luther, I want this.” She’s looking directly into my eyes, and there’s no hint of coercion there, just a mirror of my own lust. “But, please, just go easy on me. Girlfriends advise to choose a tiny dick first time. I don’t believe you fit that category.”
“Glad to hear it. I’ll go easy, I promise.” It’s time to take my mind off my pulsing dick, my aching balls, and think only of Ginger.
I lie across her and she wraps her legs around my ass. The head of my dick is right at her entrance. Fuck, no other dick’s been there before. The thought gives me a ridiculous rush of pleasure. Ginger’s is mine. Even if it’s just for one night, she’s mine.
My forearms rest above her shoulders and I cradle her head. “Eyes on me, now. You’re in control, so tell me if it’s too much.”
She’s smiling. “Come on, Luther, fuck me.”
“Careful what you wish for.” I kiss her. I need her mouth to counter the urge to plunge into her. She angles her hips and the head of my cock suddenly slips in. The heat and the tightness are amazing. Our kiss breaks, and when our gazes lock, every facet of her eyes is enhanced.
“You’re in. It feels amazing. And huge.”
“Good. We’ve got all night, let’s take our time.” I ease out a little and push in further, watching her face, looking for clues of discomfort. There are none. All I see is pleasure.
“I like this, a lot,” she says.
Finally, I’m all the way in. Our bodies are slick with perspiration, not from exertion, but from staying in control. “You feel fucking incredible, Ginger.”
“So do you. I can’t believe this. Why have I waited so long?”
“For me, of course,” I tease.
Her response is a tightening over my dick that just about makes my eyes water. “Can we fuck now?” she asks.
“Since you asked so nicely, of course.” I ease out and slide back in, watching her the whole time. She’s got this little smile going on, and every time I reach the end of her she takes this deep breath and sighs. I go faster, and harder with each thrust. The heat and tightness are extraordinary and my denial has been going on for so long, I know I’m not going to last very long. I slip a hand between us and find her clit.
The first touch and Ginger moans.
“You like that?”
“Yeah, yeah, I like that.”
“Good. This next orgasm is ours. When you come, I’ll come, got it?”
“Got it. I’m close, Luther,” she says between little moans and whimpers.
Her clit’s slick and swollen. She’s meeting every thrust as though she’s trying to take me deeper.
“This cock not big enough for you?”
“It’s perfect,” she says.
“Good. Because this pussy is mine.”
Her entire body trembles, and I’m so tempted to edge her, to hold off that orgasm and keep fucking all night, but when her legs tighten around me, and her pussy squeezes over my cock, I know she’s going to come.
“Come on, Ginger, let go. Come for me.” I pinch her clit and she calls my name. Our mouths crash together and I pull out of her and thrust hard into her spasming pussy, finally letting go. “Mine, mine, mine.” I say the words through her lips, over her tongue, through my cock and into her cunt.
It’s over. Her legs lose their tight grip and she relaxes beneath me. Her cheeks are wet and I kiss away the tears.
“Sorry,” she says. “That was a bit overwhelming.”
“All part of the service,” I tease. “Are you okay? Sore?”
“I feel amazing. No bones, they’ve gone. I don’t know if I’ll ever move again, but it was worth it.”
I go to the bathroom, ditch the condom and warm a washcloth. Back in the bedroom I cl
imb under the covers and hold the washcloth against her pussy.
“That feels nice,” she murmurs.
I pull her against me and our legs and arms wind around each other like two vines whose tendrils have finally found the support they’d been searching for. I don’t know what she’s done to me but I have this unsettling thought that I’ll crush any other man who tries to get near her. Problem is, I don’t think even I can micromanage this situation.
Her breathing’s soft and regular. I think she’s fallen asleep. I don’t know if I can ever sleep again. Fuck me, I’m a careless idiot. But, it was worth it. Every second inside her body was heaven.
Along the hallway, a little girl sleeps. A little girl who I made a promise to in a hospital five years ago. Someone whose own needs should have eclipsed any selfish thoughts I was having about fucking the nanny. Except…
Except, the nanny needs me, too. And I’m starting to think that I need her.
24 ~ GINGER
I wake around four. I’m snuggled into Luther and even though moving is the last thing I want to do, I ease myself from beneath the weight of his arm. He catches my hand as I roll away from him.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my bed.”
“Stay here.”
“I can’t. Rachel wakes early and comes into my room every morning.”
“Shit.”
He still hasn’t let go of my hand. “Luther, let me go.”
“I wanted to wake up and bury my dick in you again.”
“As tempting as that sounds, we can’t.”
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“No. I’m better than that.”
“That’s the truth.”
“I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Kiss me.”
“No,” I say. “I know where kissing leads.” I manage to free my hand and roll from the bed.
“You’re a hard woman, Virginia Hough.”
“And you’re a hard man.”
“I’m glad you noticed, but this hard man is sad you’re leaving.”
“That’s your dick brain talking. Good night.” I’ve found my clothes, and I tiptoe like a thief back to my room. My bed is cold. I miss Luther’s warmth and the way he holds me.
