“Mia,” his warning groan is a pained rasp.
I take his wrist and lift his hand to cup my breast. His eyes lock with mine, and his hesitation is palpable. It’s like there’s an internal war waging inside him, and, for a moment, I wonder which part of him will win—his honor or his desire. His fingertips curl into my breast, and he tests the weight as his thumb brushes over my nipple. My eyelids slide closed as I bask in his touch, his gaze like a caress, and I give him time to reconcile the struggle within.
“You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you standing in my kitchen wearing those damn turtle-print shorts.”
I’ve got them on right now. “Take them off.”
His hands are on my breasts, caressing, kneading, rolling the puckered points between his fingers, sending little darts of pleasure into my core. He seems just as reluctant to let go as I am to lose his talented touch, but then his hands slip to my sides and glides down my ribs to my waist. His fingertips curl into the elastic waistband, and he slides my shorts down my thighs, over my knees, but leaves them at my ankles.
Why isn’t he taking them off? My question is answered when he grasps my ankles and pushes my feet toward me, bending my knees and exposing me in a way I’ve never been before. But Brody is looking at me like he’s starving and I’m his last meal. I’m excited—and a little nervous because I don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done this with someone I feel such a connection with, and, just maybe, I’m underestimating how profoundly this night is going to change me. But there’s no way I’m going to back out now. I want this. I want him.
Brody’s hands move to my knees and slowly run up my thighs. “I haven’t…” His husky voice cracks, and he clears his throat before starting again. “I haven’t been with anyone since Stella.”
His vulnerability does dangerous things to my heart. My pulse quickens with anticipation as his thumbs part my sensitive folds. I fight my modesty to give him what he needs—my surrender. He’s already pushing me outside my comfort zone, and he’s hardly touched me.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers. “Beautiful. Flawless.”
I’m not perfect, far from it, but my flaws are on the inside, scars no one can see but me. I’m an illusion, but if I live this version of myself long enough, hopefully one day the painful memories of my past will finally disappear. I love how Brody sees me. It’s how I wish I saw myself. It’s freeing, and the fresh start I’ve been hoping for. My chest tightens with unexpected emotion, and I’m suddenly as desperate to forget the pain of my past as Brody is his.
“Touch me,” I beg, squeezing my eyes shut, afraid of what he’ll see if he drags his gaze away from my pussy long enough to really look at me. “Please, Brody.”
I gasp at the shock of pleasure that lights through me when his tongue dips inside me. The intimate invasion takes my breath away, and it leaves my lungs on a startled cry. “Yeeesss!”
His chuckle is deep and throaty, and I feel it all the way to my core. His hands slip beneath my bottom as he lifts my hips and feasts on my sensitive flesh. His kiss is divine, his mouth as talented as I knew it would be. I reach between my legs and fist my hands in his hair. It’s just long enough I can get a tight grip, holding him against me as pleasure turns me mindless and wanton. Pressure builds inside me; echoes of something incredible threaten to shatter my core. I give myself over to him and the pleasure he’s offering me.
It’s amazing and beautiful and overwhelming.
I don’t want it to end. Not yet. Brody kisses the bead of my sex, tongue teasing, the rhythmic sucking taking me higher. “Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please, don’t stop.”
“Fuck, Mia, you’re going to make me come.”
His raspy confession is all it takes to send me flying over the edge. The moment his mouth is back on me and his tongue dips in for another hungry taste, I’m gone. My body shudders with the force of my release. Waves of euphoria crash over me, carrying me higher and higher.
I’m still catching my breath when Brody’s weight shifts over me and his mouth claims mine in a carnal, erotic kiss. My hands slip between us, mapping the sculpted muscles of his chest, his abs. Brody’s body is incredible.
I kick my legs free from my shorts as I tug down Brody’s. I take him in hand, wrap my fingers around his impressive length, and a flicker of apprehension steals over me. He’s big.
I don’t think Brody senses my hesitation. He’s too far gone, rocking his hips and groaning in pure male pleasure. It’s an erotic sound that makes my empty sex clench with need as precum slicks his shaft.
“I need to come. I won’t last inside you,” he groans against my mouth before claiming it in a scorching kiss.
He’s begging me for the release that moments ago I was pleading for. “Do it,” I whisper urgently against his mouth. My grip on his length tightens, and he bucks in my hand as I stroke him root to tip. I’ve never brought a man to climax like this before. It feels foreign and a little naughty and a whole lot exciting. He’s kissing me hard while fucking my fist. I’m countering his thrusts and letting him set the pace. He knows what he needs, what he wants, and that I’m helping him get there is making me so hot.
“Brody,” I moan as he kisses my neck, nipping and sucking the sensitive spot just below my ear. The ache in my core is coming back hard and fast.
“Mia.”
He sounds like he’s in agony as he buries his face in the side of my neck, his breaths harsh, ragged pants. Shifting his weight, he slips his hand between us and deftly parts my slick folds, pushing a finger deep inside me. His touch is bliss. After a few in and out thrusts, he enters me with a second finger. The stretch is mostly pleasure, but there is a pinch of pain.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” he groans.
His pace grows faster, more determined. His fingers are deep inside me and moving with purpose, like he’s searching for something.
A shockwave of pleasure slams into me, and my muscles lock down on his fingers. This is what he’s been holding out for, because the moment I start to come, he pulses in my hand. Heat lashes across my breasts and over my stomach. The sound he makes as he comes is so primal and animalistic, it calls to every feminine instinct inside me, heightening the intensity of my release.
His mouth finds mine in a breathless kiss. He’s branded my flesh and now my soul. But as quickly as his cum cools against my skin, the doubts quickly begin to enter my mind. I’m terrified Brody is going to break my heart, because he’s made it clear this doesn’t mean the same thing to him that it does to me. With one final kiss, he gets up and heads into the bathroom.
A moment later, Brody returns carrying a washcloth and sits next to me. As he drags the warm rag over my breasts, I wait for him to say something, giving him time to collect his thoughts. I want him to see the way he’s marked me, and I hope it shifts something in the primal part of his mind. His body wants to claim me even though his heart isn’t ready to. Whether he realizes it or not, Brody already owns me—body, mind, and soul.
Chapter Twelve
Brody
Amelia watches me as I clean my cum off her gorgeous tits. Seeing it painted across her like an exotic piece of abstract art does something to me. I’m not exactly sure what it is. Thoughts are trying to edge in and ruin the high I’m basking in, but I quickly push them out, refusing to regret this. There will be plenty of time for that later.
I take my time dragging the rag over her nipples and watch them harden. Dipping my head, I draw my tongue over the dusky bud as I finish cleaning her stomach. Her back arches, hands slipping into my hair. Playfully, I press her nipple against my teeth, applying pressure until she lets out a little gasp of pleasure and pain, sensing her threshold and learning her body. I kiss away the sting as I trail my other hand down her stomach and between her legs.
I may not be able to give her all of me, but I can damn well give her pleasure like she’s never known before. It’s that commitment and consolation that eases my guilt. I
trail my fingers up the soft skin of her inner thigh then along her sensitive slit, parting her silky folds, when a shrill scream from across the hall rips me from the moment.
Amelia startles as I reflexively jump up.
“I’ve got her,” I tell Amelia, reaching for my gym shorts tangled in the bedsheets. My hard-on is gone as I yank them over my hips and rush to Lily’s room. I find her sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes. She’s been sobbing, and a wave of guilt crashes over me. I feel like the world’s shittiest father for being across the hall doing what I’d been doing with Lily’s nanny while she was in here having a nightmare. What the fuck am I thinking?
“Hey, Lily pad,” I croon, clicking on the nightlight and crawling into bed beside her. She has a twin and I can barely fit in the thing, certainly not comfortably. She’s still crying as I pull her into my arms, tucking her trembling body against mine. So tiny, my Lily pad. She’s such an outgoing girl that she seems larger than life. I sometimes forget how fragile she really is.
“It’s okay,” I whisper against her hair. “Daddy’s here.” She turns into my chest and wraps her arms around me, holding on as if her little life depends on it. It breaks my fucking heart to see her like this. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why are you crying?”
“I dreamed,” she hiccups as I rub her back in slow, soothing circles. It’s the quickest way to calm her, and the fastest way to put her to sleep. “I dreamed you died.”
Her tears scald my chest. I’m lost for what to do, what to say other than to continue to reassure her that I’ll always be here for her.
“It’s just a bad dream. We all have them. Close your eyes and try to sleep. I’ll be right here.”
“Don’t leave me, Daddy.”
Tears rise, clogging my throat, burning my eyes. “I won’t, baby.” My voice cracks as I swallow the emotion choking me. It’s not the first time she’s asked for this promise, and it won’t be the last, yet every time it rips my goddamn heart out. “I love you, Lily pad. More than anything in the whole world.”
“I love you, too, Daddy.” And then she drifts back to sleep because I’ve been rubbing her back this whole time.
I have two choices, stay here with Lily or go back to Amelia and finish what we started. But right now, at this moment, I’m exactly where I want to be—where I need to be. I readjust in a poor attempt to fit comfortably on the bed. Closing my eyes, I give up on comfort. Holding my little girl is worth every ache I’ll be feeling in the morning.
…
Amelia
Last night was amazing—until it wasn’t. I’d hoped Brody would come back after getting Lily to sleep. I wonder if he regrets what happened between us. I guess I have two choices—pretend it didn’t happen or act like it did.
My cell buzzes on the island and I pick it up. Hi, this is Brad. Hope it’s okay I got your number from Kim. Is Lily free for a playdate today?
I’m a little surprised that he’s texting me, but I don’t mind. The girls are close—it makes sense for him to have my number.
Sorry, not today. Lily’s going to the zoo. This is Brody’s one day off, and Lily doesn’t have preschool. We made plans to go to the zoo, but I’m considering bowing out. It would be good for them to spend the day together.
The zoo sounds great. ;)
Winky-face emoji? I can’t tell if Brad’s just being friendly or if he’s being “friendly.” I don’t want to lead him on, nor do I want to make an ass out of myself by reading more into it than I should. And now he thinks I’m inviting him to the zoo. I’m sure that would go over great with Brody.
Brody is home today. I think they want some family time.
Damn, my bad. Maybe some other time?
Sure.
Coffee, then?
Wait, what? Coffee?
Sounds like the nanny gets the day off. Want to grab some coffee?
If I wasn’t in love with my boss, I absolutely would. Brad is handsome, charming, and fantastic with Maddie. Only problem is he’s not Brody. God, I’m pathetic. Here I am, pining for a guy who literally told me last night that he only wanted me for sex.
Would coffee really be a bad idea? It’s not like Brody and I are dating. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my boss—who I happen to be messing around with, who happened to give me not one but two amazing orgasms last night.
Okay, yeah, I should tell Brad no to the coffee invite. Before I can respond and politely decline, Brody saunters into the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck like it aches. He heads straight for the cupboard with the ibuprofen and shakes a few pills into his hand before popping them into his mouth and then downing them with a glass of water.
He’s yet to acknowledge me, and each second that passes ratchets my anxiety. Well, if he isn’t going to say anything, then I will. “Good morning.”
He winces as if the sound of my voice pains him. I’m growing increasingly tense and angry by the second. “How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Pretty rough. Remind me to get Lily a bigger bed.”
“I can stop by the furniture store today and have one delivered,” I offer.
He shuffles toward me, moving slow. I notice the bruise on his ribs is darker this morning, an angry purplish-blue, but his brow looks good.
“Thought you were going to the zoo with me and Lily?”
Does he still want me to go? Is he disappointed that I’m not? He stops in front of me, the corner of the island separating us.
“I was, but it’s not very often you two get the chance to spend the day alone together.” I can’t read his expression as he studies me, the blue in his eyes are extra vibrant today, adding an intensity that makes my pulse quicken.
“If that’s what you want.”
I’m relieved he didn’t pressure me to come along, and yet disappointed. “Well, I’m going to start breakfast.” I step past him and head for the fridge. A moment later, my cell buzzes on the counter as I’m pulling out the fixings for breakfast burritos.
“Who’s Brad?”
The sharpness in Brody’s tone catches me off guard and immediately puts me on the defense. “Excuse me?”
“Is this why you’re canceling on Lily?” He holds up my cell, which has the incoming message open on the display screen. I really need to change that setting. “So that you can go to coffee with Brad?”
He’s pissed. More pissed than I’ve ever seen him, and more than he has any right to be. And now I’m getting mad because A—it’s not like that, and B—he’s the one that told me he wasn’t interested in a relationship, and now here he is, acting pretty damn jealous if you ask me. “How is that any of your business?”
“It’s my business because I’m not paying you to go out with other guys.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t recall ‘no days off’ and ‘celibacy’ being a requirement in my contract.” I snap.
“Neither is common sense, but it’s implied.”
Ho-ly shit. Brody is waaay out of line. Not only is he being rude, he’s acting like a complete asshole. I’ve never seen this side of him before, and—news flash—I don’t like it.
“Wait a minute. Are you telling me that I can’t date anyone as long as I’m working for you?”
“Do you want to date someone?” he challenges.
“I think you know what I want,” I throw the remark right back at him and then instantly regret it.
He exhales roughly and drags his fingers through his hair.
“You know we have to talk about last night, right?” I just lay it out there. I’m not one to play games or avoid difficult conversations, and something tells me that this one is going to hurt. “You didn’t come back to my room last night.”
He meets my gaze, holds it for a heartbeat, then slowly lets his eyes drag over me. “I fell asleep. I was drunk.”
Oh, hell no. I’m not going to let him out of this that easily. He might have been drunk when he got home, but that man was stone cold sober when he crawled into my bed. “You were not drunk,” I snap. �
�Jesus, Brody, don’t cheapen what happened last night. If you regret it, then man up and admit it, but don’t you dare blame it on alcohol.”
Guilt flashes across his face a moment before his expression locks down. He’s in self-preservation mode. I’m making him defensive, and that’s not smart. But I’m pissed and offended and, yeah, a little hurt he didn’t come back last night. “You don’t get to push me away and then be jealous that someone asks me out. You can’t have it both ways. You either want this to happen or you don’t.”
“And what is this exactly? I told you I don’t want a relationship, Amelia. I told you that I can’t love you. Do you think that’s going to change because I gave you a couple of orgasms?”
Ouch. He’s lucky I’ve got a master’s in psychology and that I’m smart enough to realize what he’s doing, or we would be finished. The ruder he gets, and the more he lashes out, the more he proves he cares and that this is a hell of a lot more than he’s claiming it is. He’s scared, and he’s acting like a bear caught in a trap. I’m not going to gain any ground fighting with him, so I take the defense.
“Brody, this can be whatever you want it to be. I’m not asking for a commitment from you, but I will not let you make me feel used, or let you cheapen what we did last night.”
“Fuck.” He scrubs his hands over his face and then drags them through his hair as he tips his head back, appearing to search the ceiling for answers.
When he finally looks back at me, it’s like a physical blow. I can see the misery in his eyes, and I want to help him, but I can only stretch out my hand so far. He’s going to have to be the one to take hold of it.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole here. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
“Then don’t shut me out, Brody. Let me be your friend. Let me help you. Last night was…really great. I have no regrets. There’s no reason we can’t enjoy each other while I’m here.” I can’t believe I’m propositioning my boss for sex. He’s looking at me like he can’t believe I’m saying it either. “Listen, we’re both adults. You’ve been honest and upfront with me. I have no expectations of you beyond a good time. What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom.” I shrug, wondering if it can ever be that simple. “In there, I’m your equal. You’re not my boss, and I’m not your nanny. Outside the bedroom, it’s business as usual.”
The Nanny Rules Page 8
