Page 9 of The Billionaire and the Nanny: Part 2

Zayden

A whole dayat work to think about what I said, and I still don’t have an answer.

This was the first time I’ve told any woman working in my house that she better be ready for me when I come home. I don’t know why I said that, except that she drives me insane with that innocent, sexy look. No one ever talks to me like that. No one ever challenges me. No one ever looks so fucking hot while doing it either.

Then, there’s Bailey Rainville, owning some sort of power over me. It could just be infatuation. It could be over before I know it. Still, I can’t get involved with her, I know that much. I only wanted to taste her. And I’m pretty sure she wants to taste me, too. A pretty little thing like her is too good to pass up, especially with that bite of spunkiness inher.

Will she follow through?

I saw the way she checked me out yesterday, the same way so many women gawk at me, except in her case, she tried not to show how I affected her. That whole pride thing where a woman can’t give me the satisfaction of showing that she’s wet between the legs for me. I get it—stay coy. But it’s precisely this that’s made me crazy for the new nanny. She’s a dichotomy. An enigma.

I work late into the night and come home when, by all rights, the new nanny could claim to be asleep.

Maybe she’ll take this opportunity to blow off my instructions, and in a way, I’m almost hoping she does blow itoff.

Because I know in my heart that I can only be bad for this girl. If she can resist me, then maybe I can resist hertoo…

Inside, the house is dark and quiet. No baby crying. No downstairs lights on. Just the way I asked for. Only thing different is that the hallway closet is slightly open, and inside I spot a baby stroller folded up. I sigh. A baby lives here. I was hoping to forget. Poor thing, it’s not her fault I don’t want her around. Babies just aren’t my thing.

Slowly, I make my way up the circular staircase, heavy on my feet to let Miss Rainville know I’m home. I allow myself to pretend that she’s my woman, that I’m coming home to fuck her. Bottom up, Mama—Papa’s coming home. On the other hand, part of me wishes she’ll be asleep.

I don’t know why I said what I did last night, except I was under her spell, and I like causing trouble.

I like opening doors to see where theylead.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I peer into the guest room, now a nursery filled with all sorts of unnecessary colors and patterns, but hey—the baby is asleep and the décor gave Bailey something to do. Maybe she was right—maybe Olivia had a stressful first day away from all things familiar, and that’s why she was crying so damnhard.

I move to the next room—Miss Rainville’s. I don’t knock. It’s my door. Turning the handle, I prop it open and let the door fly. It’s semi-dark inside, the only light coming from the city lights in the window and a glowing iPad in bed. She’s awake, tucked in tight with the sheets up to her chin. Her hair is wet but that’s as far as my fantasygoes.

Whatever. Herloss.

“Wise choice,” I tell her with a smirk. She ignored my request to be waiting in a towel. As disappointing as it is, it’s best for both of us. That way, I’m not tempted, and I can move on to banging safer choices, like the moms down at the park, the women I meet at bars, and all the models and socialites when they’re in town for FashionWeek.

But this was the one I wanted most,my brainsays.

“A choice, to be sure,” she says, pulling the comforter aside and stepping out of bed. She’s wrapped in a bath towel. Not only that, but as she slinks closer to me, lips parted, drawing quiet breath from how nervous she is, nimble fingers pull at the overlap on top, and the towel falls away. “Though how wise remains to beseen.”

For several seconds, I take in her naked shape—full-figured with an hourglass and cinched waist. Real. Earthy. I can’t describe it, but you know it when you see it that it’s a real woman’s body. Her tits are round and full, her tummy is totally flat, but her hips are wide, and her legs have meat on them. I’m hard as fuck before I can even check out her legs orfeet.

Fuck the legs and feet. I’ll see them later. I step up to her and pull her into me faster than my head can handle. As my body swoons from seeing my nanny waiting for me naked and covered in goose bumps, I take her face into both my hands and drink her in. Sweeter than any fruit I’ve ever tasted in the most exotic lands. Her pouty lips, the taste of her tongue, the scent of lavender or lemon or something on her skin from her shower, her wet hair clinging to her in dark lines. All ofit.

Her skin is soft like velvet and my cock is raging hard like never before.

Her body falls limp in my arms, as her hands cling to my triceps, trying to keep herself up. I want to do anything and everything to her all at once. I don’t know what the fuck it is, but something overcomes me. It’s not like other women, where pure lust overtakes me on occasion.

No, I’m feeling something…more.

I want to fuck her, but I also feel a strange tenderness towards her. A need pulling deep in my chest that I’m totally surprisedby.

With Bailey, I want to possessher.

And I also want to lay her on the ground face down and fuck her ass, I want to flip her around and fuck her mouth, I want to pound the shit out of that tight, sweet body and make it meld withmine.

Jesus, dude. Get agrip.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” I tell her through breaths. She pulls away. She’s just as desperate to fuck as I am with that yawning, gaping mouth fighting for breath. I push three fingers into her mouth and hold it open, as her eyes widen. “So many things I can do to this pretty little mouth.” I plunge my tongue into her mouth and tasteher.

“Do it,” she says between breaths. “I want this overwith.”

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