Page 27 of The Billionaire and the Nanny: Part 2

Bailey

Butterflies race inside my belly.

I’ve never waited with baited breath for a man to come to my room before, and now it’s happened twice in a month. When that man is NYC’s hottest bad boy billionaire, Zayden Hawthorn, the butterflies are times a thousand. My body vibrates with need just sitting here waiting.

Sure enough, around midnight, he knocks quickly and then props the door open without waiting for me to open it. I know I should be offended at his invasion of privacy, but I also like the way he just takes what he wants. It’s not like me to feel that way, but Zayden has taken everything I thought I knew about myself and smacked it hard on itsass.

I honestly don’t know who I am anymore. Maybe I never knew atall.

“How do you like it?” I spin around showing him the transformed room. I’ve put up tiny string lights, the bedspread and pillows are now gray and yellow, and the room looks a million times better than before. I almost feel like I live here, like I’m an accepted member of the family.

“Cute.” He eyes me like a wolf searching for blood. He wants nothing to do with the décor. He’s only here for me. “Suits you perfectly.”

I cringe. “That word—cute. I hate it. When I was in middle school, a boy I knew rated the girls he knew as ‘cute,’ ‘pretty,’ and ‘beautiful.’ Guess which category he put mein?”

“Insanely sexy?” His eyebrowsrise.

“Nope.”

“Banging hot ass sexy?” He takes my hand and places it on his shoulder, takes my other hand and puts it around his neck. I’m sure he can feel my heart pounding against his stomach.

I laugh. “Nope. Come on, you can doit.”

“Let me guess. He put you in ‘cute,’ because he was an imbecile who couldn’t appreciate the beauty right in front of him.” Zayden bends down to kiss me, but I pull away to look into his eyes reflecting the string lights.

“You just called me cute, too,” Isay.

“No. I called your room cute. You, however, are fucking sexy as fuck. See? I just used fuck twice in one description. That’s how hot youare.”

I giggle, loving this silly side of him. Wish he would be like this more often. “That’ll do.” I let him kiss me, and things scorch up very quickly. I’ve been waiting for him for the better part of two hours now, so I’m wet in no time. Doesn’t really take a lot with Zayden.

We stand in the middle of the room, making out, hands all over each other. He inhales a long whiff of my hair. “You showered and didn’t wait in your towel for me. Tsk, tsk. How dareyou.”

“I can shower again.” I arch an eyebrow.

He takes my hand, and pulls me out of myroom.

“Where are we going?”

“My shower. No offense to your sparkly light palace. Mine’s just better.”

“None taken.” I’ve been dying to see what his room looks like anyway.

Zayden leads me inside, his presence bigger and naughtier than ever before, and I feel like I’ve been let past the threshold of an exclusive club. When we arrive to his gorgeous, sprawling bedroom the size of a small house, he presses a button and the blinds open, letting in the most unreal view of downtown Manhattan I’ve ever seen. “Go get in the shower. Be naked and wet when I get there.”

DearGod…

My insides crumble. Will anyone be able to see me naked when I walkout?

Do I reallycare?

I do as he says, and after about a minute in the shower, he walks in fully naked, his cock springing out like a massive snake, as he pushes me against the wall. His hands grip, search, and feel, as the solidness of his body presses against me. Zayden’s hand scoops around my head, and his other wraps around my waist, reeling me in. I’ve never felt smaller, more delicate, like a molecule getting tossed around by energetic forces.

I melt into his kiss, because there’s nothing else for me to do but follow his command now, let him sway me whichever way he wants. He’s in control tonight. Me, I’m a rag doll in his hands and it’s better this way. He knows what to do. He’s the one with all the experience, and I want him to lead me. His lips and tongue explore me, as his hands masterfully mold my neck then my wet shoulders beaded with hot water. My body gravitates toward Zayden, thrusting against him in the building steam of the shower.

I want my neck between his teeth, I want my tits squeezed by his massive hands. He reads my mind and body beautifully, kissing the desperately aching skin of my neck before reaching down to squeeze my tits, searching for a hard nipple to pinch and massage. “Love these,” he mutters against me. “Perfect for sucking.”

When I groan, a moan escapes his throat muffled up against myneck.

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