CEO's Secret Baby: A Single Dad & Nanny Romance Page 9

  “You’re making me wet,” I panted.

  “I know,” he said wickedly.

  I shut my eyes, waiting for his clever fingers to slide into me, but it was instead the shock of his hot, velvet mouth. His tongue traced the folds of my sex, his thumbs stroking just outside the lips. That sensation was fiery and strong, making my legs writhe and my fingers twist in the sheets beneath me. He wasn’t hurrying to the finish line either. He was teasing me, slowly coaxing a response from me. His fingers pet my stomach, stroking my mound as I grew wetter. He had to taste that, had to feel it. Then he parted the lips of my sex and kissed me there, stroking with his tongue as if he were kissing my mouth passionately. I felt my hips come up off the bed, felt myself press against his mouth for more. It was at once the most romantic and the filthiest thing that had ever happened to me. It was a level of intimacy that I’d never known. His tongue inside of me, tasting and lapping as if it were the most irresistible flavor he’d ever had. He dug his fingers into my full hips to hold me to his mouth, feasting on me. I bucked once, twice, my hand covering my mouth to try to hold back the animal noises I was making. He licked me just right and all the light swirled out of the room and I broke apart, screaming. The climax ripped through me until I thought I’d levitate off the bed.

  Then he took his mouth from me and stroked the pad of his thumb along the length of my slit, sending shivers through me. He worked me with his hand, cupped my quivering, heated pussy and then fondled me, pincered my clit between two fingers until I was coming and coming, weeping his name and grinding against his wicked hand. I was soaked, shaking. He was in the spot where I needed him most, and the waves of hot pleasure ripped through me with no mercy. My legs jerked in the aftermath, and I panted heavily to catch my breath.

  William moved up the bed and drew me into the circle of his arms, “I’m here. I have you,” he said. I nodded, sniffled. He kissed my cheek, kissed my tears, “Never cry over me, Jess. I’m not worth it,” he said, and his voice was hoarse with emotion.

  I buried my face in his chest, soaking his sweater with tears as he held me. I wept not only for the earth-shaking release he’d given me, but of the glimpse I’d seen of the man beneath the bravado. The arrogance, the formality—all of it masked a deep wound, a feeling of unworthiness that I knew I couldn’t begin to fix. I was only a secret lover.

  All I could do was ache for him, for the fact that he’d been hurt so badly long before I came into the picture. I pictured his heart as a big, scarred-over thing that I could batter against all my life and never get through. I cried for both of us, for what we might have had. This was all so bittersweet. I held on to him for a long time after my tears had subsided. I had to collect myself so I didn’t declare my love or tell him I was already in too deep to let him go.

  When I pulled back, I managed a smile, “Your turn.”

  “I thought that was my turn. I quite liked it.”

  “You can’t have liked it as much as I did. It was incredible. I just want to return the favor. Is there anything you’d like?” I said. I trusted him enough to ask, to discuss this without fearing that he’d pull out nipple clamps and a whip.

  William brushed the hair back from my face and kissed my forehead, “Just you, darling. I’d like very much to make love to you.”

  “Yes,” I said, because I knew he was holding back, waiting for my yes before he’d proceed.

  That yes unlocked him, and he peeled off his clothes. While he was removing his Chicago Bears socks, I leaned against his bare, muscular back, kissed his shoulder and the back of his neck. I pressed my breasts against his back and licked just behind his ear.

  “Mmmm… you have no idea what it does to me to know you want me like this,” he said.

  “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, William,” I said. I wondered if it was too much, if he would read into that confession and know how I loved him.

  “That’s the best thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “There’s more if you want to hear it,” I teased.

  “Really? Do tell?”

  “Well, you’re a very skilled Jenga player. You laugh at my jokes. You know a healthy amount of football trivia.”

  “That’s all? I graduated summa cum laude from Northwestern,” he said.

  “I don’t need your resume. You look good in logo socks, and there’s the most delicious freckle right there—“ I brushed my fingers over a freckle on his lower back. Then I kissed his shoulder and the swell of his bicep, “You obviously work out. For my birthday I want to watch you do push ups. It’s all I can do not to bite your arm right there,” I said, indicating the thickest part of his heavily muscled arms.

  “Go right ahead. Lick and bite anything you want,” he said.

  I leaned over and nipped his bicep, my fingers digging into his back, “Your skin tastes incredible.”

  “Come here,” he said, turning around and bearing me down onto the bed.

  He pinned my wrists with his hands and worked his mouth all over my neck. Helpless to get my hands onto his shoulders or into his hair, I kicked my legs out from under his and wrapped them around his hips. I could feel that thick, powerful erection on my stomach, the rod of it pressing into me. I arched toward him just to feel more of it. He shifted so his thigh was between my legs. I rocked against his strong thigh shamelessly, grinding against him as he licked and sucked my breasts, first one, then the other.

  “Do you want me to let you up?” he asked. I shook my head.

  “No, I want you to hold me down,” I said. He nipped my chin, kissed my lower lip teasingly.

  “Good girl,” he said, “Now let go so I can move. You have the strongest thighs. I love being clamped between them, but there’s a part of me that can’t get where it needs to be.”

  I loosened the grip of my thighs around him and felt him shift, canting his hips so the damp, blunt head of his cock nested just against my sex. He rubbed it all over, tracing the outline of my cleft, stroking my clit through the soaking wetness between my legs. He coated himself in my wetness, whispered, “You’re all juicy for me, Jess. You filthy girl.” He gripped my wrists tighter and plunged his cock inside me. When he penetrated me, the size of him made me spread my legs further to take him in. The force of his thrust lifted my hips off the bed as I struggled to take it all. His mouth clamped on my nipple and he sucked hard.

  “God, you feel so good—“ he broke off. I pushed down against him, rolled my hips in a circle so I could feel every inch of him inside me. He groaned, “God, no, don’t do that, you know I’ll come—“

  I grinned. He scraped his teeth along my nipple, and I arched up against him, rubbing my breasts against his chest, “Kiss me,” I said, “Kiss me or I’ll keep doing that and show you no mercy.”

  With that, William’s mouth was on mine, his tongue mimicking the hard thrusts of his cock pushing into my plump, sensitive sex, slick and eager for him. I wanted him to come, wanted to make him lose his mind with arousal. I hooked one leg over his hips and started bucking with him, meeting his thrusts. He groaned into my mouth, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. He released my right wrist. I delved my hand into his hair to hold his mouth to mine. He reached between us, teasing fingers trailing down my stomach, dipping between my legs to the spot right above where we joined. He rubbed me furiously, giving me no quarter, pumping inside of me hard and pinching and pushing my clit until I came, a gush of wetness pouring over his cock as he thrust into me, pounded me. He had to let go of my other hand to hold my hips, to hold me still to take his hard, pounding thrusts. I tried to crawl away from him once, still splintering apart from the orgasm and too tender, too weak to endure what he wanted from me. So as he pounded into me with that heavy, huge cock, he brushed his thumb over my clit in time with his thrusts until I was bucking, begging with my third orgasm until I nearly blacked out when I felt him blow deep inside me. I was so full of him, and the liquid proof of it leaked out of me between us, as he was still inside me,
as if reluctant to let me go.

  He kissed me, his tongue coaxing and gentle. I wound my arms around him and whimpered a little at the sweetness of the kiss.

  “I didn’t hurt you did I?” he said.

  I shook my head, “There’s a chance I went blind from that last orgasm you gave me.”

  “Good. I want to make you crazy like that. You drive me wild just walking around this place, laughing your laugh and wearing your jeans and I just want to—do things.”

  “What things?” I challenged. He kissed my cheek and my neck.

  “Every dirty thing you can think of. I’ve imagined having you in the shower, you down on your knees taking my cock in your mouth. I’ve thought of bending you over that dresser and taking you from behind so long and torturously slow that you beg for me, that you dig your nails into the wood of the dresser because I’ve got you so wound up. I woke up this morning and had to rip the sheets off the bed because I was dreaming that I had you here beneath me, and I was working my cock into you an inch at a time but I came too fast. Even in my dreams I can’t resist you. You overwhelm me.”

  William held me in his arms, spooned up behind me. He kissed my bare shoulder sweetly.

  “I think about you, too,” I confessed, “After you left the diner, after you gave me that kiss—“

  “Did you dream of me last night then?”

  “No—I went into the ladies room. The other workers thought I was just upset and went in there to cry. But I wasn’t crying. I was so turned on, William. God, you’ll think I’m such a slut if I tell you this—“

  “I just told you I had a wet dream about you like I was seventeen. There is nothing you could admit that’s worse than that,” he said, nuzzling my hair with a chuckle.

  “I went in the stall, put my hand up my skirt and—I couldn’t help myself,” I said, embarrassed.

  “Oh, God, Jess,” he groaned. I felt it, although I could hardly believe it. He was growing hard against me, his cock stiffening against the curve of my ass, “Tell me what you were thinking of. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “I was thinking—of you coming in and locking the door to the bathroom, lifting me up onto the sink and pushing up my skirt. You—you ripped off my panties and threw them in the trash because they were in your way. And you just fucked me right there. I held onto the sink and you only took down your zipper because you couldn’t wait. You just pounded into me, like you did just now. It felt so amazing, like you were claiming me down to my bones. I loved it. I do love it—”

  He was so hard behind me now that I reached back to stroke him in wonder, the stiff, steel of his erection and the velvet heat of his soft skin.

  “I love making you come. The way you clench around my hand or my cock, the sounds you make. Your noises just tear me up. I want it all the time. I jerked off in the shower last night. I can’t keep my hands off of you, off of myself. Now I’ve tasted you, and it’s worse. Because I could bury my face between your legs and eat you for hours, making you come again and again until you beg me to stop. Then I’d do it one more time.”

  William slid his hand over my stomach, down between my legs. I was wet there again, and still sticky from before. I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn’t. This was what sex was with us was, there were no secrets, no places to hide. So when he moved his hand through that mess and flicked my clit, I jerked with pleasure, not shame.

  “Can you take me again? I think you can feel how much I want you,” he breathed in my ear. My nipples hardened to points and my stomach tightened.

  “Yes,” I whispered, “please. Tell me where you want me.”

  “Right there. Just exactly as you are, your back to me.”

  William drew my right leg back over his. His fingers were still between my legs, stroking and readying me. So when he slid into me easily, it was like being filled up, a breathless, sweet moment that made me bite my lips. Once he was within me, he covered my breast with his other hand, fondling the swell of flesh, teasing and pinching the nipple until I pushed back against his cock. He was taking me so slowly, so sweetly that it broke my heart. His hand low on my stomach, fingering my clit, held me fast against him, and I could feel the length of his cock against my bottom as he pulled out and thrust in again. I reached back and stroked his hair as he dipped his head to my neck to kiss and suck right where my throat met my shoulder. He fingered me fast and hard even as his cock was a slow burn between my legs, gradual, deep thrusts that shook me to the core. I felt the shakes start in my limbs. I tried to push his hand away from between my legs because the intensity was too much. He held fast, rubbing me quicker, pushing harder, dipping one finger back to the start of my opening and stroking there, sending icy spikes of tingling pleasure up from his touch until I felt like my clit was being electrocuted. I screamed and pushed back against him to take as much of his cock as I could while I came, clenching hard around him until he roared his own climax, shooting into me with wild jerks as he gripped my stomach and my breast like I was the spur of wood keeping him from drowning.

  “Fuck, Jess, “he moaned as the last of his orgasm drifted away.

  I was shattered by the tenderness, by how deep he had been inside me. I couldn’t face him. He’d know instantly that I was in love.

  “You’re doing a terrible job,” he said, “Of keeping me from falling for you. This is supposed to be fun, sneaking around like this. And all I want right now is to keep you in this bed with me all night. Just to hold you and feel you sleeping on my chest. I sound like the worst idiot from every Tom Hanks film.”

  “I wasn’t aware that Tom Hanks films ever referred to sex. Or sneaking around.”

  “True, but that would make me the repulsive friend with all the innuendo then. The one who wants something he can’t have.”

  “You can have that, William,” I said, “I can stay.”

  “What if David came in here? Sometimes he does if he has a bad dream.”

  “What if he did? He’d think I was sleeping over.”

  “I don’t want to risk it.”

  “I know. I want to protect him, too. But I feel like you’re protecting him, and yourself, from me.”

  “Maybe I am, Jessica. I don’t deny it. You agreed to keep this secret.”

  “Yes, I did. And I want more. I can want things, William.”

  “Even if you know you can’t have them,” he said grimly, pulling away.

  “Yes,” I agreed, and sat up, “I need a shower.”

  “Go right ahead,” he said, indicating the adjoining bathroom.

  The whole time I stood beneath the water I wished he’d come join me, that he’d kiss me under the hot streaming spray, that he’d beg me to stay. I knew better, and, of course, he never even knocked. I got dressed afterward and went home after an awkward cheek kiss. I missed him so much that my chest hurt from it, but I wasn’t going to beg him to let me spend the night.

  8

  William

  It could be over, because I wouldn’t let her sleep in my bed.

  I wasn’t just afraid David would creep in see her. That was only part of it. I was afraid I’d like it too well.

  Already the way she fit back against me in bed. The way she reached back for my hair, the way she covered my hand with her to guide me when I was rubbing between her legs, working that clit that pulsed and swelled for my touch—it was too addictive. I hadn’t been lying when I said I was getting hooked on her body, on sex with her. It was like a madness had seized me, until all I wanted was this sweaty, naked closeness, the way she touched me and looked at me and wanted me. I felt alive again. I felt like a man for the first time in a long time.

  So I wanted to possess her, to capture her and make her mine, but to keep her in her place, at her own apartment, and working for me so I didn’t have to deal with an actual personal relationship. The Bears game was for her; it was the date I couldn’t take her on, the way I wanted to spoil her but that I couldn’t allow myself. She was so beautiful, so
trusting. It broke me when she said yes and please to me. All I wanted to do was protect her from myself, and protect myself from her. Because she could be my undoing. She could be the one I didn’t survive.

  Losing Heather had damn near killed me. If it hadn’t been for the baby, I would’ve drank myself to death the first month, no question. Still, I was shattered, weak, at best in a rotten mood and at worst completely useless. If my assistant hadn’t hired a baby nurse for nights and a nanny for days, we never would have made it. I was too destroyed by Heather’s leaving. There was no room in my heart for a child, for anything. I was ashamed of how long it was before I found actual delight in my own son. Certainly I held him, fed him, read to him, but it was all by rote, my heart wasn’t in it. It stretched on for months, that depression, that sense that my life was over. That nothing could ever be good again. I had finally seen a doctor, gotten counseling and medication. That was how I finally connected with David, but even then it was a feeling that he was mine to protect, that my mission was to stop another Heather from ever getting to him and hurting him. And there must be others, I had thought, other women so alluring that you lose your senses until it’s too late.

  Until you’re married.

  Until you’re having a child you never wanted or agreed to.

  Until you’ve been left, your savings account emptied and your new Porsche long gone with your wife.

  Until all that’s left is regret and fury and pain. A bone deep loneliness that should be deadly, but that’s its worst trick—you live through it and live with it every damned day.

  I had opened myself up to that kind of hurt all over again. This time it was worse. This time David was older, aware. And this time I should have known better. I lay on the bed feeling wrecked. I got up and got a drink from the bottle I kept in my bottom drawer. I swallowed the bland burn of vodka and went in to shower, to get her off my skin. I ran my hands over the tiled wall, wondering if she’d leaned her bare body against it and wept, wondering what she would have done if I had broken down the door, gone to my knees in the shower and hooked her thigh over my shoulder, taking her sex into my mouth until she was willing to agree to any terms I set. Any way that I could keep her in my life without risking the hell I’d been through before. She had cried in my arms, and I had felt it in my own chest like a screwdriver between the ribs. Her tears had scalded me, and I couldn’t bear the thought of her pain, her feelings of rejection and loss when I pushed her away. But my own fear, that towering fear was worse. It strangled me. I couldn’t let her in any further and still guarantee my own survival. There would be no doctor, no pill that could save me.