I've got my trench coat on again, and even though I feel stupid in it, it keeps everything hidden as I shuffle out of the room and into the hallway. Most of the girls at the club come dressed in jeans and t-shirts and change in the back, but I feel like I need to do it here, in this safe space first. I need to dress up and let my anxiety cool a little before I leave; it's the only way.
“I bet that casserole is just about done,” I say as I heft Grace onto my hip and move down the stairs. Dodger does his utmost to intercept me at the halfway point and trip me, thereby killing both me and my niece when he knocks us down the stairs, but Zay's somehow just there, catching me as I start to pitch forward with a gray and white dog lodged between the toe and heel of my shoe. “Thanks,” I say as he takes Grace from me and carries her the rest of the way.
“No problem. You sure you don't want a slice of delicious chicken-rice-soupy goodness?”
“When you put it like that, how could any girl say no?” I smile when he winks at me, feeling good. Not great, but good. I'm just going to have to live in the moment, I guess. I can't think about how I'll probably be working this job for another year plus … or how my sister might flit in and out of her girls' lives like it's nothing. Hell, or maybe it's worse if she never comes back at all. I can't decide at this point. “I'll be back around two,” I say with a little wave, turning and reaching for the doorknob, almost wishing that Zay would call me into the backyard again for a kiss.
He doesn't though, waving with an oven mitt from the kitchen as I smile and head outside, watching him for as long as I can before it closes with a soft snick.
At least I have something to look forward to. In just a few hours, I'll be letting myself in this door to find him waiting for me.
My heart thrums and palpates with excitement and I start to wonder if Zay's right, if I really do have a crush on him.
Guess it doesn't matter much either way, does it?
After my first Friday night at the club, I can see why the manager gave me Saturday off. I feel overwhelmed as hell by the whole scene. It's definitely not my thing, not at all. The first time I got up on stage, with My Darkest Days' song, “Porn Star Dancing” playing in the background, I froze up like a deer caught in the headlights. My heart started to pound and my pulse was flickering so quickly I thought I might pass out.
I unlock the front door slowly, tentatively, and find Sadie asleep on her back in the crib. Zayden's not in the living room which might mean … he really is waiting for me upstairs. I squeeze inside and close the door as quietly as I can, tiptoeing up the steps and pushing into my bedroom with an anxious swirl twisting around in my tummy.
Oh my. Fucking. God.
Zayden's lying on his back, completely nude with nothing but a thin crumple of sheet covering his cock. He's leaning against the headboard with one arm tossed over his head and the other resting loosely on the rumpled surface of the bed.
When he sees me standing there, he smiles slow and sultry, letting the expression build into a crescendo across his shadowed face.
“Is this what you ordered, Smarty-Pants? Because I aim to please.”
I stand there in my black trench, the lacy lingerie underneath itching to be seen by this man and this man alone.
“A tattooed nanny?” I ask, my voice huskier than I'd meant it to be. “Why the hell would anyone want one of those?”
“Ah, see, you've forgotten the best feature of all.” Zayden takes the crumpled white sheet in his inked fingers and slides it aside, revealing the pierced glory of his hardened shaft. “One hot and ready tattooed nanny. See, I try to offer my clients a full set of services: cooking, cleaning, childcare … and some hair pulling and a hot fuck from behind. What do you say, Brooke Overland? Are you in?”
My breath rushes out in a whoosh and I reach down to untie the trench coat, letting it fall to the floor in a heap of black fabric. Underneath, I've got on a pink lacy bra, matching panties, and a garter belt to hold up my white thigh highs.
Zayden's eyes are impossible to see in the darkness, but his smile is wicked sharp.
I move across the room and climb onto the bed, letting him pull me into his lap.
“You're the best nanny ever,” I groan as his lips find my throat and kiss their way down to my collarbone. I can feel his grin against my skin.
“I know. I make the best PB&Js … and I fuck like a goddamn world champ.”
Zayden grabs hold of my ass and yanks me closer, settling the hot warmth between my thighs right over the velvety length of his shaft. When I wiggle my hips a little, he groans and encourages me to move against him, teasing his erection with the lacy texture of my panties.
“How did you know I wanted it from behind?” I whisper as he curls my hair around his fist and uses it to gently shift the position of my head. His grip is firm, but not cruel. I find myself melting into it with a soft sigh.