Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)

I watch his face as he slips a pair of fingers inside of me, sending this erotic chill through my whole body that has my skin breaking out into goose bumps. The sensation amps up when he leans his muscular body over mine and uses his other hand to pull my shirt and bra away from my left breast, cupping the sensitive flesh in one black gloved hand.

My face fills with heat and my body rocks back into his hand, enjoying the subtle manipulation of his fingers against my core. When he introduces a third finger and slicks it across my ass, I tighten up a little.

“Relax,” Zayden whispers as he massages my breast with one hand, my ass and pussy with the other. “I won't take it too far, I promise.”

He teases and manipulates me, pinching my nipple and alternating between finger fucking me and playing with my clit. When he finally slips that single, wet finger into my ass, I groan and shudder as new sensations ripple over me, a completely different sort of warmth filling my body.

It feels like there are strings from my nipples, my clit, my pussy, my ass, that all connect straight to the base of my spine, twisting energy together in an explosive orgasm.

“Do you like that, baby?” he asks me, but I can't answer. Can barely breathe.

Zayden's putting some gentle pressure against the wall between his fingers, that sensitive strip that connects my pussy and my ass. I almost come right then, but he stops me at the last second by pulling away and leaving me gasping.

“Turn around,” he commands, moving his kit from the sink onto a shelf behind him. I do as he asks and let him use his left arm to take me by the waist, lifting me up onto the counter. My back leans against the mirror as Zayden steps between my legs and puts his right hand against my silken core. This time, I can look down and see the black fingers of his gloves slipping into me, teasing wetness onto the latex. That third finger slips back into my other opening and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming. No way I'm letting that weird Shotgun Pot Guy hear me getting fingered.

Zayden leans in and captures my mouth, shifting his body as close as he can get it without interrupting the motion of his hand. We kiss sharp and fierce and hungry as his left hand finds my breast again and I look down to see all of that darkness obscuring the tattoos on his arm, kneading the pale round globe, pinching the pebbled pink of my nipple.

My hips arch up into his hand and Zayden chuckles.

“Fuck me,” I say, wanting him to feel good, too, feeling self-conscious that I'm the only one writhing like an idiot.

“I am,” he whispers against my ear, and then he picks up the pace, slamming his knuckles into me and sending sharp thrills into the base of my spine where all that energy's stored. I gasp and wrap my arms around his neck, trying to ride this out, to wait for him to undo his pants and push inside of me with his cock.

But he doesn't, watching me with half-lidded eyes as I find my pleasure with his hand.

I think his face in that moment is the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life.

When I come, I can't help it, I tilt my head back and let out the loudest, deepest, most embarrassing sound of my entire life, shuddering and bucking against Zayden as I come hard and fast around his fingers.

He waits there as I gasp and struggle for breath, his left arm circling my waist and holding me close, the sound of his beating heart thundering in my ears. Then Zay steps back and I watch with a heavy-lidded languorous expression as he strips off his gloves and tosses them in the trash can. His eyes look almost emerald when they take me in, sitting with my butt half in the sink and my legs spread wide. From the bulge in his jeans, I can tell he wants to keep going, but he holds back, reaching out his hand for mine and helping me up.

“Do you think your aunt's floundering under all those kids yet?” he asks me, and I smile, glancing over my shoulder one more time to look in the mirror. My piercing, it looks amazing—and so does the expression on my face. I have this womanly sense of satisfaction curling my lips that I've never seen before.

It looks nice. Really nice actually.

I turn back to Zayden and wrinkle my nose.

“I think she was floundering before she ever got started.”

He laughs and then pauses when a fist slams into the wall next to us, gritting his teeth as he curls his hands into fists.

“That motherfucker better be out of there by the time my brother gets back, or I swear to God …” I grin and reach up to take Zayden's face between my hands, pressing a quick kiss to his lips that shuts him up almost instantly before he grins back at me. Then I reach down and take his hand, leading him outside and over to his sister-in-law's minivan.

I don't look at his beat up old Geo because I really, really don't want to think about him driving back to Las Vegas in it.



Monica looks like she's halfway to the grave when we get home that night, already waiting on the porch with her coat on by the time we get out of the van. When she sees the piercing in my eyebrow, hers shoot up to her hairline.

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