“Nicole in the sleeper.”
We vaulted into action. He scooped up Nicole, who didn’t wake, and I headed for the bathroom. It was small, but not as small as on a commercial flight. There was room for two, and it was clean and warm. I was barely in when he followed, snapping the door behind him, and suddenly the space was half the size and twice as hot. He pushed me against the counter, face smashed to mine, popping my jeans open.
He took his lips away from mine. “I want to see you. Lean back, beautiful.” I leaned back, putting both hands on the counter behind me. He slid his hands down my pants, unceremoniously finding my wet clit. I vibrated everywhere.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Like that.”
He pulled one of my legs up until my foot was on the opposite wall.
“Go on,” he said. “Come on my fingers. And look at me.”
“I want to tell you something,” I said. Barely.
“I’m not stopping so you better start talking.”
“I’m with you. You. Small-Town Brad smoking behind the candy store. That’s who’s touching me right now.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
The sensations got harder and hotter, growing into a ball of pleasure bigger than my body. I kept my eyes open for him, letting his face fill me.
“I’m going to—” I stiffened and came, open mouth, no sound, eyes closed. With his free hand he held my jaw, rubbing past when he should.
“Stop!”
He didn’t.
“Look at me this time,” he growled, putting two fingers inside me, pressing my clit with the heel of his hand.
“God, fuck,” I said through clenched teeth as another orgasm pushed through. My hips jerked. I kept my eyes open, letting him own me fully. I was blind with pleasure, but I could see the satisfaction in his expression in the warm lights.
I pulled my body forward and I fell against him.
“Thank you,” I said, chest heaving.
“I had no idea you were so hot. I need time to figure out just how hot you get.”
I pushed away and went right for his fly, popping the button open.
“Let’s start with the next ten minutes.”
“Oh, yeah?”
I unzipped him with one hand and pulled his dick out with the other.
“I really like what you have here, Brad.” It fit in my hand like it was made for me. It put me in control. I licked my lips and put my mouth close to his. “Kiss me now. The next time you kiss me I’m going to taste like you.”
He grabbed me by the hair on the back of my neck and smashed his lips on me, open mouth, tongue tasting me. Then he yanked me away by the hair.
“Start sucking then,” he said through his teeth.
I kneeled. Took a breath. Been a long time. I licked the length of it, tongue flat, making it slick and wet as he gripped my hair.
“You’re teasing me,” he groaned.
I looked up at him, mouth poised on his tip, holding it by the base.
“Make me take it,” I said, then opened my mouth.
His eyes went to surprise, then to heat as he gripped my hair even tighter and pulled my head into his dick. I opened my throat and took him, fighting the urge to gag, still pushing forward. He went down my throat and I let him push my head forward until my nose was pressed against him.
He pulled me off him and I breathed.
“Jesus.” He was in pure shock. Then he smiled and I had to smile back up at him. I didn’t know how much longer I could surprise him, but I loved the ride.
“Keep calling him and he might show up. I’d hate for the second coming to be anywhere but my face.”
He tried to keep a straight face, but laughed anyway. Then I laughed. Me and Small-Town Brad. I was sure I’d like him with or without the fancy career.
“All right,” he said, weaving his fingers in my hair more tightly. “You asked for it.”
I sucked in a deep breath and took his dick. Sliding, sucking, breathing him in. He thrust harder and faster, letting me breathe when I yanked back. I went into a zone, using his rhythms, groaning deep inside. I was wet again for him, throbbing with every thrust. I wrapped my hands around his shaft, sliding along the length when he pulled out.
“Come in my mouth,” I gasped before I opened up and took him again, using my spit as a lubricant for my hands.
A long, deep groan escaped him, and he pulsed as he came down my throat.
When he was done, I swallowed and dropped back against the cabinets. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor with me.
“Fuck.” He shook his head in fascination. “You’ve got a whole other side.”
I rubbed my aching jaw. “I was out of practice.”
He leaned forward and kissed me.
“No one at home’s going to understand you.”
“I’m not that complex.”
“I mean that you’re a nanny. What that means.”
“And the fact that we’re fucking?”
“That should probably stay under wraps. They don’t care you’re the nanny, they care we’re not married.”
“I think that’s all right. I still don’t want to confuse Nicole. So I’ll just be your employee out there.”
He stroked my face right there on the bathroom floor.
“The shoot in Thailand. It’s in ten days,” he said. “Are you guys coming? I’ll have her back in time for school. And I’ll have you back so sore you won’t be able to do anything but beg for it again.”
“Can’t wait.”
I couldn’t. Even knowing it was all going to end soon enough, I wanted him. Impractically, foolishly, shamelessly, I wanted him.
CHAPTER 51
BRAD
Dad drove us from the airport, just like he did when I didn’t have money for a cab. He and I sat in the front, Nicole and her nanny in the back. Cara rooted around her bag for the first few miles.
“My phone. I swear it was on the table and now it’s nowhere.”
“When we get home you can call the hotel and see if they have it,” I said.
“So frustrating.” She kept looking at the bottomless pit of her purse. She didn’t know the meaning of frustrating. Frustrating was leaving it under my pillow in the hotel and feeling like a shit heel.
“So,” Dad looked at Cara in the rearview, rubbing the spot where his right pinkie used to be, “what are we calling you?”
I wanted to kick him. I knew he didn’t like the idea of me getting help with Nicole, but if he was going to be an asshole about me bringing Cara, I was going to kill him.
Cara didn’t seem to mind.
“Cara’s fine. Nicole calls me Miss Cara.”
Dad nodded. “Good. Children need to have respect. This first name business really puts me off.”
“What should I call you?” she asked.
“Grandpa!” Nicole chimed in.
“He’s your grandfather, sweetheart,” I said. “Not Miss Cara’s.”
“Milton’s fine,” Dad said. “My wife’s Ermine. Everyone calls her Erma.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“You got any . . .” He waved his hand as if trying to clear the dust off the right word. “. . . whaddya call? You a vegetarian or anything?”
“Nope. I eat everything.”