Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(107)

Tears start to bead on Brooke's lashes as I flop my body onto the sofa and pull her against me for an old fashioned Zayden Roth snuggle. From what I hear, I'm pretty good at these although I don't hand 'em out often.

“You're a good snuggler,” Brooke sniffles out beneath my chin, her head tucked there like this is where she belongs. “This feels so good.”

“Yeah, well, keep that shit to yourself, okay? Word gets out and all the women in this club will be paying me to take them back here.”

Brooke laughs a little as I rub a hand in a smooth circle on her back, the smell of her hair and perfume invading my senses and finding their way straight down to my dick. I feel so goddamn guilty, but I can't help but be turned on with her sitting on my lap like this. The midriff shirt, the miniskirt, and the glitter don't exactly help.

I am suuuuuch a goddamn piece of shit.

“Zayden,” she whispers as she sits up and looks me in the face, her makeup smeared and sitting on this dangerous edge between sexy and cute.

Awwwwww, man.

I am screwed.

Completely and utterly screwed.

I reach my hands up and place them on either side of Brooke's throat as she sighs and spreads her knees just a little wider, settling the warmth of her pussy right over the bulge in my slacks. I bring her face to mine for a kiss, dominating the action with my hungry mouth and drawing a whimper from her throat. She's vulnerable right now, and I shouldn't be doing this but … Brooke rocks her hips against me and I feel a jolt of wild energy that's nearly impossible to control. Unless she tells me no, this is happening.

My hands hold Brooke's face in a firm but gentle grip, keeping her chin tilted up, her eyes focused on mine as she starts to move against me, giving me one of those lap dances she's so scared of. But guess what? I don't have to keep my hands on the damn armrests. Instead, I slide them down to Brooke's shoulders and then trail my fingertips over her arms.

She shivers and then lifts them up, putting her hands behind my neck as she works my body like she's been doing this for years. Must be instinct. Pure fucking instinct.

I kiss the glitter off Brooke's chest before my hands slide up her belly and under that ridiculously sexy half-shirt, finding her tits encased in a lacy bra. I pop one breast over the wire and shove the t-shirt out of my way to get access to the pebbled pink point of her nipple.

She tastes sweet, clean and soapy, but also a little bit like salt from the sweat of her performance. If I wasn't already about to blow my load … eh, I'm actually pretty much there already.

“Holy shit, Brooke,” I have to lean back and drop my hands to her hips, trying to slow her movements before I finish in my slacks. “If you don't stop that—” She cuts me off with a moan, putting her hand over my mouth as she arches her back and presses her breasts against my chest.

Watching her use me to get off like that?

Turns. Me. The. Fuck. On.

I flip Brooke over onto the tufted leather sofa, shoving her skirt up as I dig in the pocket of my suit jacket for a condom. They spill out and over the floor as I snatch one and put it on with record speed—record fucking speed, baby.

There's no time to take Brooke's thong off, so I just shove the piece of flimsy fabric aside and bury myself deep into her with a hard thrust. Her raw scream of pleasure drives me forward without mercy, burying myself all the way to the hilt with each movement. My piercings are hitting all the right places in this position, teasing her G-spot, turning that face of hers as pink as her eyeshadow.

“Oh yeah, Brooke, baby, take me over the edge.”

“Zay … den,” she starts, her lids fluttering as her body relaxes and her cunt tightens, fingers digging into my scalp, head thrown back into a coil of chocolate dark hair. I cup Brooke's ass tight as I slide into her, watching her expression change from bliss to beautiful anguish. Her orgasm kicks my butt straight to the curb, and I can't hold on a second longer, collapsing on top of her with a pretty ridiculous sounding grunt.

I sound like a fucking wildebeest or something.

But holy hell, it's hot. It's so hot. And I'm not done.

“Brooke,” I start as we both freeze at the sound of a knock on the door. We exchange a look as she shoves me off of her and stands up, fixing her tits and stumbling over to the door to open it a crack.

“Nigel,” she says as she leans out the crack. “What?”

The man outside yanks the door open and finds me stuffing my cock back into my slacks, a used condom tucked in my other hand. I know, it's gross, but what else am I gonna do with it? Leave it on the floor like some fucked up club customer? No thanks. I'll dispose of my own baby juice, alright?

“What the hell is going on back here?” Like he doesn't already know. I raise my eyebrow as I come up to the door and grab hold of it, pushing it open wider so I can stand there and give the short brunette dude a look. People seem to think because I smile and laugh all the time that I'm not really much of a threat. The thing is, I really am six three and I really do workout, sooooo … I can kind of kick a lot of people's asses.