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I thought giving into my urges would purge me of them. But I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong.
And now, I’m thinking something else entirely. Something even crazier than fucking my nanny.
What would happen if we tried to make this work for real?
37
OLIVIA
If Quinn could see me now, she’d squeal in excitement—because I am letting loose tonight.
I’m on cloud nine. There’s something freeing about stumbling—partly because I’m tipsy but mostly because of my heels—through Reese’s front door after a night of disguises, expensive food, and dirty dancing. I haven’t had so much fun since the last time Quinn and I went clubbing, and that was literal years ago.
At least I have the decency and presence of mind to flush red when the babysitter, who turns out to be a stern-looking middle-aged woman, comes to the front door as Reese and I enter.
“Ah, hello, Mr. Dalton.” She gives me a withering look before turning her attention back to him. “Violet was a perfect angel tonight. She was fed and burped before I put her down to sleep in a clean diaper. She should sleep well into the night.” She reached into the satchel that she has slung over her shoulder. “Here is the NDA your assistant had me sign and the invoice for tonight’s services. Good evening.”
With that, she’s gone. I giggle. “So uptight for a babysitter. I was almost expecting a barely teenaged girl who’d never held a baby before, honestly.”
Reese chuckles. “I think that’d be a bigger scandal than me going to a secret club to grind with a sexy woman.” He gives me one of those core-melting grins he’s been giving me all night.
“Well, this sexy woman wants to wash off. I feel filthy.”
Seeing the fire that ignites in Reese’s eyes lights its own fire deep inside me. It sparks and crackles when he follows me. I don’t go to my room, however—I go to his. Sashaying my hips down the hallway, I can feel his eyes on my body.
I feel reckless. All caution thrown to the wind, and it’s his fault, because I feel so seen when I’m with him. He worships me with his eyes long before he ever lays a finger on me. I’ve never felt sexier or more alive than when Reese Dalton looks at me.
So the gods will have to forgive me if I get a little carried away.
Feeling giddy, I start stripping. First, my heels get kicked off. Then my earrings are tossed onto the top of his dresser. All the while, I steal little sneaky glances back his way. Coy. Playful. I want his attention.
Getting every last bit of it like this just makes me that much hotter.
Next goes the dress. I slip it from my shoulders and down my arms. It puddles in a slinky little mess at my feet just outside his bathroom. I’ve got no bra on, so the only thing between me and nakedness is the thin panties on my hips.
But I don’t take them off. Not just yet. Instead, I step into the bathroom and head straight for the bath. Reese’s is an obnoxiously luxurious whirlpool type, because duh, of course it is. It’s round but still huge enough that I could lie down across the bottom and make snow angels without touching the sides.
With him still behind me, watching hungrily from the bathroom’s door frame, I bend over the tub. I don’t technically have to put my ass up in the air on display for him, but if I do, then… whoops. I swish to one side and then to the other as I crank up the water to a nice high heat.
“You just gonna stand there or you gonna join me, Mr. Dalton?”
It’s then that he moves. I look over my shoulder to see him saunter over, smirking, dangerous, eyes molten with lust. He’s still in his clothes as he molds himself flush to my back. I can feel how hard he is, his cock pressing against my ass through his slacks.
I wriggle back and he pulls away. But I’m not left disappointed as he replaces his clothed cock with his fingers. They slip down the seam of me. Between my barely covered cheeks and then lower, to tease against the wet fabric between my thighs.
I can’t help but gasp as he nudges that fabric aside to sink his fingers in my aching pussy. They crook perfectly and he wastes no time sliding them in and out. I grip the edge of the bath and rock back into him.
“This—this isn’t bathing,” I breathe out.
“Neither was all that teasing you were doing just a few seconds ago.” He leans over me, letting me feel his weight as he fingers me. Reese nips at my ear, just hard enough to make me suck in a breath as the tiniest blip of pain ripples through me. “Then again, who am I to obstruct? You just wanted to get clean, after all. I guess I shouldn’t stand in your way.”
Mercilessly, he pulls his fingers from inside me. He laughs cruelly when I look at him over my shoulder. My expression is probably pathetic, but he’s the one that left me wet, aching, with my clit hard and needy. Then he has the nerve to curve his tongue around his glistening fingers, cleaning off the mess he made of me.
I’m weak, in every sense of the word.
The control was fun while it lasted, but he reclaimed it so effortlessly. The sight of him licking me off of his fingertips is almost enough to make me come on its own. He knows it, too. His eyes gleam wickedly.
I huff and stand just to shove my panties off. Fuck the foreplay and the teasing—I need to be naked, now. His laughter heightens as I splash into the water and sit on one of the ledges.
