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Something primitive boils over inside of me watching Robert’s dumb fucking face glare at his daughter like she’s a piece of trash and I’m the scum leading her into ruin.
“One hundred thousand,” I yell. The crowd roars. Mallory’s eyes go wide and Robert and Lydia gasp and huff, as if it’s offensive that a charity make more money.
“One ten!” Robert bellows, putting his hand on hips wide hips, completely convinced that he’s just shown me who’s boss.
“Two fifty,” I shout.
“How dare you!” Robert seethes before Lydia can smack him in the gut because the whole room just heard him chastise someone for donating money to kids with cancer.
“I can do this all night, old man. How deep are those print media pockets these days?” I bait the two most awful people in this room. I probably shouldn’t have sunk to his level, using money to make a point, but it’s for two good causes: kids and the girl clinging to me who he’s humiliated for the last goddamn time.
Mallory snorts as Robert and Lydia’s mouths drop open and the room snickers and whispers behind us. Lydia looks around, horrified, then scurries out of the crowd like the shameful excuse for a human she is.
“Sold!” The auctioneer announces over the microphone. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars of state of the art medical equipment to treat children afflicted with cancer here in New York City! Your name, good sir?”
“Mallory Mitchell and Lennox Gibbes,” I reply.
The other attendees clap, a few random strangers pat me on the back, which I actually do not appreciate, but then the auction moves onto the next item. “Take me home, Mr. Gibbes,” Mallory wraps her hands around my neck and presses her tits into my chest.
“I thought you’d never ask, hot nanny.”
I lead us out of the crowd of people at the stage and toward the exit when Robert rears his ugly head again. This guy’s like a bad case of herpes, there’s no getting rid of him. “You’ve gone too far this time, Mallory! Too far! You are dead to me! Dead!”
“Dad?” Mallory turns to him and slurs slowly. “Gooooo. Fuck yourself.”
I can’t help but crack up laughing, Mallory swaying like a drunk person and telling her old man off in the middle of this black tie affair filled with New York’s elite. A hundred people must have heard her.
Robert storms off and Mallory calls to me, way too loudly for present company, “Lennox, take me home and do those filthy things to me you said in German!”
“Now who needs a nanny?” I laugh and wrap my arm around her to support her as I walk, and she stumbles, out the door as our limo is pulled around.
“Four Seasons, Central Park,” I tell the driver and then push the button to close the divider window.
Before the window is even fully closed, Mallory’s straddled my lap in the back of the limo and my hands are finally inside the slit in her dress running up her warm thighs and over her smooth ass. “Where are your panties, Mallory?” I growl as she attacks my neck.
“Must have forgotten them,” she says in between breaths before she grabs my face and smashes her lips against mine. She tastes like sweet champagne and I need to know what the rest of her tastes like.
With a hand underneath her, I flip her over and lay her down on the back seat. She whimpers and pushes her hips up to mine as I start my descent down from her neck, over the soft swells of her breasts, over her hard nipples. I’m almost to her belly button, kissing and licking through her dress when her hand in my hair goes limp.
I look up and her eyes are closed, her head turned to the side. Out cold.
This can’t be happening, this is a new low in my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been rejected. Certainly, no woman has ever fallen the hell asleep on me before. This nanny is going to be the bloody death of me.
Fifteen
“Oh, it’s quite clear you’re no romantic. Take my hand and we can run, into every setting sun. I’m getting closer, closer, closer to me.” - Sea Girls - Closer
Mallory
I’m floating on light, fluffy clouds. Warmth radiates around me. I stretch my toes and crisp, luxurious cotton slides against my calves. A thick down pillow cradles my head as I keep my eyes closed and wiggle blissfully back into the… hard morning wood pressed into my ass?
My eyes shoot open and that’s when the throbbing at the front of my brain starts. Curtains are cracked on the panoramic floor to ceiling windows in front of me, hints of the New York skyline beyond coming into view as my eyes struggle to focus. Wrapped around my chest, a strong forearm I’ve come to recognize. The heat emanating into my back and soothing my muscles, the scent drifting to my senses, my sort-of boss. The man I was paid to supervise last night.
Except, oh god. I was the one needing supervision. The memories of my father slut-shaming me, my mother’s face fighting the Botox to grimace in my direction all evening, her club friends sneering, it all comes back as the pounding in my head picks up.
On the nightstand is a bottle of Powerade and a travel packet of Advil
. I would smile at the thoughtfulness of the gesture if moving my facial muscles didn’t incite the marching band in my temples. I reach for the bottle and rip open the packet of pain meds, scooting out from under Lennox’s heavy arm just a bit so I can drink. The sheet pulls down and my naked breasts are exposed, a warm beam of sunlight hitting them and dusting the room.
