Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
WILLA
By the time I’ve finished lunch, I’m wondering where the fuck Shane Miller is.
It’s odd that I haven’t heard from him since he left.
Not that I expect him to check in and tell me that my tits look great every half an hour, but maybe let the nanny know where you are and when you’ll be home so she can tell your kids or their teachers if there’s an emergency?
Or maybe just let her know where you are and when you’ll be home because your big pretty penis was inside her a couple of days ago and that’s just how you maintain a good employer-employee relationship.
And now a sickening feeling settles in my stomach.
I’m imagining the possible reasons why he wouldn’t want me to know where he is or who he’s with.
He could be busy knocking up some other actress he will eventually marry.
It’s happened before! It could very well happen again.
Which is why I need to stand my ground and keep my emotional distance unless he decides to nut up and own his attraction to me.
Realizing I haven’t showered yet today, I go to my room to disrobe.
I tell myself to stop thinking about Shane as soon as the warm water cascades down onto my head.
I wash my hair with shampoo and conditioner that I’ve added drops of my new fragrance to.
It’s a heavenly scent, not overpowering.
And it reminds me of Shane. I pour the shower gel that I added my new fragrance to into the palm of my hand and rub it all over my upper body.
I can no longer touch myself without thinking about Shane Miller and remembering what it was like to have his hands on me, inside me…
Fuck it, I’m going to hate-finger-fuck myself while thinking about him, and then I won’t think about him for the rest of the fucking afternoon.
Before my hands venture between my legs, I hear three firm knocks on the bathroom door. I freeze for a moment, but I know in my heart and in my vulva who it is. Turning to see the door open a crack, I hear Shane’s voice. “It’s me. Are you decent?”
I have to clear my throat to find my voice. “Not even a little bit.”
The door opens all the way, and Shane steps into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. “Good. If you want me to leave, tell me now,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt.
I say nothing as I push open the glass shower door and then step back to let the water run down my back.
My wet, soaped-up naked body is completely exposed to him again.
I absentmindedly touch the little gold heart pendant at my neck, watching this man remove his clothes.
He must have taken a special acting class on how to undress for the camera, and I honestly kind of wish I had a camera with me now so I could record this.
His hungry eyes are fixed on me the entire time.
The expression on his face is so serious and seriously fuckable when he says, “Who’s got two kids, an erection, and just told your brother he’s falling for you?” He lets his boxer briefs fall to the floor and then points to himself with his thumbs. “This naked guy.”
I let go of my necklace and cover my mouth. The rims of my eyes are stinging. I’m so happy I could cry. “Really? You talked to Nico?”
He steps into the shower and pulls the door shut, staring down at my breasts. “You are so fucking beautiful. I just took him to lunch and told him.”
“Oh my God, Shane.” I hold his face and kiss it all over, my erect nipples and this naked guy’s beautiful penis the only thing standing between us now. “How’d he take it?”
“Surprisingly well. Eventually.” Shane’s hands slide up and down my hips and waist. He kisses my neck. Along my jaw. Across my shoulder. “He’ll probably call you later. He told me to treat you right.” He gives both of my ass cheeks a squeeze.
“Oh! I’m quite pleased with how you’re treating me so far.”
He kisses my mouth, so deeply and urgently that I nearly forget how to breathe.
When he finally pulls away to run his fingers through my hair, I gasp for air and say, “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about my brother when we’re both naked.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“But that reminds me—I talked to my Grammie this morning. She says ‘hi.’”
“Be sure to tell me how she’s doing at some point in the near future, when I don’t have a hard-on.”
“If I were you,” I say, my hand slipping down to his very hard cock, “I wouldn’t plan on many points in the near future when you won’t have a hard-on.”
He groans. “I hope you have a simple scientific way of explaining that to five-year-olds.”
“I know exactly what to say to them. ‘Your daddy has a present for me in his pants. Watch Netflix in here while we go in the other room for ten minutes so he can give it to me.’”
“You are—by far—the best nanny anyone has ever had.” He turns me around to face the wall, moves my hair to one side, and buries his face in my neck. “What smells so fucking incredible?”
I grin. “It’s us.”
His dick is pressed up between my ass cheeks, his hands roaming the curves of my hips and up to cup my breasts and tease my nipples. “Your body,” he moans. “This ass. This ass is driving me crazy. Can I buy you dinner later?” His tone is playful, but that erection means business.
“You’ll have to buy me dinner first,” I say, pushing back into him and rolling my hips until he makes a thunderous rumbling sound in his throat and digs his fingernails into my flesh.
Then I turn to face him and push him back against the other tiled wall.
There is only one thing I want right now, oddly enough, and it is basically the opposite of hate-finger-fucking myself.
While kissing and nibbling on his lower lip, I say, “I want you to fist my hair and come in my mouth.”
“Jesus. Willa.”
And then I slowly lower myself to my knees, kissing a wet trail down his torso while watching his head tilt back, his jaw tighten, his Adam’s apple bob up and down.
He finally stops talking.
I feel all ten of his fingers in my hair.
And a couple of minutes later, I get exactly what I want.