Page 80 of The Au Pair Affair

“I’ve lost a step. It’s common knowledge.”

“Well maybe you had a couple steps to spare!” she sputtered.

His heart pumped in a drawn-out beat. “What?”

“Maybe now everyone is a little closer to your level, but they’re not on it.” She was rubbing his shoulders almost angrily now. “Like I said, I might not be a sports enthusiast, especially when the sweatshirts are seventy-five dollars, but I have eyes.”

Maybe you had a couple steps to spare.

No amount of personal pep talks or coaching had given him as much insight into how his own brain worked as those eight off-the-cuff words. Because that not only made total sense to him, it was the one thing that made him feel... relaxed. Like maybe there wasn’t a guillotine waiting above his neck, poised to fall. For the first time, he wondered if maybe... he was being too hard on himself—and that was difficult to admit, because he made a living being hard on himself.

Right. That’s how he’d succeeded.

“Thank you. For saying that. But...” He gave a concise headshake. “I’m not going to start taking it easy on myself now, Tallulah.”

Again, her hands suspended in their treatment of his back.

Then they left him completely.

Goddammit, he’d spoken too harshly. Cut her off at the knees when she was just trying to help. What was wrong with him? He was in the act of formulating an apology when Tallulah slipped off the bed to his right, paused a moment, then slowly moved to stand in front of him.Close.Right there, in between his outstretched thighs.

He stopped breathing.

“Maybe if you won’t take it easy on yourself, you need someone to do it for you.”

Off came the sweatshirt.

Time stood fucking still as he registered the sight of her innothing but a pair of black silky panties. As in, not a bra in sight. And he’d been more than aware that his au pair was hot as sin. Tallulah, though? The word “hot” didn’t begin to do justice to a body that could spoil a man fucking rotten. There wasn’t a dude alive that had done enough good in his lifetime to deserve the chance to touch her, but he’d make up for this shortage of goodwill later, because he was too busy staring at her sexy tits, all golden and sweet, like they wanted a bite taken out of them. It was almost painful to tear his attention away from them to memorize the rest of her, the nip of her waist, the flare of her hips and the snug fit of her underwear. Thosethighs.

God, he wanted to be pumping his cock between them.

“You want to take it easy on me?” he hooked a finger in her panties and drew her closer. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t want to take it easy on you at all.”

Tallulah’s stomach hollowed on an intake of breath, her nipples turning to stiff buds right there in front of his eyes. He held his breath as her hands lifted...

And she slowly plowed all ten fingers through his hair.

That scrape of her nails on his scalp was better than any orgasm he’d had in recent memory. In need of an anchor, his hands gripped her hips and yanked her closer, his mouth releasing a shaky exhale between her tits.

“Why do you doubt yourself?” she asked, rubbing leisurely circles onto his head.

“I don’t know, I...” Her smooth, warm skin that smelled like oranges and basil. His tongue licked out involuntarily, wanting to taste those ingredients, whatever components made her up, made her this perfect, but mostly, that lick clued him in to how hard her heart was pounding. As hard as his own. Holy shit. “The divorce made me realize how flawed I am. It also made me realize how quickly the things I rely on can... go away. So I held on tighter to hockey, but the look in themirror has me noticing flaws everywhere. On the ice. Off. I’m constantly looking for signs that my career is over.”

“It’s not.” Her thumbs traced the shells of his ears, massaging the lobes, and he wondered how long he could survive her touch without melting like hot candlewax. “And everyone has flaws, but they’re outweighed by your strengths. Your many...” She tugged his hair slowly. “Wonderful.” She wound the strands around her fingers, turning him to fucking putty in her hands. “Strengths.”

“Thank you,” he said, more than a little shaken.

“You’re welcome,” she murmured back, their eye contact making his throat ache.

What is this happening between us?

Burgess was burning to ask. To demand.

But he was starved. Fuckingstarved. And if she ran away right now, he’d collapse under the weight of unsatisfied hunger. So instead, even though it ate him up inside, he asked, “What do you want from me tonight, gorgeous?”

Those nails scraped him again and his vision wavered, pleasure stiffening the muscles of his abdomen, the sac between his legs growing unbearably heavy. Then she leaned down and kissed him without any restraint, her mouth open and wet, moving over his in a way that made his hand itch to reach beneath his towel. To choke his cock in a tight grip and stroke one out with her delicious mouth as inspiration.

They broke for air, both panting, his palms tracing the valleys of her sides eagerly, moving inward to knead her firm tits. Their foreheads met, eyes searching and his were no doubt swimming with lust, because that’s what dominated him. Painful, sharp-toothed lust. And fuck it, maybe some vulnerability, thanks to him being totally and completely overwhelmed by the fact that this woman thought he was still great, couldn’t take her eyes off him, touched him like he didn’t need a single improvement.

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