Page 42 of The Billionaire's One-Night Stand Nanny
“And whose fault is that?” I asked.
“Yours,” she said instantly. “So you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“How?” I asked.My legs were stretched out on top of the sheets, spread slightly. I could think of a few ideas, but I resisted the urge to adjust myself, the bulge in my lounge pants, until I was positive that Flora hadn’t just called to chat.
“Well,” she said, “you read it, didn’t you?”
I had. I’d skimmed through the book at first, a smile on my face, as I sipped my coffee, but then–
…she sighed as her fingers slipped over her burning center, her silk nightgown feeling coarse against her sensitive skin…
This was what Flora was reading at home, thinking of me. The thought had gripped me, and I’d spent the last five minutes of my commute–and another five minutes idling in front of the building–trying to will down my rock-hard cock, trying not to think of silk nightgowns or burning centers or hair loosed from plaits…
“You’ll have to tell me what happened,” she breathed over the phone line.
Fuck.My hand was on my cock without me even realizing it, squeezing it once just to relieve the pressure of not being touched. When I left her that page, I’d thought of her reading it to herself, late at night and alone. Would she blush, knowing I’d read the same words? Would it get her off? Would she touch herself, imagining it was me?
But in none of the scenarios I’d imagined had I been there, in her ear, with her.
I’d underestimated her.
Again.
“Ryan?” she asked, sounding hesitant. Nervous.
“She was in bed,” I said quickly. “The heroine.”
“Lady Louisa,” she said, and I nodded.
“Lady Louisa. She was in bed, after a… a ball, I think. I don’t know, I didn’t read that part.”
“You skipped to the steamy parts?” she scolded. “You won’t get the full effect that way.”
I was pretty sure I’d gotten the full effect, and I told her so.
“Yeah?” she asked. I could hear the soft swish of blankets in the background. Was she settling back against her pillows? Tucking herself under the covers? “Did it make you hard, Ryan?”
Holy hell.
“Lady Louisa, in her nightgown?” she asked. “That really does it for you?” I could hear her teasing smile, her glinting blue eyes.
“No,” I answered. “Not Lady Louisa…you.” Her breath caught. “I was thinking ofyou.”
There was a moment’s pause during which I held my breath, waiting for her to shy away, to saywe shouldn’t do this. I was her boss, and she was my daughter’s nanny; I was too old for her. It was too much.
“Tell me,” she said at last. “What happened next?”
“She was in bed,” I said. “Lady Louisa, in her nightgown. And–she was thinking of the guy.”
“Theguy,” she echoed, laughing softly. “Sure, go ahead.”
“They’d been dancing,” I said, and suddenly, I wanted to dance with Flora. I’d seenPride and Prejudicewith Maddie–she’d liked the costumes but hadn’t really been interested in the story–and the dancing they did looked complicated and confusing. But to hold Flora against me, to sway with her, my hand on her lower back, her perfect breasts pushed against my chest, her arm around my neck as we looked into each other’s eyes… “They’d been dancing together, and she was thinking about the way he looked at her.”
“As if she was the only woman in the room,” she said.
“As if he wanted to undress her,” I corrected.
“She’s undressed now.”
