Page 60 of The Billionaire's One-Night Stand Nanny
Then I heard her quiet giggle, and my eyes popped open.
“Kick him in the balls?” she asked, biting her lower lip to contain her smile.
“I did it when we were twelve,” I said and grimaced. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Laughter burst out of her. Relief and confusion spread warm through my veins as I realized she wasn’t furious. I didn’t understand it, but…
Hope knocked the breath from me like a punch in the chest. I had planned to ask her later. Eight days. Seven, now, I guessed. But now, those days seemed interminable. Charlie knew; there was no taking that back. What if James found out? Barrett? Edie?
Maddie?
Could her reaction mean that she was ready for the secret to be out?
She smiled up at me.Say it, I urged her.Say it.
Well, what exciting plans do you have for telling the rest of them?I could see her teasing me about it, could practically hear the words.
Instead, when she opened her mouth, the words that came out were, “Kick him in the balls.”
I laughed.
“It’s cute.” She shrugged. “You’re usually, I don’t know, Dad Ryan, or Businessman Ryan, or…” She blushed, and I filled in the blank. Lover Ryan. Date Night Ryan. Sex Ryan, whatever she wanted to call it. Fuck Her in the Kitchen Ryan. “It’s cute to see you with your friends.” Her expression turned soft and wistful.
Shecouldsee me with my friends. Anytime she wanted.Now, even, or tonight–
“Flora, I–”
“You trust him,” she interrupted, “not to tell anyone? James, and Edie?”
“I do. But–”
“Okay,” she said, with one quick nod of her head. “Then I trust him.”
“Flora, sweetheart,” I said, frowning. The hope that had burst in my chest calcified inside my lungs, making breathing difficult. She shook her head.
“Not now, Ryan,” she said. “Please.” I nodded unsurely as her hands looped around my neck, tugging me down towards her. “What I want right now,” she said, “is a shower.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“With you,” she said.
“Oh,” I said, kissing the corner of her mouth. We could talk about it later.
I lifted her off the counter and onto the floor, where I took her hands in mine and bent down for a kiss that went from soft to passionate. She tasted like coffee and strawberries and waffles and under it all, Flora. My flower. Mine.
CHAPTER28
Flora
Ryan’s hot tongue,his skillful fingers, the low rumbling of his voice murmuring encouragement, the warm water and the cold air of the bathroom, all combined to get me off faster than I’d thought possible given our interruption. And then he did it again, slow and sweet, in his soft, warm bed. I tried not to remember that tonight was the last night we’d spend like this–next weekend I’d be gone–but as my orgasm rolled over me, I was suddenly reminded of another French phrase I knew:la petite mort. The little death.
It certainly felt like dying.
Ryan’s arm curled around my waist, pulling me in closer. The warmth of his body was soothing, lulling me down into half-wakefulness. I struggled against it; I couldn’t fall asleep here. I had to go home.
“Come with me,” he said, just as I was convincing myself toget up. “To the engagement party. I want you there.”
The pain in my chest was unexpectedly sharp, a stabbing, shooting tenderness behind my ribcage. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, feeling my chest expand against the confines of his arm. “I wish you hadn’t asked that,” I said in a whisper.
