Page 58 of The Nanny and the Hothead
But no! This was happening!
She reached between them and took his hard length into her hand. Her touch was velvety soft until she tightened her grip. He gritted his teeth as raw need tore through his body. Slipping his hand between her thighs, he pushed her panties aside and found her wet. The satin of the silky fabric was drenched in her desire. And a rush of carnal victory brought the hint of a grin to his lips.
Christ, it felt good to tear off the mask and let go!
She positioned his cock at her slick entrance as two competing impulses battled within him. He wanted to take it slow, to nip, to bite, and to taste every inch of her body while fighting the growing desire to drive in hard, hold her tight, and piston his hips, faster and faster until he disappeared into their lovemaking and lost himself with each fierce thrust.
“I want you now, Mitch,” Charlotte whispered in a dirty little moan.
A devious smile stretched across his lips.
Hard and fast, it was!
He hadn’t expected her to make the choice for him. He’d expected to be in control. Then again, after the last twenty-four hours, he’d become well acquainted with the fiery, headstrong redhead. The woman could turn up the heat as fast as she could turn on her sweet, demure nanny side. “And I wantitnow,” she finished, in full-on fiery redhead mode.
It was one hell of a turn-on!
“I can do that,” he growled, holding her wrists above her head.
The air inside the tent positively hummed with the heat of their ragged breaths. He slid his cock inside, and her sweet heat threatened to take him over the edge with one damned thrust.
There was no way he’d allow that to happen!
He held back, tightening his hold on her wrists as her body welcomed him, opening and stretching to accommodate his hard length. He closed his eyes and drank in the sensations, not able to understand how something could feel both completely new and utterly familiar. But that’s what this was. He abandoned her wrists and entwined their fingers, holding her hands—no, anchoring himself to her—before pulling back, then driving in hard.
She bucked her hips as they moved together, two becoming one. And he was no longer in control. He wasn’t in charge. He should be terrified, but he wasn’t. Their union drove each kiss, each lick, and each breathy sigh. An understanding that required no words set the pace. He rolled his hips, finding her sweet spot as a coil took shape around them, encircling them, squeezing them tighter and tighter. And she was there, hovering on the edge of ecstasy, her body trembling beneath him. He covered her mouth with his, swallowing her cries of pleasure as they disintegrated into oblivion, awash in a sea of sweet release.
She ran her fingertips along his jawline, breathing hard as they wound down, coming back to their bodies. Neither said a word. They didn’t need to. He lowered his head and kissed the corner of her mouth, and she released a dreamy sigh.
“You’re doing it again,” she whispered into the darkness.
“What’s that?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the opposite corner.
“Grinning,” she answered, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
He was. He couldn’t deny it. “How do you know that I’m smiling? It’s dark,” he countered, twisting a lock of her hair between his fingers.
She traced his lips with the tip of her tongue. A sexy little move that had him ready for round two. “I can feel it when you kiss me,” she breathed against his upturned lips.
Yep, he was smiling like a goddamned fool!
He dipped his head, ready to grin his heart out some more and kiss her until he couldn’t see straight. But he stilled when the creak of the RV door opening stopped him dead in his tracks. Charlotte tensed beneath him. She heard it, too.
“Dad? Charlotte? Are you out here?”
Oscar!
They remained stock-still as the cocoon of darkness gave way to a blast of cold, hard reality. Balls-deep inside of his son’s nanny, he wanted to punch himself square in the jaw.
Shit! What had he done?
That was easy to answer. The nanny! Against knowing better, he’d slept with the nanny.
How could he have allowed himself to slip and screw up so badly? She was dangerous. She made him feel things—the same damn things—that landed him in a world of shit seven years ago. Hastily, he pulled out, and with clumsy hands, he zipped up his pants as Charlotte adjusted her skirt. The two of them scrambled to get themselves presentable andnotappear like a pair of raging hornballs, who’d knocked out one hell of a quickie.
“We’re here, Oscar,” Charlotte called as she fixed her ponytail. “We’re taking down the tent. Why don’t you head back inside the RV? We’ll be right in. We’re almost done.”
They were done all right. They had to be!
