Page 131 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“You might notice that I’m not wearing any underwear,” she supplied, reading his mind.
Might notice?
His rock-hard cock twitched in his track shorts. “Yeah, I’m noticing. I’m doing quite a bit of noticing.”
She pulled back to meet his gaze. “In this position,” she said, her voice growing breathy, “our focus narrows as our alertness increases.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more alert than I am right now, plum,” he confessed.
“Good, you’ll feel the shift as our chakras align.”
“Do my chakras seem okay? They’re not tiny, are they?” he bit out, recalling the sassy barb she threw at Silas Scott.
She swiveled her hips and bit her lip. “Your chakras align with mine perfectly.”
They moved together, rocking slowly, so slowly.
“You may experience some tingling,” she added, followed by a dirty little moan.
“Yeah, I’m getting that,” he replied as she arched into him.
With their breath and heartbeat in sync, a flood of words came to him, and he couldn’t hold back.
“I don’t think it’s any secret that I want you. But the more I want you, plum,” he began, sliding his hands beneath her shorts, “the more beefcakey I seem to become. I act like an arrogant prick, and I don’t want to be like that to you. I want you, Libby Lamb. I know I should fight this impulse. But I can’t. You don’t do relationships. I get it. I don’t do them either. But I need you. Can I have you, for now, here in this crazy donkey town?” He grimaced. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”
She cupped his face in her hand. “It came from your heart. And I agree with you. There’s an attraction between us that can’t be denied, and—” She dropped her gaze.
“And?” he gasped, praying she’d agree.
She returned her focus to him. “And we did commit to following the like cures like program to remedy my lopsided chi. We also agreed to the exercises and benchmarks regarding the loss of my O,” she said, making slow, grinding circles with her hips.
“Yep, I remember,” he answered as the friction between them nearly drove him mad.
She closed her eyes and hummed a sexy little sound. “And we’ve made progress in assigning a benchmark test subject.”
She was damn good at sounding smart. It took everything he had to not flip her onto her back, drive his cock inside her, and screw her brains out in this pile of violet and blue with birdie figurines watching.
He stilled as his last two working brain cells pieced together what she’d said.
“What’s a benchmark test subject?” he got out. It was a miracle he could still speak.
“Doug.”
“Doug?” he repeated—thanks to the dwindling blood supply.
“Yes, Doug appears amicable to spending time with me and would be an appropriate final benchmark subject. And until the race, we could gather more data on the like cures like method and call everything you and I do up until that point spiritual development.”
He liked the sound of gathering more data. Even in his state, he understood that meant sex. What he didn’t like was the thought of the Zen douche donkey whisperer touching Libby.
“How about this,” he posited, his words taking on a possessive bend. “We put the final benchmark in the hands of the universe.”
Look at that. He could sound yoga-smart, too, when properly motivated.
“What are you proposing?” she asked, rolling her hips.
Focus, man.
“If Doug beats me in the Ass-in-Nine race, we follow the benchmark plan and treat him as a test subject. But if I win, Dougie is out. You don’t let him lay a finger on you,” he growled, the beast emerging.
