Page 48 of Fifth Avenue Fling

Up close, her emerald eyes sear into mine. I have a vivid thought of what it would look like to have her gazing up at me while she takes my cock into her mouth.

Her eyes widen as I let out a frustrated growl.

What the fuck am I doing?

I step back. “Clock off. You’re done for the night.”

TWELVE

Clodagh

I stare up at the ceiling. What about knowing you have to go to sleep makes your body do the opposite?

Day four of being a professional nanny maid. I won’t win Domestic Assistant of the Year, but for some reason, he hasn’t fired me despite his threats.

Yet.

I hate cleaning. It’s fucking shite. Guest rooms get cleaned every other day. Killian’s and Teagan’s bedrooms are cleaned daily. It’s a never-ending cycle of domesticated torture. Bathrooms must be clean enough to eat dinner from the sink. Mrs. Dalton didn’t say that, but I got the message from all the underlined words.

Still, I can’t complain. I’m cleaning Fifth Avenue toilets.

Then there are the blunt text messages from Quinn. Three yesterday and five today—with ambiguous instructions to run errands for him.

I feel like I’m constantly in trouble.

His voice repeats in my head from Monday night.Lie to me again, and I will personally put you on the next plane back to Ireland, sweetheart.

God, he was threatening deportation, but it sounded so sexual. I felt the heat radiating from his body. It was… terrifying.

Since then, the closest I get to communication is one-word answers or grunts, or he just ignores me entirely. I want to scream at him, ‘can’t you see I’m trying, mister!’Every time Quinn enters the kitchen, every hair on my body stands on end.

Teagan gives me whiplash. Ninety percent of the time, she is sullen and snarky with me, and the other ten percent, she is delightful. But she thinks she can take me for a fool. Tonight, she tried to convince me that the video of baby goats was related to her homework.

I get more answers from the manual than those two.

I wonder if Quinn is asleep upstairs. What does he think about before he falls asleep? Probably his billions. I can’t imagine him having actualfeelingsfor anyone. Anyone other than Teagan, that is.

God, when he smiles at her like that, I’m at risk of melting into a puddle. I don’t want kids yet, but I know that’s how you want your guy to look at your babies.

I slide my hands down my stomach and into my pants. He doesn’t deserve to be fantasized over, but thinking about my boss before bedtime has become my dirty pleasure.

I close my eyes and part my thighs wider, imagining his fingers circling my clit. Imagining his large hands controlling my pleasure, making me pulse and tingle as he sinks his fingers into me again and again.

Imagining his mouth hungrily replacing his fingers…

Imagining him staring up at me with hooded eyes, those icy-cold blue eyes full of fire… his deep hoarse voice rasping with emotion for me… the weight of his thick muscular thighs on top of me as his big, hard cock fills me up…

Imagining he’s so turned on by my pleasure, he’ll explode if he doesn’t fuck me.

Yes… yes…

No. No.

It’s no use.

I need something stronger than my imagination. With a frustrated breath, I reach over to open the bedside table.

If Quinn ever looks intomybedside table drawer, he’d be in for a shock when he finds a beast the size of a foot-long subway.

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