Page 67 of Fifth Avenue Fling

Killian

My jaw hits the marble-tiled floor.

“Clodagh?”

I don’t know why it’s a fucking question. Maybe it’s to check if my brain is short-circuiting or if Clodagh really is sprawled naked in the tub.

“What the hell are you doing?” I growl, breathing hard.

She stares up at me, her face flushed. “I’m having a bath.”

My entire bodystiffensin response. Halfofme, the gentleman, is flustered, whilethe other half, the primitive caveman, is very fucking aroused at the sight of the pint-sized tattooed little vixen.

I try not to look at the water droplets trickling down her breasts. I try not to imagine biting and sucking on her hardening pink nipples as my hands run down her body to explore her sweet pussy.

What the fuck is she doing?

I would have noticed the bathroom door open, which means…

“You’ve been here this whole time?” I ask, trying to keep my gaze averted. “Let me get this straight. You werehaving a bathwhen I was taking a shower?”

“I couldn’t find a good time to tell you I was here,” she says in a strangled voice. “Iplannedtowaituntilyoufinished,thenleave.”

Jesus Christ. She saw me pleasuring myself in the shower.

Arousal surges through me as my eyes slide back to her. All I want to do is make a reckless mistake, climb into the bath on top of her, and lick those water droplets off her creamy skin.

She rises to a sitting position, making sure her legs remain close together, and quickly moves her red hair to cover her exposed chest. “In my defense, I was here first.”

I glare at her in warning.

My cock swells again, heavy and thick from the naked nanny in my bathtub. In my shock at seeing her naked, I’d forgotten I’m naked myself.

“Put on your damn clothes,” I growl through clenched teeth, still half convinced I’m dreaming. “I’m late. We’ll have a meeting about this when I get home tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” she replies in a whisper.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and then storm out of the bathroom. It’s only then that I realize I’ve left my phone on the shower rack.

I’m heading for a goddamn lawsuit.

***

“Clodagh?” I shout, sliding the patio door shut. She’s nowhere on the first floor, and she’s late for our meeting. If she’s trying to provoke me further, it has the desired effect.

I came home early to deal with our little awkward situation before Teagan arrived home from school.

Now she’s not even here at the time I specified. My jaw clenches.

This afternoon was a write-off. I had lunch with a beautiful, intelligent woman, and all I could think about was Clodagh in the bathtub. I had to tell Maria that I was distracted by work.

I head for the stairs leading down to her studio apartment.

My nostrils flare when I hear a man’s voice from inside.

I knock hard on the door, and Clodagh answers.

“Killian.” Her gaze shifts quickly to the wall clock, and she takes in a sharp breath. The T-shirt she’s wearing slips off one of her shoulders. “Sorry. I lost track of time. I’ll be right up.”

---