Nanny Wanted (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Mia Carson

  She shot off the bed as a scream escaped her lips. As pleasure consumed her, she squirmed to move away from him and closer at the same time, torn between wanting more and unable to handle more of his touch. As the aftershocks of the orgasm still tingled through her body, he rolled them over again so she straddled him. Her mouth fell open on a silent cry as he filled her.

  With each shift of her hips, his eyes darkened and a look Remy could only describe as love filled those blue irises. It was insane to even think love could be on the table so soon, but the possibility of it surrounded her, cradling her in its warmth. Her hips moved at a steady and firm pace, driving her closer to another explosive orgasm as his breathing increased.

  “Stan?” she whispered.

  He paused, worry clouding his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong I just… this is so perfect and you and me…” she mumbled, not sure what she was saying. His soft smile told her he already knew, and he sat up against her, bringing his mouth to hers. The kiss deepened, their tongues desperate to explore each other’s mouths as his hips moved as much as they could. She leaned back, deepening the angle of his thrusts, and they groaned together.

  He wrapped his arms firmly around her as if to say he would never let her go. Remy didn’t want him to. She never wanted to leave this house, this life. Whatever drove her to be there with him, she didn’t care anymore. She was there and being with Stan was all that mattered.

  She dragged her nails down his back as he thrust hard, and she cried out against his mouth. Her legs shook, holding him inside her as his grunt turned into a bellow, spilling into her a second time. It warmed her from her toes to the top of her head, and as they sank to the bed in a sweating, tangled mess of limbs, she smiled as he snuggled closer, slipping from her sheath but keeping her close to his chest.

  “Remy…” he started but cursed and rolled over onto his back.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry for being an ass,” he muttered, and she giggled. “I’m trying to apologize and you’re laughing.”

  “I wasn’t much better,” she pointed out. “And you’re probably going to hate me for what I say next, but I’m putting my foot down so you have to deal with it.”

  “Oh?” His narrowed eyes considered her suspiciously. “And what am I going to have to deal with?”

  She laid across his body and kissed him. “You’re starting your physical therapy again, and I’ve called that therapist Theresa recommended. It’s time you talk about this to someone.” His lips thinned in annoyance and he grunted. “It’s not just you anymore. You have Louis to think about. You can’t have a blow up with him like you do with me,” she insisted firmly. “He’s been through enough, and you owe it to yourself—to both of you—to get yourself healthy in all regards.”

  He closed his eyes and blew out a deep breath. “You’re right, I guess.”

  “You guess?’

  He ran his fingers across her jawline. “What about you?”

  “I’m not the one who needs therapy.”

  “Maybe not as much as I do, I’ll admit, but we both need to agree to not hide anything anymore. If I’m going to talk to some quack, then you have to agree to talk to me, Remy—about everything, even the little shit.”

  It was her turn to huff and bury her face against his chest. “Do I have to?”

  “Do you want me to do therapy?”

  “Yes,” she muttered.

  “Then consider me your therapist.”

  She barked a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Not even close. Deal?” He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it.

  She scrunched her mouth to the side, but she didn’t see a way out of this. She already knew she could talk to Stan about almost anything, but she worried that certain issues would make him think she didn’t want to be there with him. Her fluttering heart told her she was definitely falling for this man. Doubts popped up in her mind, one after the other, that after he worked through his issues, he would realize he didn’t need her like he thought he did. He might not want her around to mess things up with his son.

  “Remy?”

  “All right,” she agreed and shook his hand. “Does my therapy start right now?”

  He gave her a wolfish grin. “Your physical therapy, maybe,” he growled and drew her over his body, kissing her passionately. She glanced at the clock and settled into his arms. They had a few more hours of alone time, and this was the perfect way to spend it.

  13

  At first, when the therapist, Wendall Price, arrived at the house for the initial sit-down with only him, Stan had second-guessed his decision to agree to this. But as the hour ticked by and he found himself talking openly about the accident and the guilt he carried from it, he actually liked Dr. Price. The man was down-to-earth and encouraged Stan to show his feelings more towards his son and everyone else he cared for in his life. During the second meeting, still one-on-one, Stan felt tears streaming down his cheeks as he let everything out. Afterwards, he tracked Remy down, and they disappeared into his bedroom for the two hours before Louis needed to be picked up from school.

  They didn’t simply have sex that day. They made love, and the passion flowing from every touch she gave him in return showed him that what blossomed between them was real for her, too. He still couldn’t get all the words out he wanted to say, but he prayed she would understand from his kisses.

  August faded into September, and by the time October arrived and Remy had decorated the house for Halloween, Stan had been in physical therapy for two months. Louis joined Stan for their once-a-week home meetings with Dr. Price. During the first meeting, Stan learned how alike he and Louis were and how much the boy bottled up inside. By the end of the first session, he hugged Louis close as his son cried about his mom and missing out on all the time he could’ve had with Stan. He was amazed to learn Louis was actually angry with Lara for never telling Stan he had a son. The breakthroughs they both made at communicating with each other and beginning the long path to overcoming their issues was astounding.

  Halloween grew closer, and Stan spent five days a week with his physical therapist, Bert. Stan wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but Bert pushed him hard. No matter how much he cursed and sputtered about the pain, his physical therapist told him to work through it. Remy was usually present during these sessions to encourage him—or yell at him, depending on his temperament.

  It was on such a day, when Remy was busy in her studio and Louis was at school, that Stan managed to walk around the entire first floor of the house using a cane.

  “Well now, look at you go, speedster,” Bert teased.

  “Not too shabby for taking a few months off from rehab,” Stan agreed.

  “How are your legs? Pain?”

  “Tolerable. More than tolerable, actually,” he admitted, amazed at how great he felt standing on his own two feet. He held the cane out to Bert and staggered forward the full length of the room and back before collapsing against the kitchen counter. “Damn it.”

  Bert handed back his cane. “Don’t push yourself too hard. You’ll damage your legs.”

  “I want it to be like old times, that’s all.”

  “You’ll get there,” Bert insisted. “Patience—patience and hard work.” He checked his watch. “Well then, I’m off. See you Monday.”

  “You mean see you in November,” Stan corrected. “I think I’m going trick or treating this Sunday.”

  Bert grinned. “I think finding out you had a son was the best thing for you,” he said then turned when Remy strolled into the kitchen, smiling at the sight of Stan standing. “Well, one of the best things. Later all!”

  “Bye, Bert!” Remy called out and hurried to Stan’s side. “You’re walking!”

  He threw back his shoulders with pride. “With a cane, but yes, I’m walking.”

  She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. “Told you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll find a way to
thank you later…or right now.”

  Though he couldn’t yet pick her up and carry her like he wanted, he kissed her as he guided her down the hallway towards his bedroom. She tugged on his shirt-front, dragging him into her studio instead.

  “I want you to see something,” she whispered against his lips and stepped aside.

  His eyes took in the newer paintings leaning against the walls, filled with vibrant oranges and hues of reds and yellows, representing the surrounding landscape of the house. He smiled at such warmth and color showing through her work, but it was the piece at the back of her studio he was drawn to.

  “This is what you’ve been working on?” he asked on a breath, stepping closer and reaching out a hand to trace the wires delicately. “Remy.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “What? No, no—it’s incredible.” No other word could describe it, and what he said barely did the piece justice. It left him speechless. The beauty of the two figures taking shape from the wires, the love in their embrace, was palpable, and he felt as if he could disappear into it if he stared any longer.

  “I still need to finish the wings and the rest of the hands, but it’s getting there.”

  He nodded as he leaned his cane to the side and faced her. The same love he sensed from the wire sculpture was reflected clearly in her eyes, and it touched that burning ember deep within Stan. For the past two months, they’d found solace in each other, spending as much time as they could wrapped up in each other’s arms and their evenings talking about their lives. He wanted to tell her so many times what he truly felt, what he wanted, but every time, fear got the better of him that she would reject him after everything they’d been through. Even when he thought they were on the same page, he sensed uncertainty from Remy. She would come to understand what he did in time, and pushing her would do nothing except place pressure on her to make a decision.

  For now, Stan would continue to explain to her the only way he could what was in his heart. His fingers laced through hers as his other hand pushed up through her hair and freed it from the loose braid. She sighed, closing her eyes as his lips met hers.

  Sex with Remy was anything but boring, and it was never just about the lust either. He became lost in her sweet touches, the sounds of her moans, and her breathing against his ear. Their clothes fell to the floor at their feet, and he sank to his knees before her as she leaned against the worktable. He spread her thighs, shifting her feet far enough apart so his fingers could slide along her cleft already crying for his touch. His tongue flicked out, and the sweet, salty taste of her brought his cock to immediate attention. With the strength returning to his legs, at least enough, he hoped to manage a few more enticing positions; he was ready to show her what he could do with her body in and out of bed. He plunged his tongue within her depths, not relenting even when she squirmed against him, riding his mouth as her back arched back against the table. He sucked her clit hard, rolling the nub against his tongue and drinking her in. She was the reason he found the strength to push through his rehab every day. Her smile, her laughter, even her darkness… all supported him. She was his world now, her and a son he never knew he wanted.

  Her knees gave out as a cry ripped free from her mouth. He caught her and kissed a path from her clit to her stomach, then higher, pausing to tend to each perky nipple. He lathered them as she grabbed his hips and his cock found its home between her thighs, rubbing against her wetness. He wanted to bury himself inside her, so he broke the kiss and turned her around, holding her breasts firmly in his hands as he nuzzled her neck and bent her over the table.

  “Wait, are you sure? Your legs?”

  He smirked. “Haven’t felt a twinge of pain since I walked in here to be with you,” he promised her. “And worst case scenario, we fall to the floor and finish there.”

  She shivered as he angled himself and with one push, found her ready for him. He thrust all the way home, and they both shuddered at the deep connection.

  He held onto her hips as he moved within her, kissing her shoulders. When she shook her hair out, leaning her head back, he wrapped the locks around his hand. She turned her head enough so he caught her wink, and his eyes rolled back as what she wanted him to do hit him. He tugged on her hair, thrusting even deeper, and she moaned with pleasure. Her inner muscles clenched hard, holding him longer each time.

  “You are going to be the death of me,” he groaned.

  “Right back at ya,” she murmured right before he let loose completely and thrust until he spilled into her fiercely, his yell of release mingling with her cries before his chest fell against her back, his legs shaking, not that he cared. “I’m going to get spoiled with these afternoon romps.”

  “Good. I like you being spoiled.”

  He kissed each vertebra down her back as he slipped free. His cock throbbed, wanting more, but his legs trembled and he reached for his cane. Remy scooped up their clothes and let him lean on her as they walked together, naked through the house, as casually as if they were strolling in the park. When they reached the bathroom, he dragged her with him into the shower. In there, he could sit on the bench, which led to another bout of her straddling him and making another mess.

  As they panted for breath, he nearly asked her to stay with him forever, to move in and stop being the nanny but officially be his girlfriend instead. The words were on the tip of his tongue when the alarm on his cell went off.

  “I hate to cut our afternoon short,” he grumbled, “but I have to get Louis.”

  “I know.” She kissed the tip of his nose and stepped off his lap, turning around to shower, but he caught the hint of doubt flickering in her eyes again. “Tomorrow, do you mind if I take the day to spend with my friend? She’s been begging me for lunch for days.”

  “Sure. Louis and I will go to the zoo and make a day of it,” he said, wishing he had the balls to say what he wanted.

  “Great! Bring me home a stuffed animal,” she said with a wink before stepping out of the shower. “I love bears.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He finished showering, dried off, and dragged his clothes back on. Remy handed him his cane and walked him to the front door where the car waited as it did every day to take him to the school. He planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, his chest swelling with love when she smiled and leaned into him.

  “Be back soon.”

  “I’ll be ready for you both.” She grinned and waved until he was in the car and down the drive.

  Stan tapped his fingers against his thighs the entire drive to the school. He needed to tell Remy the truth soon. Even Dr. Price had brought it up once or twice when Louis wasn’t there. Keeping this much emotion bottled up wasn’t good, no matter how positive the emotions were. If only Remy and his future were certain, he would be more than happy to spill his guts to her.

  Remy tugged her sweater tighter around her shoulders as she and Callie walked around the art festival. Several pieces called to her that she was interested in buying for the house, masterful pieces of ships she knew Louis would love. Even some metalwork pieces would work really well in Stan’s gardens now that they brimmed with life again.

  “You slept with him, didn’t you?” Callie stated suddenly.

  Remy whipped around to stare at her. “What? I never said that.”

  “You don’t have to. I can see it all over your face. Damn, girl, please tell me you did it once and that’s the end of it?”

  “Sure, only once,” Remy mumbled as her mind flashed to images of yesterday afternoon in her studio and again in the shower.

  They had even risked it this morning. She woke early, unable to sleep with the aching need of Stan, driving her to knock on his door. He’d rolled over with a smirk and lifted the blankets for her to slip into bed beside him. They managed to stay quiet so they didn’t wake Louis, but she was nearly caught sneaking out of his room.

  “You’re such a liar! Oh, my God, Remy, what the hell is wrong with you?” Callie grabbed
her arm and dragged her off the main path behind one of the booths set up. “You realize how much you’re screwing yourself here?”

  “By doing what? So we’re having a bit of a relationship. We’re adults,” Remy shot back hotly. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Has he said anything to you about what’s going to happen later on?”

  “What do you mean? Later on what?”

  “You’re the nanny right now because he needs you to be the nanny. What happens when he and his son no longer need you around?” Callie asked. “Has he talked to Louis about having a girlfriend or what it might mean to them both?”

  “Well, no, but they’ve been busy working on their relationship,” Remy explained and even to her ears, she sounded worried. “We haven’t gotten around to it yet, but we will in time.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know, all right? Jesus!”

  She paced away from her friend, running her hands over her head as she thought about the last few weeks and how close they’d become. But never during any of their late-night talks did he bring up what would happen once the six-month trial was over for him and Louis. Theresa told Remy several times they had nothing to worry about. Louis was obviously happy and well taken care of. There were days Stan didn’t even need Remy to take him to school or pick him up. He even started cooking dinner now that he could stand for short periods of time.

  Remy’s hands fell to her sides as he realized her friend was right. Soon, Stan would realize he no longer needed her as a nanny. Would he risk his fragile relationship with his son by bringing Remy permanently into his life as his girlfriend?

  “Remy? You okay?” Callie asked softly, reaching out for her, but Remy stepped away.

  “No—no, I’m not. I’ll see you later,” she snapped and stormed off into the crowd.