by Jess Bentley
“So, can you take care of the nanny?”
He’s not looking at me, so I’m not entirely sure what the hell he is talking about.
“Nanny?” I repeat.
“She should be here around eleven. I told her to just come up here. I hope that’s okay. So you have, like, ten minutes.”
“Wait, are you fucking kidding me?”
I jump off the elliptical, and the foot pads keep circling from the momentum for a couple of seconds as though there’s a ghost on the machine.
“Yeah, August vouched for her. She’s cool. She’s just here to do interviews.”
I look at myself again in the mirror. I can’t interview anybody right now. I look like a gym rat with this sweat staining my shirt in a V. But even that is beside the point.
“It’s great that August vouched for her… but I thought we were done with this. Aren’t we? Didn’t we all decide to be done with this?”
“No, we didn’t. The last real decision we made—you made—was that we couldn’t all be taking on girlfriends and wives and diluting the family name. The legacy. Right? Isn’t that what you told us?”
I wave the air dismissively. I don’t like his tone.
“We can talk about it again. We can come up with a new arrangement, bring it to a vote. I don’t feel comfortable deciding this on the fly.”
“You’re not deciding on the fly,” he insists. “You’re just staying the course. We’re just trying again.”
I scrub my hand over my face. “Well, maybe Nina was a lesson we need to take to heart. Maybe mother and lover is too much to ask of one woman. Know what I mean? We should consider that a possibility.”
Sully shrugs helplessly. “We’ve got to have a nanny, Royce. We don’t have a lot of other options.”
“We do have options!” I object, and come to think of it, I don’t like my tone either. I sound too desperate, too emotional.
“Like what?” he asks.
“Well. We could get, like, three women to take shifts?” I suggest off the cuff. “Maybe grandmothers from Argentina or something. The little sprout will grow up speaking two or three languages anyway right? That’s the way to go.”
He’s avoiding me, I can tell. I walk around to the front of him to force him to make eye contact with me. The big, sad giant. He looks like a cartoon.
“That’s not the best thing for the baby and you know it. One woman. Somebody she can rely on. Someone Sophia can really get to know. Not just shift workers, Royce. Not just glorified housekeepers. A mother.”
For all his size and impressive demeanor, Sully is a real softy. Tenderhearted. That’s why I can’t believe he would want to go through all this again.
“But think of what happened with Nina, Sully. Think about what we all went through, would you? And there’s always the chance she’s going to come back—”
“—She’s not coming back.”
He might as well have closed a door when he said that. It seems so final. I can’t help but wince. It’s hard to think about.
Nina had Sophia with us… with all of us. We searched a long time for her, to try to find someone who would agree to our special proclivities. We needed someone who would agree that an heir for the Worth hotel fortune was a good move. That being the mother of that heir was a really good move.
We offered her everything. Ridiculous amounts of wealth. Even a nanny of her very own to help out with Sophia’s day-to-day needs. Drivers. Cooks. And probably way too much love.
I suppose a stable of five billionaire brothers just turned out to be more than she could handle in the end.
“She’s not coming back, Royce,” Sully repeats softly. I know he’s saying it in the hopes it’s going to get through to me. But there are just some things I’m never going to be ready to really hear.
“So... what? We’re just giving up? Just finding Sophia a new mom? And calling her a nanny? Or girlfriend? Consort?”
“I don’t know why you need to put it that way, but if that’s how you want to say it… Yes. I suppose that’s a legitimate way of describing it, Royce. So can you interview her?”
“And what about everything else? Did August say she was cool with all of that? The rest of the package?”
Sully tips his head back to look at the ceiling. “Can you just do it?”
“You didn’t tell him, did you,” I accuse him. I realize as soon as I say it that it’s totally true. Sully definitely did not tell August that our intention is to have Sophia’s nanny/mother also be our shared lover. It’s the only way to make sure we are not creating more dead ends of the gene pool. That’s why we’ve all agreed.
“I don’t need to tell him. He already knows. He wouldn’t have sent someone who wasn’t mentally prepared for this.”
“The way Nina was prepared? Remember, she just gave up, Sully. She had been through the whole thing… all the psych evaluations, all the wooing, pretty much everything we could think of. She signed documents saying she was ready. And in the end, she wasn’t ready at all.”
Sully just stands there, taking it all in. I know he feels like I’m beating up on him, and maybe I am. But I’m still mad. Am I mad at Sully? Maybe not, but he’s definitely closest to me right now.
“Now you’ve got three minutes,” he informs me, and backs out of the room. He moves slowly, like a cruise ship. He’s almost as immovable too.
I guess I have to do this, so I head quickly over to my locker and try to find a clean shirt. I peel the sweaty one over my shoulders and toss it on the bench behind me.
“Oh!” comes a voice.
I turn around to see two of the biggest, most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. She’s holding my shirt in her hands, because I guess I threw it to her by mistake. I reach out and take it from her, noting the way she bites her lower lip and stares me up and down. Suddenly I feel a little bit more than naked, like she could see through my track pants too.
She blinks, pressing her lips together impishly. Automatically I stand up straighter, tensing my muscles. She smiles just a little bit and a small pink triangle of her tongue comes out to wet her lower lip, sliding slowly across the surface of her full, plush mouth.
We don’t say anything, but somehow the silence doesn’t seem inappropriate. After all, I did just throw my shirt at her. And she did just catch it. She stands there long enough that I can look her up and down, see the faint outlines of her hips under that flirty skirt, see the subtle points of her nipples tracing circles under her blouse as she breathes.
This is supposed to be our nanny?
Finally she raises her eyebrows slightly. I notice the way the freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose seem almost to dance with the tiniest shift in her expression.
Clearing my throat, I realize I’m still holding the other shirt in my hands. But it seems silly put it on now. It seems silly to interview her, also. She’s taken charge of the entire room. What am I going to say, no? When she’s already here?
“Sully says you’re interested in the position?”
Is that a smirk she is giving me? Is that a sexual innuendo?
“Yes, definitely… I’m interested in the position,” she affirms. It is the first time I have heard her voice, and it’s wonderful. A little breathy, a little husky. Not like a smoker’s voice, but something knowing and deep. It seems strange that voice comes out of this delicate, elfish beauty.
But she puts her hands on her hips and shifts her weight to one side, and I can see there’s more to her than that. She is not just a pixie. She is strong. I wonder if she lifts weights or trains in gymnastics or dance or something like that. Maybe a ballerina? I’m not sure we’ve ever had a ballerina.
“Sophia is four months old. How much experience do you have with infants?”
She smiles more broadly. “How much experience do you have with infants?” she challenges me.
At first I want to scoff, but she’s got a point. Obviously she has figured out that if we are looking for a nanny, we expect our
hands-on time to be limited to what I can handle.
“We are not all here at the same time. Not in Chicago,” I say by way of explanation. It’s a little evasive, but it seems to be working. “But we all spend time with her. You’ll need to make sure that she is available for us, as our schedules permit. Is that acceptable?”
She shrugs. “Certainly. You’re the boss. Er, bosses. There are how many of you, exactly?”
I’m surprised that August didn’t explain this to her. Neither did Sully, apparently.
“Five,” I say carefully, watching her face for signs of alarm. “And you’re sure you’re comfortable? With all of us?”
Her mouth pops open briefly. She clamps it together again and holds herself a little taller. I can see her mind working it out.
“All of you?” she counters. “In what way?”
I almost feel like challenging Sully to a race in the pool was the wrong call. I should’ve challenged this woman. She’s a much better competitor. I can tell by the way she is sizing me up that she does understand what I’m saying, but she wants clarification for the record.
Or, she’s trying to frame me for sexual harassment.
But something about her makes me want to take the chance. I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings. Nina seemed to understand, she certainly said she understood, but she never really did. She never looked at me the way this person is looking at me. Never like this.
“I’ll be frank,” I start again, clearing my throat. “We did not expect to need a new nanny. Our arrangement with Sophia’s mother was that she would be ours forever. Our arrangement with a replacement would have to be the same. She would have to be… ours. Forever.”
“You mean, sexually?”
She asks it innocently, but with that contradictory sultriness right underneath. It’s amazing to watch her be two things at once: innocent and worldly, impish and sexy, direct and indirect, virginal and completely slutty.
Oh my God, she’s licking her lower lip again.
“As a matter of fact, I do mean sexually. We have a lot to protect, as you can imagine. The fewer individual dalliances we have, the fewer chances there are for bad actors.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Bad actors,” she repeats.
“Maybe not intentionally, maybe not at first,” I explain cautiously, “but sometimes people want to leave. They marry then divorce. They are hired and then fired. Or they quit. One of the worst things that could happen would be someone who could split the inheritance away from Sophia. That would be monumentally unfair to her. So we have to protect that. You understand?”
She nods slowly. “You want a nanny… and a concubine?”
I scan her face for clues. Is she disgusted? Not that I can tell. She has an opinion, but I can’t see exactly what it is. I know I do not want to play poker with this woman.
“That’s one way of putting it. You could just think of us as a harem,” I counter. “Probably more than your wildest dreams.”
“Oh, I think my wildest dreams would probably really surprise you,” she sighs wistfully. For just a second, her gaze goes distant as though she’s actually remembering a dream or two. And for just a second, I’m extremely curious about what’s playing in her mind’s eye.
“You want to tell me?” I ask her in a low voice.
“Is that part of the interview?”
“Perhaps,” I shrug.
She snaps back to focus, smiling wickedly. “Mom always said not to give away the whole thing all at once, you know. But I could show you, maybe just a little bit? Maybe just a taste?”
I hear myself grunt in the affirmative. She walks closer to me, slow as a cat. Yes, as her joints move I can see how strong she is. Small and wiry, but strong. Strong enough for all of us? I’m really starting to wonder.
She drops to her knees in front of me, tugging my nylon track pants down past my hips. My cock springs out, ready for her. She takes it lightly at her fingertips, drawing it toward her smiling lips.
“Is this all right?” she asks in that husky, playful voice.
I lean my shoulders back against the cool metal of the lockers, nodding and watching her carefully.
She has a perfect blowjob mouth. Her lips are full and pillowy. Pink and almost creased in the center of her lower lip. Wet and inviting.
She guides me to the center of that beautiful mouth, brushing the head of my cock over her lips, glossing her pucker with my pre-cum. I shudder with anticipation as she stretches those perfect lips over the head of my cock, rolling her eyes back in pleasure. As she moans, the vibrations dance along her tongue and transfer to the length of my shaft.
She moans again, urging me deeper. I want to hold back, but I can’t. And in seconds I’m plowing her face, pistoning smoothly from the tip of her tongue to the back of her mouth.
She’s pliant and forgiving, allowing me to jackhammer her a few times, just as much as I dare before I explode, filling her mouth to overflowing with my seed. She gulps it down eagerly, then pulls away, brushing the dribbles of it off her chin with the back of her hand.
My body twitches uncontrollably, suddenly empty, completely surprised and saturated with pleasure.
“That was… amazing!” I mumble when I am finally able to catch my breath.
She draws herself back up to her feet, rearranging her clothes neatly.
“So, I assume that was acceptable?” she asks with a sassy shrug.
“Well… I have four more brothers,” I explain. “This isn’t a decision I could make on my own. I can’t offer you the job just yet.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she smirks. “Set something up for later today, would you?”
“I will…” I say, my vision bleary. “I mean, yes. I’ll arrange something. And you are… I mean, what’s your name?”
“Bunny,” she smiles as she turns around, heading back toward the door. Her ass cheeks swish under that flirty skirt and I want her again, I want all of her. I want to bury my face between those plump cheeks and lick her asshole. I want all of it.
“Bunny?” I repeat incredulously she disappears through the doorway, raising her hand in a small wave that wiggles her fingers.
It’s a strange name.
And yet, I can’t think of anything else you could possibly call her.
Chapter 5
Bunny
My heart is beating fast again. I wasn’t sure that my interview with Royce had really gone all that well, but when I got the text instructing me to meet in the penthouse suite in the hotel for another interview, I knew I probably still had a shot.
A shot at the strangest job I have ever heard of.
Chicago looks fascinating, but I don’t think I have time to go exploring right now. In any case, it’s huge. Here, in a luxury hotel on the lake, half the windows look out over at the beautiful blue expanse of Lake Michigan. The other half look out over a dense hive of building after building, with millions of people sprawling all the way out to the suburbs, I’m certain. It’s bigger than I thought. A little claustrophobic, honestly.
It’s probably safer to just wait at the hotel bar for forty-five minutes or so before taking the elevator up to the penthouse. I guess this is where they live? In a hotel? It’s a little strange. I had always thought that hotels were meant for temporary housing, but I guess if you own the damn things, they can be whatever the hell you want.
Rich people. They’re weird.
I sip delicately at my vodka and cranberry juice, wincing as the liquid burns against the back of my throat. Royce’s dick was huge, and the way he shoved it all the way to the back of my tongue was almost more than I could take. I was almost gagging but forced myself not to. I’m certainly not going to give up that easy.
Part of me wants to use some of my free time to give Dahlia a quick call. I want to tell her everything that happened… and I also want to find out why she thought it was okay to basically pimp me out to these guys. Kind of weird, no?
And also kind of awesom
e?
I wasn’t joking with Royce about the dreams. I don’t think I ever even told Dahlia about them. I used to dream all the time about having a whole fairytale stable full of handsome men to pick from. Guys who’d want to do things to me, give me baths, build things for me or tear things down. Guys who looked at me like I was the princess whom they were sworn to defend.
I had one really good fantasy about a monastery in the remote parts of Portugal or something. I mean, I wouldn’t recognize Portugal if I were actually in it, but it always sounded really exotic to me.
So one day, I’m just hiking or horseback riding or doing something fabulous… four-wheeling or treasure hunting like Indiana Jones or something… and I come upon this monastery.
They’re a bunch of quiet hunks in monks’ robes who haven’t seen a woman in decades, maybe even ever in their whole lives. When I arrive, I tell them I’m looking for directions but secretly I’m trying to get ahold of a rare manuscript they’re keeping in the catacombs. They’re all just dazzled by me. They can’t wait to get their hands on me.
The abbot sets up a private chamber for me, after insisting that I stay for a delicious, handmade dinner served by half a dozen handsome holy men. I retire to the chamber and fall into a deep sleep on the handmade feather mattress.
When two of them have my legs in their hands, their faces buried in my crotch as they both lick me, at first I don’t even realize I’m awake. How could they want something so sinful?
But as I wake more completely, I realize there are many more of them. One has his toes in my mouth. One is rubbing is soup can-thick erection in my armpit. But they all reserve my pussy for their abbot, making sure he gets the most tender slice. By the time he appears at the foot of my bed, opening his robe to display an eagle-shaped pattern of hair across his muscular chest that trails down to that glowing, bobbing hard-on below, I am more than ready for him. I’m practically begging for him, even though I don’t speak Portuguese.
See? This is like a dream come true, really.