The Nanny Plan

by Sarah M. Anderson

  “Let me see you—all of you,” Nate said, catching her hands and lifting them away. “You’re so beautiful, Trish.”

  “Nate...” Now that he wasn’t holding her up, her knees were practically knocking.

  But that was as far as she got before he pressed a kiss against the top of her thigh, then the other. And then?

  Then he gripped her by the hips, tilting her back ever-so-gently, and ran his tongue over the little button that he hadn’t quite managed to hit earlier.

  Her body seized up with pleasure. She’d touched herself, of course. But this? This was something else. Something entirely different.

  “I—I can’t stand,” she gasped as his tongue stroked her again and again. Light heat shimmered along her limbs, making her muscles tighten and weaken at the same time. So different, she thought. “I can’t take it, Nate.”

  He looked up at her and for the first time, she saw something wicked in his eyes. “Babe, we’re only just getting started.”

  Nine

  This was really happening. Nate wondered if he might be dreaming, but then he’d tasted her sweetness on his tongue. None of his dreams had been this good.

  Trish, in the bare flesh, was so much better than any fantasy he’d had.

  Her eyes went wide at his words. “What?”

  If he were a suave kind of guy, he’d figure out how to sweep her off her feet and lay her out on the bed without causing bodily harm to either of them, but he wasn’t going to risk that right now. So he took her by the hands and guided her down to her knees on the bed, which meant that they were almost eye-to-eye.

  “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to stand,” he promised, tilting her back in the bed. The look of shock on her face told him pretty much everything he needed to know.

  She didn’t have a whole lot of experience. Maybe none. And yet, she’d still worked him into a lather.

  It was time to return the favor.

  He hooked his elbows under her knees and pulled her to him. She made a little squeaking sound, so he said, “Let me love on you, Trish.” Then he lowered his mouth to her again.

  She really did have a honeyed sweetness to her and he couldn’t get enough of it—of her.

  Years of sexual frustration—of avoiding hookups and dodging would-be brides, all because he didn’t want anyone to break a promise they never intended to keep—seemed to surge up within his chest and he poured all of that energy into every action of his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. Trish’s hips shifted from side to side as he worked on her and her hands found their way back to his hair again.

  “That’s it, babe. Show me how you want it.”

  “We can’t wake the baby,” she panted in a forced whisper.

  “I’ll be quiet, I promise.” Then he slipped a finger inside of her.

  Her tight muscles clamped around him with such force that he almost lost it right then. He licked her again and was rewarded with a noise that went past a groan into almost a howl.

  “Come for me, Trish. Show me what you can do.” He flicked his tongue back and forth over her, so hard and hot for his touch.

  “Nate,” she gasped out. “Nate—oh, Nate!”

  His name on her lips, his body inside of hers—this was worth it. Years of self-denial—all worth the way they fit together.

  He reached up to grasp her dark pink nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pulled. Not hard, but enough that she gasped again and came up off the bed a couple of inches.

  Then he felt it—her inner muscles clamped down on him and her head thrashed from side to side and her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She came silently, her gaze locked onto his.

  He couldn’t remember being this excited. He was probably going to lose it the moment he plunged into her wet heat, but it didn’t matter. He’d done this for her, given her this climax.

  But he couldn’t waste time patting himself on the back. Trish propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes glazed with satisfaction. “Boy,” she said weakly. “I’m sure glad I did the seducing here.”

  “Me, too.” He forced himself to pull away from her. He needed to be rid of his pants right now. He was so hard he was going to break the damned zipper. That’s what she did to him.

  But she sat up and swatted his hands away from his trousers. “Mine,” she said as she jerked the button free and ripped the zipper down. “I can return the favor.” The pants fell down and there he was, straining his boxer-briefs to the point of failure. She ran her hands over his length again. “If you want.”

  There it was again—that hint of innocence. “I consider myself well and truly seduced.” As he said it, she rubbed her thumb over his tip.

  He jerked under her hands, so close already. He couldn’t withstand the pressure of her mouth on him and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

  “Condoms,” he got out through gritted teeth.

  She snagged the box and haphazardly tore it open. He took a condom from her and held as still as he could while she yanked his underwear down.

  He ripped open the foil packet but before he could sheath himself, she’d taken him back in hand. “Built,” she murmured, encircling his width with her hand and stroking up, then back down.

  “Trish,” he hissed. “I need to be inside you. Right now.”

  She looked up at him with big eyes. She was panting now, the haze of desire edging back. “I love it when you’re all ruthless like that.”

  He paused halfway through rolling on the condom, then finished the task at hand. “You do?”

  “Very powerful.” Her gaze darted down to where he was sheathed. “That’ll...that’ll work, right?”

  “Right.” He climbed onto the bed, scooting her back so that she was against the pillows as he went. “Tell me if it’s not working, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said as she looped her legs around his waist.

  He kissed her as he fit himself against her. “Beautiful,” he murmured as he tried a preliminary thrust.

  Her body took him in, but she still sucked in air.

  “Okay?”

  “I think—just a second—”

  “Take your time. I’ve got all night.” Which was not, in the strict sense of the word, true. He could feel her hips shifting beneath his as she adjusted to his width and it about killed him.

  Then she shifted again, her hips rising toward him and, without being conscious of the motion, he pushed in deeper. “Oh!” she said, but he didn’t hear any pain in her voice. Just surprise.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes. I think so...” Her hips flexed and her tightness eased back just enough that he was able to go deeper. And deeper. Until finally he was fully joined to her.

  “Oh, babe,” he groaned as he pushed back against the climax that already threatened to swamp him. “You feel so good.”

  “Um...okay.”

  He kissed her eyelids. Yeah, she’d never done this before. He had to make this count. “Ready?”

  She looked worried, as if she were expecting a marching band to show up. “For?”

  “This, babe.” He withdrew and thrust back in, focusing on keeping his breath even and his climax firmly under control. “This.”

  “Oh. Oh!” As he pulled out and thrust in again, everything about her changed. Her hips rose up to meet him and her eyelids drifted shut as she felt him move inside of her. “Oh, Nate.”

  “Yeah, babe.” They fell into a good rhythm, the give-and-take between his body and hers something different than he remembered. He wasn’t as experienced as some, but he’d learned a lot during the two years he and Diana had been together.

  He put that experience to good use now. He and Trish—they fit. Her warmth, wet and tight, took everything he had and then some, until she was arching her back and thrashing
her head around and opening her mouth but not making a single noise as everything about her tightened down on him.

  “So beautiful,” he managed to get out again as her shockwaves pushed him faster and harder until he gave up the fight with himself and surrendered to her.

  Then they lay still. He remembered to pull out so he didn’t compromise the condom. But after that, he just lay on her chest.

  “Oh, my,” she finally breathed as she stroked his head.

  “Is that a good ‘oh, my’ or a bad one?”

  “Good. Very good.” She sighed dreamily. “I didn’t...” the words trailed off and she looked worried again.

  He hefted himself up onto his forearms so he could look at her. “Thank you.”

  A wary look clouded her eyes. “For?”

  He grinned down at her. “For not making me break my promise. Not at first, anyway.”

  “Oh.” She exhaled. “I thought you were going to say something foolish, like thanking me for my virginity or something archaic like that.”

  He started to laugh in spite of himself. Must be the euphoric high, he thought, because he did not remember being this happy after sex. “Archaic?” He slid off to her side, but he didn’t let go of her. One hand around her waist, pinning him to her chest. “You really hadn’t done that before?”

  After a moment where her body tensed up, she relaxed in his arms. “I didn’t want to. I mean, I did, but...”

  “You weren’t ready to be a mother.” That’s what she’d said. He just hadn’t realized how deeply that commitment went.

  “No.” She laced her fingers with his. “I didn’t know it was going to be like that.”

  As the words trailed off, the keening wail of Jane crying cut across the hallway. “Oh,” Trish said, visibly shaking off the last of her desire. She sat up and looked around as if coming out of a dream. “I’ve got to go.”

  He sat up and reached for her. “Trish—”

  But she was out of bed, gathering up her clothes and all but sprinting out of his room. “I’ve got her,” she called back over her shoulder, right before she pulled the door shut.

  What had just happened here? One moment, she was sated and happy in his arms and the next?

  Basically running away from him.

  A sinking pit of worry began to form in his stomach. He tried to push it aside—she’d seduced him, not the other way around—but it didn’t work. They might have followed the letter of their agreement, but not the real spirit of it.

  He’d slept with her.

  What had he done?

  * * *

  Trish used the bathroom and dressed quickly, making soothing noises to Jane the whole time.

  She’d slept with Nate. Her first.

  She needed to get Jane quieted back down so that Nate would go to sleep because she couldn’t bear to talk to him right now, couldn’t bear to lay in his arms and feel his body pressed against hers.

  “Shh, shh, I’m here, sweetie,” she hummed to Jane as she picked up the baby. She glanced at the clock. The little girl was up two hours before she should be. “Is it your teeth? Poor baby.” For once in her life, she hoped it really was Jane’s teeth—and not that Trish and Nate had been too loud.

  She carried the baby downstairs and got one of the wet washcloths she’d stashed in the freezer. “Let’s try this and see if we can go back to sleep, okay?” She headed back up to the nursery and sat in the glider, rocking Jane and humming softly as the little girl soothed her sore gums.

  Trish wished she could soothe herself, but alas that didn’t look like it was going to happen anytime soon. She kept a close eye on the door to the nursery, wanting Nate’s shirtless form to appear and hoping like hell it didn’t.

  She’d slept with him. There was nothing wrong with that, per se. But...

  She’d liked it. His mouth on her body, his body inside of hers? The way he’d made her feel?

  God, how she’d liked it.

  In the moment when he’d pulled free of her, she’d almost cried out to lose that connection with him. And when he’d tucked her against his chest, his arms tight around her waist?

  She’d been on the verge of taking him in her hand—on the verge of seducing him a second time, just because she wanted that connection back. Because she wanted that feeling of clarity when his body pushed hers over the edge.

  And she knew that, if he appeared in the doorway and said, “Come back to bed, Trish,” she’d be helpless to say no, helpless to do anything but march right back into his bedroom and strip off her clothing again and explore his body over and over until they were both spent and dazed and the only thing in the world was Nate and Trish and a very big bed.

  She would be his. Body, mind and soul. There’d be no turning back.

  She’d be just like her mother.

  This realization made her start, which jolted poor Jane. The baby started to fuss again. “Shh, shh,” Trish whispered, finding a still-cold corner of the washcloth for Jane to chew on.

  Of course Trish knew that sex had to be fun. That’s why people did it so much, right? That’s why her mother couldn’t stay single—why she’d pick up a man at a bar and screw him in the parking lot and then, when he turned out to be an asshole, she couldn’t kick him out of her life.

  Trish had asked her once why she kept going with men who didn’t even seem to like her. And Pat had replied with tears in her eyes, “Oh, Trish, honey, I know that the bad times can seem pretty bad. But when it’s good...” and she’d gotten this far-away look in her eyes, a satisfied smile curling her lip up. “When it’s good, it’s so good.”

  Which hadn’t made any sense to Trish at the ripe old age of ten because, as far as she could tell, there was nothing good about the men her mother picked.

  As she’d grown up and come to understand the mechanics of sex—and as she’d explored her own body—she still hadn’t understood what the big deal was. She could bring herself to a quick, quiet little orgasm, but that wasn’t enough to make her want to throw away everything she’d worked for.

  Except now she knew. She knew how a man could make her feel, make her body do things that Trish couldn’t do to herself. Oh, Nate...with his big hands and bigger muscles and his damned principles about keeping his promises.

  Jane had fallen asleep at some point in the past twenty minutes, but Trish was in no hurry to put the baby back in her crib. She needed this small child—needed the physical barrier Jane provided. Hadn’t that been the problem tonight? Trish had tied Nate’s tie without a baby between them and she’d kissed him because a man had no business looking as handsome as he did in that tux.

  And then he’d come home early just because he wanted to see her. Her! She was nothing—a poor Indian woman who didn’t even know who her father was. Tonight, Nate had walked away from heiresses and self-made women—women who matched his social standing and his love of modern technology—for her. There was no way she could keep up with him.

  What a mess. Easily the biggest mess she’d ever gotten herself into, all because she liked him. Because she let herself like him instead of holding him at an arm’s length.

  What could she do? Quit? She looked down at the baby sleeping in her arms. She’d gotten Jane calmed down and mostly on a schedule. It’d be easier for Nate to hire a nanny now because he knew what to expect from a nanny and he knew what Jane needed.

  But. Of course there was a “but.”

  If she quit, would he withhold the funding he’d promised? He’d signed a contract; so had she. She didn’t think he would. He was a decent man—possibly the best man she’d ever met. But rejection did nasty things to people. She’d watched her mother curse and cry and throw their few dishes against the wall when she’d found out her current man was seeing someone on the side and Trish had huddled in her room with her siblings whe
n the breakups happened.

  But if Trish stayed...she’d want Nate again. And again. She’d want to spend the night trying different positions, different ways to make him cry out her name in that hoarse voice. She’d want to sleep in his bed, his strong arms firmly around her waist, his chest warming her back. She’d want to wake up with him and have breakfast with him out on the patio of this house and count the hours until Jane went down for her nap so that Trish could pull Nate into his room and do it all over again.

  She could stay here with him, raise his niece for him. She could do whatever he wanted, as long as he kept making love to her.

  The intensity of this need scared her. For once in her life, she understood her mother, how she could overlook the health and safety of her children in favor of a man who might make her feel like Nate had made Trish feel.

  Because if she stayed here with Nate and raised Jane—became a permanent nanny during the day and his lover at night—well, then what would happen to One Child, One World?

  How was Trish supposed to look her baby sister in the eyes and say, “Yes, I know I said you should put your education and career ahead of any man, but he’s a really great guy!”

  Because that’s what her mother would say. That’s what her mother would do.

  Trish was not her mother.

  And that was final.

  Ten

  Nate drifted in and out of consciousness as he waited for Trish to come back. He heard her go downstairs and then, sometime later, he heard her go down again, which didn’t make any sense. When had she come back up?

  His head was heavy with sleep. He’d sort of forgotten how much really awesome sex took out of him. But when he heard her come back upstairs again and yet she still didn’t come back into his room, he forced himself to roll over and check the time on his phone.

  Three-thirty.

  He blinked at the red numbers again, but they didn’t change. That wasn’t right, was it? She’d left the first time around eleven and he knew she hadn’t come back to him.