“I’m going to come,” I bark as the first euphoric wave rushes through me. My breath shutters from my lungs in a growl of pleasure, the intensity robbing me of all thought.
As I slowly ride the wave back to reality, she pulls that beautiful mouth off my cock and slowly begins to kiss her way up my stomach, giving me a sexy grin as she once again pays homage to my V.
I am not an emotional guy, but my chest is tight with a foreign sensation, and I bite my bottom lip to hold back a murmur of gratitude. The tenderness I’m feeling toward her right now is unexpected, and I’m caught off guard by the power of it. There’s a fullness where my heart is hammering, and at the same time an emptiness making me crave more than just a superficial fuck with her. I’m overwhelmed. I’m drowning—and Amelia is my life raft.
“Come here.” My voice is thick as I drag her up my body. I roll her beneath me and claim her mouth in a deep, tender kiss. I take my time with her, exploring and worshiping this beautiful woman. “Are you on the pill?” I ask between kisses. I don’t want there to be any barriers between us.
“Yes,” she answers when I move my mouth to the corner of her jaw.
I kiss that sensitive spot below her ear, the one that gives her goose bumps. “Is it okay if I don’t wear a condom?” I nip, lick, and suck my way down her throat. “I swear I’m clean.” I slip my hand between her legs and test her readiness for me. She’s drenched. Her arousal coats my fingers as I slip one in and then add another.
“It’s okay,” she pants, her hands sliding into my hair as I take her breast into my mouth and tease the puckered bud. It doesn’t take long before she’s writhing beneath me, begging me to fuck her.
I pull my hand away and grip the base of my cock, slipping through her silky folds. I pause, about to push inside, when a knot of anxiety come out of nowhere and cinches around my chest. My lungs refuse to work, trapping my breath as a shiver of trepidation races down my spine. I give it a moment to pass, but it doesn’t.
Amelia must sense my hesitation because she tenses beneath me and takes my face in her hands. “Brody, are you okay?”
I meet her eyes, and the invisible band around my chest squeezes tighter. Fuck, I can’t breathe. I try to speak but no sound will come past the emotion clogging my throat. I nod and close my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart. Holy shit, I don’t know if I can do this. I want to. Fuck, do I want to, but I’m frozen. I can’t move. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Brody, breathe,” Amelia’s sweet, soft voice calls to me over the deafening pounding of my pulse as her hands tenderly cradle my cheeks. Her touch is my anchor in the emotional storm that’s come over me without warning.
I force my lungs to open and draw a deep breath of air. In and out. In and out. Whatever it was that took hold of me is finally loosening its steely grip. I still haven’t moved, my cock hovering at her entrance.
“Look at me,” Amelia coaxes.
I force my gaze back to hers and study her eyes, focusing on those rich brown irises sprinkled with amber and golden flecks—so beautiful. But it’s what I see staring back at me that releases me from the emotional cage I’m locked in. Her thumbs brush over my cheeks, and she lifts her head off the pillow, kissing my lips—softly, tenderly. I love the feel of her mouth against mine. It melts me. I want to give myself to her, and she deserves all of me. I need to push past this emotional roadblock. I’m not sure why I’m having such a problem moving on.
The longer we kiss, the more I relax, bringing my mind out of the past and keeping it here in the present with her. The desire to claim her builds and soon becomes too powerful to ignore. I lift my head, hold Amelia’s gaze, and push inside her.
The fit is tight and more than I think she was prepared for. Amelia’s pupils dilate, her eyes growing wide, a surprised gasp breaking her lips.
“You okay?” I don’t take my eyes off hers. She’s keeping me in the moment, and it’s so fucking incredible.
“I’m good,” she whispers, pulling me down for a kiss. “I just need a minute.”
Her sheath is squeezing my length; the grip is relentless. “Take all the time you need.” I kiss her again—a long, slow, deep kiss that mimics what I plan to do to her body very shortly.
I slide my hand up the inside of her thigh. When I reach where we’re joined, my thumb crests her clit with slow, teasing circles. She moans into my mouth, and I could come from the aural she’s giving me—so breathy and needy.
Soon, she’s moving, rocking her hips and taking me deeper. I meet her hips with a gentle thrust. Her gasp follows the sweetest moan and I greedily devour it.
“Do that again,” she pants.
My pleasure.
This thrust seats me deep inside her, my head buried against her core, and fuck me, it feels like I’m home. Her body yields sweetly to mine, gripping me so tight the base of my spine tingles, pressure building in my cock. I knew it would be good with Amelia. I just didn’t think it could be this good.
I set our pace, a slow, steady rhythm. All the while, my gaze stays locked with hers. At first, I needed it to keep present and in the moment. Now, I just love looking at her. I get off on seeing the pleasure I’m giving her play across her beautiful, expressive face. It’s intoxicating. Powerful. Addictive.
“Mia, you’re so fucking beautiful.” The tension builds inside me, and my pace quickens, shifting from leisurely to demanding. Soon my release will be barreling down on me, but that can’t happen before she comes. I tease my thumb over her clit and then press down on the little bundle of nerves, trapping it against my cock as I start fucking her in earnest. She lets out a breathy cry, the sharp cusps of her nails dig into my back. The bite of pain sends a jolt of pleasure into my cock as her little glove grips me tighter. She’s so close. The beginning tremors of her release shiver through me.
“Brody,” she pants my name, and I’m lost.
My orgasm tears through me, and I bury my face in her neck to muffle the harsh bark of my release. Pleasure explodes through my body as my seed jets against her greedy core, her glove milking my cock in tandem with my release, heightening the euphoric rush of adrenaline.
She cries out, and hearing that breathy scream, knowing I’m giving it to her, fills me with animalistic pride.
This woman belongs to me. There are other voices inside my head—voices whispering truths I don’t want to hear. They’re telling me dangerous lies like she might be the one, and that I might be falling for her.
Chapter Fifteen
Brody
I wake to an empty bed and lift my head, glancing at the alarm clock then flopping back onto the pillow. The movement stirs the air with Amelia’s lavender scent, making my morning wood impossibly harder. I’ve got to be at the airport in three hours, and all I want to do is haul that woman back into my bed.
I love football, don’t get me wrong, but I’m well into the season, and keeping up this pace is grueling. The training, the practice, the traveling, the games—it’s difficult shifting that into the top priority spot in my life when there are so many other things—other people—I’d rather have there.
I hit the shower, and after a quick soap and rinse, I throw an overnight bag together and head downstairs. If I hurry, I can still have some time with Lily and Amelia before I need to leave.
“Hey, Lily pad,” I call when I spot her sitting on the sofa. Heading over, I drop a kiss on the top of her head and take a deep breath, getting my strawberry fix.
“Daddy, look, you’re on TV.” Lily’s little finger points to the screen as I glance up to catch the highlight reels of last week’s game. Two sports anchors are shooting the shit like they always do, giving the play-by-play rundown.
“Why are you watching Extreme Sports Network?” Amelia knows I don’t want her watching this.
“I turned the TV on and saw you.”
I haven’t seen the footage from last Sunday, and wince at the replay of Butler sacking me. That fucking hurt. I watch as I fly into the air, ass ov
er tea kettle, and hit the ground. Hard. Butler piles on top of me and the footage cuts to the stellar catch Penner makes, winning the game. I glance around for the remote to turn the channel when they flash another reel up on the screen.
Shit.
“Lily, where’s the remote?”
“Daddy, I’m on TV!” Lily starts bouncing on the couch, pointing excitedly. “And there’s Mia.”
“Yeah, I see her.” And so does every other sports fan across the United States. The clip shows Lily in my arms, but my gaze is fixed on Amelia. The footage catches me snagging the hem of her jersey and tugging her toward me. She smiles and casts a nervous glance to the camera, like we’ve got something to hide, and that’s all it will take for the rumors to start. “Lily, where is the remote?” I ask again, searching the couch so I can shut this shit off.
“And who is this mystery woman? That’s the burning question on the minds of sports fans.”
I glance up at the TV and scrub my hand over the back of my neck. I work hard to keep my private life private. Last year those fuckers dragged my name through the mud, talking about Stella and rehashing the accident over and over.
There were a lot of pissed off fans who blamed me for the Brown’s loss last year. I stand behind my decision to step away and focus on Lily. I had no trouble weathering that storm, but I do take issue with sport shows like this that draw their viewers by gossiping about my personal life. The last thing I need or want is Amelia getting caught up in this drama.
“As many of you know, Evans’s season was cut short last year when his wife was killed in a tragic car accident.” The screen behind the hosts switches to a picture of Stella. “It was during that time Evans’s discovered his wife was having an affair with his teammate, Kyle Williams—”
“Shit.” Catching a glimpse of black between the couch cushions, I lunge for the remote but I’m too late.
“Daddy…” Lily turns to look at me, tears pooling in her dark blue eyes. “Why are they talking about mommy?”
Fury licks through my veins, and my calm detonates like an atomic fucking bomb. “Amelia!” I shout, turning off the television and tossing the remote onto the end table. “Lily, honey, go up to your room.”
Amelia runs into the living room, a panicked expression on her face. “Brody, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? Don’t you monitor what she’s watching?” I point at the seventy-two-inch flat screen hanging on the wall. “Lily just saw a picture of her mother plastered across the TV. That’s what’s wrong.”
She sees Lily crying and shoots me a look like it’s my fault.
“Lily, please go upstairs,” I tell her again because my temper is seconds from blowing.
“Brody, stop.” Amelia’s tone is calm but firm, and there’s an undertone of warning that I’m too furious to heed. “You’re upsetting Lily.”
Lily scrambles off the couch, but instead of going to her room, she runs to Amelia who scoops her up into her arms. “They’re talking about mommy…”
Lily buries her face in her nanny’s neck, sobbing as Amelia gently rubs her back and tells her it’s going to be okay. But it’s not okay. None of this shit is okay.
“Of course, she’s upset,” I rant. “I’m upset.”
Somewhere in the far back of my mind, I’m aware that I’m being an asshole, but I’m too far gone in self-destructive descent to care. “I’ve told you she’s not allowed to watch this. My life is a media frenzy. I can’t take a piss without these people gossiping about it.”
“Brody, I understand that you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but that’s enough. Lily doesn’t need to see this. She’s already upset, and you’re making it worse.”
If I were rational, I’d admire the hell out of Amelia for standing up to me and putting me in my place. She’s protective over Lily and acting more like a mama bear than a nanny. But I’m not rational, and seeing Stella’s face plastered across the TV flipped my switch, and this shit has been building up inside me for a year.
Unfortunately, Amelia is in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Don’t you dare judge me.” I point at her, because yeah, that’s a good idea. “And don’t tell me how to raise my kid.” Amelia turns and walks away, back straight, shoulders stiff, and head held high. “You work for me.” I remind her, as if she’s forgotten. “I hired you. And I can fire you.”
She stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks at me with a mixture of fury and disappointment. When I see her eyes gloss with tears, it’s like I’ve been sucker-punched. I can’t fucking breathe. My legs feel like they’re going to give out.
“You can’t fire me, Brody, because I quit. You can take your contract and shove it up your ass.” She turns and marches up the stairs with my daughter held protectively in her arms.
Oh my God. What have I done?
And just like that, my anger dissolves into panic.
It takes a solid hour to calm Lily down. Seeing her mother on TV rattled her, but my response didn’t help the situation, and that’s on me. When I leave her room, she’s watching Frozen, her floppy-eared bunny snuggled in her lap. My heart races with equal parts dread and anxiety as I head across the hall to find Amelia. I hear the sharp snap of closing dresser drawers. Regret settles in my gut like a lead weight, making me nauseated.
I knock softly on her door, hoping she’ll answer, but I get nothing but silence. I turn the knob, praying she didn’t have the foresight to lock it, and thankfully, it opens. She doesn’t acknowledge me. Her back is to the door as she removes her clothes from the dresser and carries them to the overflowing suitcase on her bed.
“Amelia, can I talk to you a minute?”
She stops, her shoulders stiff. Keeping her back to me, she answers in a soft monotone. “I don’t think so, Brody. You’ve said more than enough.”
She heads back to the dresser and opens the bottom drawer, pulling out another stack of clothes.
“I’m sorry.”
She loads them into her suitcase, shuts the lid, and throws her meager weight over it, pushing it closed while wrestling with the zipper. I could help her but, fuck, I don’t want her to leave.
“I’m sure you are.” The frost in her voice ratchets my panic.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want.”
Fuck, I don’t want to do this with her—not like this, anyway. But I’ve got no choice. It’s my only chance of convincing her to stay. I’ve never wanted her pity, and I still don’t, but appealing to her emotions is the only play I’ve got. Taking a deep breath, I force the words from my throat. “She cheated on me.”
…
Amelia
“Stella… She was having an affair.”
I stop fighting the zipper on my suitcase and stand with my back to Brody. This isn’t easy for him, and the fact that he’s here, baring his soul, tells me how desperate he is for me to stay. But after the way he behaved, I’m not sure that I can.
“I didn’t know,” he continues. “I found out when she had the accident. A teammate of mine was in the car with her.”
I turn to face him. My chest tightens at the raw pain and regret in his eyes. It breaks my heart. “I’m sorry, Brody.” There’s nothing else I can say. No words can ease his suffering, and maybe I was naive to think that I could.
“A reporter from Extreme Sports Network found out what happened. I don’t know how, but it was all over the news—the accident, the affair with Kyle Williams. I’ve tried to protect Lily from it, to keep her from hearing about her mother’s betrayal. I guess it was only a matter of time before it happened, but God, I didn’t want it to be like this.”
Lily’s young and probably didn’t understand what she heard, but that’s not really the point. Brody knows, and his private life has been blasted all over the television—again. And this time, it’s because of me.
“It doesn’t excuse my actions. Nothing does.” Clearing his throat, he stares at th
e floor and scrubs his hand over the back of his neck. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, Amelia. You didn’t deserve that, and Lily is lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you. Just, please, don’t go. I’m trying to work through this, and obviously I still have a long way to go, but don’t punish Lily for my mistakes. She loves you.”
“I love her.” Tears burn my eyes and my vision blurs. Can’t he see that watching him hurting like this tears my heart out? I want to go to him. I want to comfort him. Before I can step in his direction, Brody backs into the hall.
“That’s all I have to say. Just please think about staying. If you can’t, I’ll understand. Call Julia, and she’ll come stay with Lily until I get home.”
He turns to leave, pulling my door closed behind him, and I lose the battle with my tears. Dropping onto the side of the bed, I bury my face in my hands and cry. I cry for Lily, for the mother she lost and will never get the chance to know. And I cry for Brody, the man who’s been broken and, I fear, irreparably damaged. What can I do? The thought of leaving breaks my heart, and the thought of staying terrifies me. This is no longer a job for me. These people have become my home, my family, and I haven’t exactly had the best track record when it comes to families.
In my heart, my decision is already made. I can’t leave them, even if I wanted to.
…
Brody
“Never thought I’d say this, but you looked like shit out there, Evans.”
“Thanks.” I flip Penner off as he drops onto the bench beside me. We lost tonight—thirty-two to six. It wasn’t even close. We’ve got three more games left before playoffs, and we need to win them all to take the division. That’ll give us home-field advantage.
“Your reaction time sucks, and your arm is soft. Fuck, my grandma can run faster than you.”
“Fuck you, Penner.”
He chuckles and shakes his head as if it’s a real offer. “Nah, thanks. I’m too much for you to handle, but I think that might be your problem.”
The Nanny Rules Page 10