Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“You make it sound so simple.” Her voice is softer, like the fight has slipped from her.
“It’s the opposite of simple. But it is real. So I propose we stop pretending we’re immune to each other. That we enjoy something that’s already happened. Again.” And again and again.
“For practice?” she snipes, folding her arms tight. “Are you proposing to give me lessons?”
“Intimacy isn’t something you practice. It’s something you enjoy. Let me help you discover that.”
“So magnanimous.”
I chuckle—I can’t help it. She’s so fucking stubborn. So beautiful.
“And absolutely nothing in it for you, then.”
And delectably feisty. I’ll enjoy fucking that out of her. “You, Primevère, you’re in it for me.”
Her mouth flattens. “Stop calling me that.”
“Let’s build on last night. Or to use your words, fuck. In our downtime.”
“Because you saw something on Porn Hub one time?” she taunts.
“Really,” I gently chide.
“Maybe Felix picked up the habit from you. What is it you’re into? What’s your flavor, huh? Dominant Dad turns Naive Nanny Nympho?”
I smirk. Her mind is a curious place. “That’s quite the tongue twister.”
“Is that what she said?” With a huff, she swings away. “Is this why you can’t keep a nanny?” she demands as I turn and watch her pace around the room. But she doesn’t leave, and that in itself is telling.
“I am a paragon of virtue around my staff. Ask Emmy if you don’t believe me.”
She scoffs. “That doesn’t mean getting it on with the nanny isn’t what floats through your head during your alone times.”
“Do you think I have a lot of those?”
“I can’t work out if you’re bigging up your sexual prowess or asking me how many times a day I think you interfere with yourself.”
I wipe my hand across my mouth, but my humor won’t be concealed. “Well, now I’m doubly curious what you think.”
“Is it the power dynamic?” She presses her hands together in what I presume is meant to be an angelic pose. “The young, inexperienced girl and the older, dominant man just itching to teach her a few things?”
“That’s the second time you’ve used that word. Dominant.” My voice drops in register, the word delivered from my chest. However, the effect of her assumption falls a little farther south. “Maybe it’s you who’s been trawling porn.”
“So what is it about nannies?” she demands, deliberately obtuse. Spiky and annoyed, chin tilted in challenge because I’m getting to her. “Could it be the clichéd, hackneyed tackiness of it all?”
“Except, you’re not a nanny, Doctor Whittington.” Hands in my pockets again, I saunter toward her. “So your hypothesis doesn’t stand. Which leaves us with what?” I lift my hand slowly to tug aside the collar of her shirt and feel a primitive surge of ownership at the sight of my mark. “The answer is you. It looks like I have a thing for you.”
24
PRIMROSE
I whisper his name when I’d meant to say stop because there’s something unnervingly tender about the way he looks at me. The way his gaze moves over my face, his eyes the kind of blue that only appears once the sun begins to sink. The color is beguiling and fathomless. Impossible to look away from.
His hand lifts, the action so slow that I can almost predict what’s about to happen. His finger will graze my cheek; maybe he’ll tuck away a stray strand of my hair. He’ll murmur something sweet, and his words will dance tantalizingly across my lips. I can predict it, and I should stop it. But I don’t as my lips part in anticipation when his fingers slide past my cheek with barely a graze. He’s going to cup the nape of my neck and draw me—
“Ungh!”
The noise I make as he tightens his hand at the base of my skull should be embarrassing as my scalp comes alive with a wash of electric-like tingles, the hard tug resonating everywhere. It’s like a million nerve endings being tied together before bursting in unison.
Who knew it could feel like this?
“Give yourself to me,” he growls, his cheek pressed to mine. “Let’s finish what we started.”
“N-now?” That’s not what I meant to say.
“Now. Tonight. Tomorrow. All the days and nights until you leave.” He rains kisses across my jaw, his lips an open-mouthed slide down my neck.
“No biting.” My words sound as weak as a kitten, because I crave it.
“I would show you such pleasures.” The vibration of his words shudder through me in a wave of pure temptation, and my resolve stretches like cheap knicker elastic as he flexes into me again.
He’s so hot and hard, and I’m so—
Stupid.
I said I wouldn’t do this again. But those French whispers of his are something else. I know I should’ve told him I understand, but it’s too late now.
My fascination snaps from head to body when Luc peels open a button on my shirt. Another, then another, then he’s pulling the cotton from the waist of my shorts, and I’m not saying no. I can’t seem to make myself.