Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(27)

Her chest pushes into mine, nipples taut and perky, scraping me through the fabric of my shirt. Time for that shit to go. Buh-bye. I break our mouths apart for a split second to strip down my upper half. Brooke follows suit without any prompting, exposing the full ripeness of her breasts to me.

I can't help it; I am a boob connoisseur, baby.

My hands cup each one of the full mounds, thumbs teasing the pink nipples into a red rosy blush, tightening them up to fine points as she moans and lets her head fall back. I don't think I've ever been with a girl whose hair is this long. It's exciting, the way it drapes down her back, curls against the pillows in a chocolate swirl.

My lips quirk into a smile as I slide a hand around to Brooke's back and pull her close, dropping my mouth to her breasts and tasting the sweet warmth of her skin. She smells like soap and fruit, and her body is unbelievably soft. God, yes. I seriously don't understand why all women aren't gay. Why would anyone in their right mind want to be with a guy? I mean, eww. Chicks are so much hotter.

I kiss my way up between her breasts, making my way to Brooke's throat and tasting her pulse with my tongue. It's beating so frantically, it's a wonder she's not passing out from the rush.

When my right hand sneaks down her belly and dips into her shorts, Brooke tenses a little. I make sure to kiss her, drag her mind back to her lips while I slide my middle finger between the scalding warmth of her folds.

She makes a small noise against my mouth, scooting closer, her body leaning against mine.

I grin against Brooke's mouth as I slick my finger up to her clit and circle around it while she gasps in these hiccupy little breaths that I've never seen from a chick before. It's beyond f*cking cute.

“Oh, I like that,” I say as I lean into her, pushing her gently back into the pillows as I position myself above her and gasp when she grabs onto my nipple rings and pulls. “Look at you, Smarty-Pants.”

I pause for a moment as Brooke explores my chest with her hands, rubbing her palms over the silver piercings as I run my tongue along my lower lip.

“Be as rough as you want with 'em,” I say as I drop my mouth to her ear and bite gently on the lobe. “Do whatever you want.” Brooke takes my words to heart, yanking hard on my nipple rings as I grunt and shove a single finger into her.

There's a ragged burst of breath as her hands grip my biceps and she thrusts her hips up against me.

“You are so f*cking tight,” I whisper as I work that single finger in and out, teasing Brooke's slickness as I struggle to breathe against the tightness in my balls and cock. I haven't even put it in the girl yet and I feel like I'm ready to burst. “And your clit's swollen as hell. What were you up to in that shower of yours?”

I'm just talking dirty for fun, but I guess Brooke's one step ahead of me.

“I was touching myself,” she whispers and I groan, dropping my forehead down and adjusting my hand, so I can get a second finger inside of her. She accepts it easily enough, but her breath flickers and flutters as she digs her nails into the tattoos on my upper arms.

My thumb slicks up to her clit and I give her the signature Zayden Roth treatment, guaranteed to make any woman come in record time. My fingers press tight against the upper walls of her *, teasing that special warm spot right at the opening. They call it the G-spot, but personally, I like to call it the Z-spot. It sounds lame, I know, but if you were in Brooke's place, you wouldn't think so.

With shaking hands, Brooke slides her fingers down my belly and struggles with my belt, working my pants open so she can get her hand back to the spot it was in two days ago. This time, her touch is a little less frantic, but just as unsure.

“Grip harder,” I whisper against her ear and she groans, biting her lip as I push my fingers in to the knuckle. I close my eyes as she works my shaft, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair, tasting the soft flutter of her pulse until the tightening down below matches up.

That's when I know she's ready for me.

I withdraw my hand slowly and cup her bare * tight before I draw back and stand up, shoving my jeans to the floor and then bending down to fish the condom out of my back pocket. Yeah, I'm a dickhead; I always keep one with me for emergencies. Never know when the ballsy blues are gonna strike, right?

“This is so f*cking crazy,” Brooke mumbles as she shoves her shorts down and tosses them aside, sitting up and curling her legs to the side. Her long hair drapes down and pools in her lap. “You do this thing all the time? Sleep with strangers?”

I shrug my shoulders as I stand up and let her get a good, long look at me.

“They're only strangers until you sleep with them,” I joke with a wiggle of my brows. “And then you're just lovers.” I lean forward and put my hands on the side of the bed. “You ready for me to be your lover, baby?”

“Is your … are your balls pierced?” I stand back up and let Brooke have a good, long look. I've got quite the collection down there: tattoos all around my hips, my inner thighs, my cock, my balls. I've got a Prince Albert—a silver ring through the head—and a frenum piercing which goes through the tissue on the underside of my shaft. Can't be a body piercer without displaying my craft, right? “Oh my God.” Brooke points out the two silver metal pieces on my cock. “My favorite drummer ever has one of those. Or maybe both. Can't remember which.”