Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(90)

My head spins, my hands thrown loosely around Zay's neck as I press our foreheads together and he makes a sharp sound in the back of his throat. It's a wild noise, harsh and desperate, kind of like his frantic motions, like the whimper that builds in the back of my own throat.

When the friction of his body against mine sends me over the edge, Zay bites down on that curved space between my neck and shoulder and empties himself with a deep, quivering growl that I can feel all the way in my bones.

I lean back away from him, noticing that the glitter from my breasts has rubbed off all over his face.

“Holy sweet baby Jesus,” he whispers as he looks at me with some sort of awe in his face, blinking quickly and then sliding out of me, turning away while he removes the condom and fixes his pants. “You've got some sort of magic in you, Brooke Overland,” he says with a glance over his shoulder.

I smile, but I don't have a response to that statement.

“Puppets?” I ask because I'm shaking and twisting and falling inside. Falling for Zayden Roth.

Zay nods and lets his mouth curve up into one of his signature smiles.

“You got it, doll,” he says, helping me hop down from the counter.

We eat our food, watch the movie, and end up f*cking through the last half of it.

It's seriously the best night of my entire life. Guess nothing can last forever though, can it?





Aww, man.

I am like totally crazy, head over heels f*cking obsessed with Brooke Overland.

I never smoke. Seriously. Never. Unleeeeeeess, I'm having a day as shitty as this one.

“Dude, what are you even going on about?” Jude asks as I exhale and ash my cigarette into the wood chip area in front of the bay window. I keep checking over my shoulder to make sure none of the kids catch me out here. Uncle Zay is so goddamn cool if they see me smoking, they'll probably take it up like tomorrow. “You're in love with some twenty-two year old girl? That's gross. Why are you even sleeping with somebody seven years younger than you. Isn't that illegal or something?”

“Shut your fat trap, Jude,” I say as I take another drag on the cigarette and then cough. It feels really good to smoke once in a while, but also kind of gross. I feel this weird guilty pleasure as I savor the last cig I have left. I've kept it with me at all times for months, just in case of emergency.

This is so an emergency.

“I didn't say in love, did I?”

“Yeah, you didn't say the exact phrase 'in love', but you listed pretty much every symptom and consequence of being in love.”

“Like you'd know shit about that,” I say, wondering what he's doing while he's talking to me. He might be my boss, but I don't trust this guy for crap. One time, I found out he was actually getting his cock sucked while we had a conversation about my dead parents. That's just plain nasty if you ask me … althoooough I have been known to pick up my phone mid-coitus. Kind of like when Rob called me to ask about my driving up here. I should've let that shit roll to voicemail.

But then I never would've met Brooke.

“I've been in love seven times, you dick. How many for you? Oh, that's right: zero. Or if you count this Brenda girl, then it's one.”

“Brooke, man. Her name is Brooke. Get it right, please.”

“You need to get your ass back here before you ruin this girl's life. Leave her alone, man. You've got a chronic dating problem; don't inflict that on some poor woman with enough shit on her plate.”

“Says the guy who supposedly fell in love 'seven times',” I make quotes with my fingers even though the only person around to see is the neighbor that called animal control on me. I smile tightly at her and she turns away with a huff. “And then left all seven of the girls he was in love with.”

“Exactly. Because I am fully aware that I'm an *. I think part of you wants to believe you're some sort of nice guy or something. Face the facts, Zayden: you're a dick. You might smile and make a lot of jokes, but you're still just a single * from Las Vegas with no money and a condo you can't really afford.”

I roll my eyes and take one last exhale, smoking my precious cigarette down to the filter. I drop it on the porch and crush it out, leaning down to pick up the butt. God knows if I leave it here, one of those dogs or hell, one of the little monsters, will probably eat it. That would be just my luck, wouldn't it?

“I called you for advice, bro, but … that's kind of not what's happening right now. I feel like you're just taking advantage of the situation to insult me.”

“You just don't like what I have to say,” Jude tells me and I hear the jingle of the shop bell followed by the sweet chorus of giggling tourists. Makes me a little homesick. “Look, I gotta go. I'll see you on Thursday or what?”

“Friday probably. Takes me like a whole f*cking day to drive.”

“Say hi to your hairless * for me,” Jude jokes with a laugh just before he flicks the switch on his charm and starts chatting to the women in the shop. “A clit piercing? I think what you mean is a VCH or HCH which I'd be happy to tell you all about. We do require a fifty dollar deposit for an anatomy consult—”

I roll my eyes and hang up on the idiot. He's been known to leave calls connected in pretty awkward situations, such as when he had his grandma on the line and started begging his then-girlfriend to deep throat his cock. Oh, Jude. If I'm a nerdy douche, then he's a dickhead douche. Nothing cute or charming about him at all.