10. Jessica

10

JESSICA

" Y our daddy will be in to read to you in a minute. Let's show him how good you are and be ready for bed," I told Max.

He danced around as I tried to wrangle him into his pajamas.

The door opened and Dylan walked in. Max went wide-eyed as he looked at his father.

"What did I miss?" Dylan asked.

Max scrambled under his blankets. I still held onto his top.

"You need to finish getting dressed, you little monkey," I said, trying to grab him. He squirmed and squealed away from me.

Dylan held out his hand. "Maybe I can help."

I gave him the shirt. "Max is full of energy tonight. You might need an extra story."

I got up and started to walk away when Dylan caught my hand. His hand was warm around mine as he held me firmly in place. "Wait for me. We should talk."

I nodded. "Should I wait in your office?"

He shook his head. "Across the hall." He let go of my hand, but I was stunned in place.

Across the hall was his bedroom. He wanted me to wait for him in his bedroom.

"Mr. Anderson…" I started.

"Dylan." The correction was almost a growl.

I nodded. Okay, I would let him think I would wait for him in his room. He was reading stories. I had approximately twenty minutes, maybe longer, depending on whether Max would settle or not. If I were to be in his room before him, I had to get ready. There was the distinct possibility that I was about to make a huge mistake, but it was a chance I was willing to take. I washed my face and brushed my teeth and put my pajamas on.

I scrambled and hurried across the hall when I heard the door to Max's room open and close. Dylan's door was open. I pushed it open but didn't step inside.

"I thought I told you to wait for me," he said.

"It felt weird being in here alone," I lied, sort of. I didn't have to be in his room to know I would have been uncomfortable waiting around in my flimsy pajamas.

He stepped up to me. Close, too close for what would have been proper between an employer and employee. Too close for me to not think about the kinds of things about him I should not be thinking.

He brushed a hair from my brow and I shuddered. It wasn't going to take much for him to seduce me. His hand lowered, and his knuckle traced over the neckline of my tank top.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he said, his voice low and thick.

"You shouldn't be thinking about me at all," I said. But it was hard to speak, hard to breathe with him so very close.

"But I do. And I know you have been thinking about me. Why else are you here in this?"

"I was getting ready for bed. What I'm thinking right now is how many nannies have you seduced? Dylan, this isn't a good idea."

He started to move backward toward the bed, dragging me with him. I couldn't have resisted if I tried. I wasn't sure whether the words were simply so that I could convince myself that this was a bad idea and that I'd attempted to resist.

But I was here in clothes that were nothing more than a thin slip of fabric. My complaints were a fabrication. The butterflies in my middle and the tingles in my core were very much excited with anticipation. The words falling from my lips weren't exactly lies. This wasn't the smartest course of action, but I wanted him too.

"Never. None. I've never once even thought about one of Max's nannies. And I know, don't you think I haven't also gone through all of the eventualities in my head? I'm on your side, Jessica."

As he spoke, he placed the most distracting kisses along my jaw. "I have feelings for you. I know you have feelings for me."

His lips made their way across my cheek. When they reached the corner of my mouth, there was no hesitation. I turned into him so that the next kiss was on my lips. I parted for him, and his tongue slid into my mouth. Our tongues twined and danced.

My hands roamed over Dylan's shoulders and back. Maybe this was a mistake, but right now, I didn't care. I wanted him. I wanted the security his arms and body represented.

I tugged his shirt out from his waistband and pushed my hands up under the fabric so I could feel his skin.

He pushed his hands under my waistband and down into my shorts. He grabbed a handful of my butt and held me close. This was decadent and wonderful. I pulled away from him, but only enough so that I could pull my tank top off and kick my shorts off.

"Jessica." My name sounded like it was stuck in his throat. "Fuck, Jessica."

"I want you. I want you to know that I do. And that I'm not protesting anymore."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. His hands reached out and cupped my breasts. "So beautiful."

He sat on his bed and pulled me against him, guiding a breast to his mouth. I leaned into him as he wrapped one hand around my back and sucked me in. Each pull on my nipple set my entire body on edge and curled my toes. I climbed onto his lap, the fabric of his clothes rough against my sensitized skin.

Dylan rolled me onto the bed. He loomed over me. Our eyes locked together as he slowly, button by button, removed his dress shirt. I shivered with the heat coming off him when he flicked the buckle on his belt open. He took his pants and underwear down with swift movements.

I licked my lips in anticipation of feeling him against me. I reached for him. When he slid against me, I ran my leg up along his until our hips nestled together.

His cock was thick and hot as it pressed against my hip. He made little murmuring sounds as he trailed kisses down my throat. His hands were everywhere, smoothing, gliding over my skin with feather-light touches, grabbing hold and massaging where he could.

I arched into him, wanting his lips on my skin, wanting him. He wrapped his arms around me and crushed me against his chest. His mouth was hot and demanding against mine. I sank my fingers into his hair and lost myself in the pleasure of his body. His kiss was everything I could have ever wanted, the perfect combination of demanding and tender. He took, but he also gave.

I hooked my leg over his hip and tried to close the distance between us.

He skimmed a hand into the small space I could not close up. His fingers found my pussy and began playing with my folds. I wanted his cock, not his fingers. But damn, they felt good as he slid them between my folds. I was more than ready for him.

With a growl of frustration, he rolled away and off the bed.

"What?" I asked frantically.

He stormed off but returned with a wicked gleam in his eye and a silver foil square held between two fingers.

"Right, condom," I said with relief.

He ripped the packet open with his teeth and spit the top somewhere off to the side. The rest of the packet followed as he pulled out the condom. He held it out to me. "Will you do the honors?"

I struggled into a half-sitting position as I took the condom. He kneeled over me. He was amazing, all sculpted muscles with crisp, dark hair that trailed perfectly from his belly button to his exceptional sex. Looking up at him was a pure aphrodisiac. How could I not lust after a man this fine, this powerful?

I rolled the condom on. He was like granite, suede soft and rock hard.

"Now, where were we?" he crooned as he repositioned himself above me. His fingers bit into my thigh as he picked my leg back up to his hip.

I wiggled underneath him. "That feels about right."

"That?" He ran the head of his cock around my pussy, dipping it into my opening with a teasing touch.

"Yeah, that… that feels about right," I practically moaned.

"Or is this better?" he asked as he bumped his cock against my clit.

My eyes went wide and I gasped.

"Oh, you like that?"

I couldn't answer. I could barely nod my response.

He toyed with my clit for a bit more before replacing the tip of his cock with his thumb and then sinking his length deep into me.

I moaned from deep in my throat. What he was doing to me was perfect. My body was lit from within. I felt like I could sing opera and light up the sky. I had no control over how I moved. My hips rolled and my hands grabbed. I panted every breath and let out small gasps of pleasure with each stroke and thrust of Dylan's body against mine. He was a master craftsman, and I was his sculpture. Or maybe I was an instrument and he was the only one who knew how to play me to perfection.

I was at his mercy. He knew how to reduce me to nothing but pulsing throbs and quivering skin. I had no thoughts other than this was so good, so damned good. It felt like I was at orgasmic peak for the entire time. I couldn't imagine that my body could feel any better. I was already in crash mode. My inner walls grabbed and sucked at Dylan's cock.

Dylan kept up a steady, pounding pace. He drove our bodies forward in pleasure. I don't know how he could manage. I couldn't think, and I doubted I was coordinated to do much more than push my hips up to meet him thrust for thrust. And then it all changed. It was as if Dylan downshifted. He built speed and drove into me with greater force.

I wanted to scream like I was on a roller coaster. This was a ride of adrenaline rush and thrilling joy. I exploded. There was no other way of describing what happened to me. I combusted. If I had thought the pulsing and grabbing of my muscles had been on the verge of orgasm all along, then I'd never had a proper orgasm before. How could I? I had never exploded and reformed before in my life.

The sound that left my body didn't hold Dylan's name. I couldn't have even if I wanted to. And I wanted to. This was his triumph.

My name left his lips on a roar as he strained against me. I wanted to laugh as I saw the pleasure of our joining dance across his features. I knew that pain, that pleasure, that perfection.