Five Men and a Nanny: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 4
“There, isn’t that nice? Nice blanket, nice and warm. You can relax now, okay?”
But she won’t stop staring at me. She’s breathing through her pursed lips, making a whooshing noise with every breath.
“If you keep that up, you are going to hyperventilate,” I tell her. “Is there anything else you can do? Something else that calms you? You have a Xanax or something?”
“Can you make me come?”
I pause, wondering for a moment if this is all part of Brock’s plan. Is she a plant? A prostitute? Did he hire her?
But the fear in her eyes is definitely genuine. The connection between us is pulsing, and that’s definitely real. If she is a hooker, she’s a great one.
“Did you say—”
“Yes,” she says quickly. “I know it sounds weird. You don’t know me, but that’s okay, right? But it relaxes me. And right now… is that too crazy? I just feel like…”
“Honey, if that’s what you need, you have come to the right place,” I smile. “You just relax and let me get you off.”
And I’ll be damned if she doesn’t just lie back in her seat, pressing the button to recline it like a pro. She tugs the blanket over her and then draws my hand to her hot little crotch. Her skirt slides up over her knees as she guides my fingers toward the pulsing, damp mound of her sex.
When the flight attendant passes us, I just shake my head at her in warning. I don’t want her crappy champagne. I don’t want her interrupting me.
My fingers slide over the damp silky fabric of her panties, my pinky tracing a line up her smooth, velvety thighs. She presses her lips together and sighs through her nose, breathing more deeply than she was before.
“That’s it, girl,” I murmur, close to her shoulder.
“No... more than that,” she complains, brushing my hand aside and jerking her panties down. When they’re almost to her knees he grabs my hand again and presses it against her swollen, slick lips. “There. Please.”
I’m hard as a rock, practically coming in my pants as I glide two fingers between her swollen lips. She is so juicy and thick, ready to be fucked. I briefly consider picking her up by the hips and jamming her onto the head of my cock, but something stops me and it isn’t Royce’s stupid fucking rules. She was so nice to give me explicit directions, I figure the least I can do is obey.
My fingers slide against her pussy, opening her up while my index finger circles the tiny pearl of her clit. She thrusts against my fingers, encouraging me to go little harder, a little faster. When I dip down toward her sweet, dark hole, she clamps her thighs around my hand.
“Not there,” she breathes with her eyes still closed. “Stay on my clit, Trey. Make me come. Do it.”
My mind is racing, but I just do what she tells me. Who is this woman? She bosses me around like she knows me or something.
Her hips grind around in circles, running counter to the motion of my finger. I feel her juices gushing, coating my fingers in her sweet nectar.
“Yes, yes,” she begins to moan. “That’s perfect. That’s exactly… unnnnnhhh!”
I am almost sorry to see her come, but completely enchanted too. I don’t want it to be over, so I try to memorize everything… The way her eyelashes flutter. The way her chin rises as her mouth opens. The urgent beating of her heart at the pit of her throat.
She jams her hands down against mine, holding me still as her back arches and her pelvis rocks. Hot, sticky wetness coats my palm. My dick jumps painfully, practically lurching toward her.
Finally she slumps, spent. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, turning to me with a faint smile as she reaches down to pull her panties back up. She nudges my hand out of the way and smooths her skirt down like nothing ever happened.
“Thank you. I feel so much better,” she smiles through a satisfied yawn.
“My pleasure,” I tell her honestly.
Without another word, she curls her knees up in the oversized seat. A few seconds later she’s snoring sweetly, her face untroubled and relaxed.
I draw my hand up to my face to smell her, breathing deeply that secret musk she shared with a complete stranger, just like that.
What an incredible creature.
Chapter 5
Royce
Sully appears in the doorway, blocking it out almost entirely. He’s enormous, practically doorway-sized himself. He even fought MMA for a time until our attorneys talked him out of it. It would just be too easy for him to brain some poor guy and end up on the other end of a lawsuit. We are always being targeted like that. We can’t ever afford to do what we want, it seems.
“What’s up? I was about to go down for a swim. You want to race laps?”
I hop off the treadmill, wiping the back of my neck with a towel. Sully glances over the free weights, obviously tempted. There are few things he likes more than a challenge.
“Actually, I don’t really have time,” he admits sadly. “I need to be in Detroit in a couple hours.”
“I thought the deal was done?” I ask absentmindedly, punching in directions to the elliptical. Out of the corner of my eye I can see us both in the full-length mirrors along one wall. He may be younger than me, but I’m still holding together pretty well. I could take him in the swimming pool. Maybe only by half a second or two, but I’m pretty sure I could still beat him.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. But now there’s something about views across the river toward Windsor… the casino… all that crap. I gotta go make sure everybody knows who’s in charge.”
“You’re in charge,” I remind him. “Don’t let those Canadians boss you around. They seem polite but… you know.”
He holds his hands out helplessly. For all his size and strength, he is always legitimately surprised when people want to take advantage of him. He takes it a little too personally, I think.
“Right? I mean, how far does that politeness thing go? They’re not going to take me for another half a million, I can tell you that.”
I snap the heart rate monitor onto my ear lobe and start pumping against the highest level of resistance. I know I am supposed to start out slow, but why bother? I like to just go right for it, start right in.
“So, can you take care of the nanny?”
He’s not looking at me, so I’m not entirely sure what the hell he is talking about.
“Nanny?” I repeat.
“She should be here around eleven. I told her to just come up here. I hope that’s okay. So you have, like, ten minutes.”
“Wait, are you fucking kidding me?”
I jump off the elliptical, and the foot pads keep circling from the momentum for a couple of seconds as though there’s a ghost on the machine.
“Yeah, August vouched for her. She’s cool. She’s just here to do interviews.”
I look at myself again in the mirror. I can’t interview anybody right now. I look like a gym rat with this sweat staining my shirt in a V. But even that is beside the point.
“It’s great that August vouched for her… but I thought we were done with this. Aren’t we? Didn’t we all decide to be done with this?”
“No, we didn’t. The last real decision we made—you made—was that we couldn’t all be taking on girlfriends and wives and diluting the family name. The legacy. Right? Isn’t that what you told us?”
I wave the air dismissively. I don’t like his tone.
“We can talk about it again. We can come up with a new arrangement, bring it to a vote. I don’t feel comfortable deciding this on the fly.”
“You’re not deciding on the fly,” he insists. “You’re just staying the course. We’re just trying again.”
I scrub my hand over my face. “Well, maybe Nina was a lesson we need to take to heart. Maybe mother and lover is too much to ask of one woman. Know what I mean? We should consider that a possibility.”
Sully shrugs helplessly. “We’ve got to have a nanny, Royce. We don’t have a lot of other options.”
“We d
o have options!” I object, and come to think of it, I don’t like my tone either. I sound too desperate, too emotional.
“Like what?” he asks.
“Well. We could get, like, three women to take shifts?” I suggest off the cuff. “Maybe grandmothers from Argentina or something. The little sprout will grow up speaking two or three languages anyway right? That’s the way to go.”
He’s avoiding me, I can tell. I walk around to the front of him to force him to make eye contact with me. The big, sad giant. He looks like a cartoon.
“That’s not the best thing for the baby and you know it. One woman. Somebody she can rely on. Someone Sophia can really get to know. Not just shift workers, Royce. Not just glorified housekeepers. A mother.”
For all his size and impressive demeanor, Sully is a real softy. Tenderhearted. That’s why I can’t believe he would want to go through all this again.
“But think of what happened with Nina, Sully. Think about what we all went through, would you? And there’s always the chance she’s going to come back—”
“—She’s not coming back.”
He might as well have closed a door when he said that. It seems so final. I can’t help but wince. It’s hard to think about.
Nina had Sophia with us… with all of us. We searched a long time for her, to try to find someone who would agree to our special proclivities. We needed someone who would agree that an heir for the Worth hotel fortune was a good move. That being the mother of that heir was a really good move.
We offered her everything. Ridiculous amounts of wealth. Even a nanny of her very own to help out with Sophia’s day-to-day needs. Drivers. Cooks. And probably way too much love.
I suppose a stable of five billionaire brothers just turned out to be more than she could handle in the end.
“She’s not coming back, Royce,” Sully repeats softly. I know he’s saying it in the hopes it’s going to get through to me. But there are just some things I’m never going to be ready to really hear.
“So... what? We’re just giving up? Just finding Sophia a new mom? And calling her a nanny? Or girlfriend? Consort?”
“I don’t know why you need to put it that way, but if that’s how you want to say it… Yes. I suppose that’s a legitimate way of describing it, Royce. So can you interview her?”
“And what about everything else? Did August say she was cool with all of that? The rest of the package?”
Sully tips his head back to look at the ceiling. “Can you just do it?”
“You didn’t tell him, did you,” I accuse him. I realize as soon as I say it that it’s totally true. Sully definitely did not tell August that our intention is to have Sophia’s nanny/mother also be our shared lover. It’s the only way to make sure we are not creating more dead ends of the gene pool. That’s why we’ve all agreed.
“I don’t need to tell him. He already knows. He wouldn’t have sent someone who wasn’t mentally prepared for this.”
“The way Nina was prepared? Remember, she just gave up, Sully. She had been through the whole thing… all the psych evaluations, all the wooing, pretty much everything we could think of. She signed documents saying she was ready. And in the end, she wasn’t ready at all.”
Sully just stands there, taking it all in. I know he feels like I’m beating up on him, and maybe I am. But I’m still mad. Am I mad at Sully? Maybe not, but he’s definitely closest to me right now.
“Now you’ve got three minutes,” he informs me, and backs out of the room. He moves slowly, like a cruise ship. He’s almost as immovable too.
I guess I have to do this, so I head quickly over to my locker and try to find a clean shirt. I peel the sweaty one over my shoulders and toss it on the bench behind me.
“Oh!” comes a voice.
I turn around to see two of the biggest, most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. She’s holding my shirt in her hands, because I guess I threw it to her by mistake. I reach out and take it from her, noting the way she bites her lower lip and stares me up and down. Suddenly I feel a little bit more than naked, like she could see through my track pants too.
She blinks, pressing her lips together impishly. Automatically I stand up straighter, tensing my muscles. She smiles just a little bit and a small pink triangle of her tongue comes out to wet her lower lip, sliding slowly across the surface of her full, plush mouth.
We don’t say anything, but somehow the silence doesn’t seem inappropriate. After all, I did just throw my shirt at her. And she did just catch it. She stands there long enough that I can look her up and down, see the faint outlines of her hips under that flirty skirt, see the subtle points of her nipples tracing circles under her blouse as she breathes.
This is supposed to be our nanny?
Finally she raises her eyebrows slightly. I notice the way the freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose seem almost to dance with the tiniest shift in her expression.
Clearing my throat, I realize I’m still holding the other shirt in my hands. But it seems silly put it on now. It seems silly to interview her, also. She’s taken charge of the entire room. What am I going to say, no? When she’s already here?
“Sully says you’re interested in the position?”
Is that a smirk she is giving me? Is that a sexual innuendo?
“Yes, definitely… I’m interested in the position,” she affirms. It is the first time I have heard her voice, and it’s wonderful. A little breathy, a little husky. Not like a smoker’s voice, but something knowing and deep. It seems strange that voice comes out of this delicate, elfish beauty.
But she puts her hands on her hips and shifts her weight to one side, and I can see there’s more to her than that. She is not just a pixie. She is strong. I wonder if she lifts weights or trains in gymnastics or dance or something like that. Maybe a ballerina? I’m not sure we’ve ever had a ballerina.
“Sophia is four months old. How much experience do you have with infants?”
She smiles more broadly. “How much experience do you have with infants?” she challenges me.
At first I want to scoff, but she’s got a point. Obviously she has figured out that if we are looking for a nanny, we expect our hands-on time to be limited to what I can handle.
“We are not all here at the same time. Not in Chicago,” I say by way of explanation. It’s a little evasive, but it seems to be working. “But we all spend time with her. You’ll need to make sure that she is available for us, as our schedules permit. Is that acceptable?”
She shrugs. “Certainly. You’re the boss. Er, bosses. There are how many of you, exactly?”
I’m surprised that August didn’t explain this to her. Neither did Sully, apparently.
“Five,” I say carefully, watching her face for signs of alarm. “And you’re sure you’re comfortable? With all of us?”
Her mouth pops open briefly. She clamps it together again and holds herself a little taller. I can see her mind working it out.
“All of you?” she counters. “In what way?”
I almost feel like challenging Sully to a race in the pool was the wrong call. I should’ve challenged this woman. She’s a much better competitor. I can tell by the way she is sizing me up that she does understand what I’m saying, but she wants clarification for the record.
Or, she’s trying to frame me for sexual harassment.
But something about her makes me want to take the chance. I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings. Nina seemed to understand, she certainly said she understood, but she never really did. She never looked at me the way this person is looking at me. Never like this.
“I’ll be frank,” I start again, clearing my throat. “We did not expect to need a new nanny. Our arrangement with Sophia’s mother was that she would be ours forever. Our arrangement with a replacement would have to be the same. She would have to be… ours. Forever.”
“You mean, sexually?”
She asks it innocently, but with that contradictory su
ltriness right underneath. It’s amazing to watch her be two things at once: innocent and worldly, impish and sexy, direct and indirect, virginal and completely slutty.
Oh my God, she’s licking her lower lip again.
“As a matter of fact, I do mean sexually. We have a lot to protect, as you can imagine. The fewer individual dalliances we have, the fewer chances there are for bad actors.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Bad actors,” she repeats.
“Maybe not intentionally, maybe not at first,” I explain cautiously, “but sometimes people want to leave. They marry then divorce. They are hired and then fired. Or they quit. One of the worst things that could happen would be someone who could split the inheritance away from Sophia. That would be monumentally unfair to her. So we have to protect that. You understand?”
She nods slowly. “You want a nanny… and a concubine?”
I scan her face for clues. Is she disgusted? Not that I can tell. She has an opinion, but I can’t see exactly what it is. I know I do not want to play poker with this woman.
“That’s one way of putting it. You could just think of us as a harem,” I counter. “Probably more than your wildest dreams.”
“Oh, I think my wildest dreams would probably really surprise you,” she sighs wistfully. For just a second, her gaze goes distant as though she’s actually remembering a dream or two. And for just a second, I’m extremely curious about what’s playing in her mind’s eye.
“You want to tell me?” I ask her in a low voice.
“Is that part of the interview?”
“Perhaps,” I shrug.
She snaps back to focus, smiling wickedly. “Mom always said not to give away the whole thing all at once, you know. But I could show you, maybe just a little bit? Maybe just a taste?”
I hear myself grunt in the affirmative. She walks closer to me, slow as a cat. Yes, as her joints move I can see how strong she is. Small and wiry, but strong. Strong enough for all of us? I’m really starting to wonder.