Nanny for the Neighbors: Chapter 44

When I get upstairs, I head straight to the bathroom. It’s locked. I knock on the door. “Beth? Are you okay?”

She snuffles inside. My stomach drops. Christ, is she crying in there?

“Beth.” I knock again. “Open the door.”

There’s a sigh, the sound of a tap running, and then the lock clicks. Beth pulls the door open and blinks up at me. Her cheeks and nose are pink, and her eyes are shiny. I don’t even think before I pull her into my arms. She’s so soft it’s shocking; her skin, her breasts, her hair all press against me, and I may as well be drowning in an apple-cinnamon scented comforter.

“Why are you crying?” I whisper into her hair.

She laughs, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m PMSing, or something. I cried when I ran out of milk this morning.” She sighs, pulling away. “I can’t believe I got that angry. I am so, so sorry, Seb.”

I stare at her, disbelieving. She’s sorry. Sorry, for being the first person to stand up for me in my entire life.

“Come here.” I take her hand and lead her down the hallway, pushing open the door to my old bedroom. It’s been left practically untouched since I moved out, like a time capsule of my childhood years. My old film posters are still on the wall, and my bookshelves are full of sci-fi paperbacks. There’s a row of collectible model cars lined up on my windowsill.

Beth looks around and laughs tearily. “Holy shit,” she whispers. “You’re a nerd, too.”

I push her gently onto the mattress and sit down next to her, thumbing away the tear tracks on her cheeks. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m more embarrassed, I guess. That was really inappropriate.” She looks down at her hands. “This whole visit was supposed to be about Cami, and I ruined it for her. I’ve hurt her relationship with her grandparents.” I don’t say anything. My heart is beating painfully hard in my chest. “I just got so mad,” she murmurs. “Sebastian, they treated you like shit. And even now you’re grown up, they’re still trying to get into your head. It’s not fair. I—”

I can’t hold back anymore. All of the energy simmering in my body finally releases, and I lean forward, cupping her cheeks in both hands and crushing our mouths together.

It’s not a long kiss—just one hot, hard press of lips—but when I pull away, Beth gasps for air like she’s been underwater.

“What?” she asks breathlessly. Her eyes are fuzzy and out of focus as she looks at me.

“Thank you,” I tell her quietly, sliding my cheek against hers. “Thank you.”

“What… I… you’re not mad?” Her breath hitches as I nuzzle the side of her jaw. She sways into me, leaning against my chest.

“Not at all.” I trail my lips across the side of her pink mouth. Now that I’ve started kissing her, apparently I can’t stop. “Beth. My whole childhood, I thought there was something wrong with me.”

“There wasn’t,” she whispers. “You weren’t the problem, Seb.”

I kiss her again, and this time, she kisses me back with abandon, fisting a hand in the front of my shirt and meeting my lips stroke for stroke. Our mouths go from tentative to desperate, and the kiss gets hot and heavy fast. She falls across my front, and I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her, our tongues sliding together, pouring out weeks’ work of want and lust and frustration.

Christ. I knew Beth was interested in me—the girl couldn’t hide her emotions to save her life—but I never dared to dream that she wanted me just as much as I want her.

“You’re okay leaving Cami downstairs?” She breathes between kisses.

I nod against her mouth. “She’s asleep. I’m hoping some alone time together will help bring Mum around.” I press a little sucking kiss at the crook of her neck, and her eyelashes flutter.

“Cami does have that effect,” she agrees, tipping her head back to give me better access. Taking the hint, I trail my mouth down the soft curve of her neck, sucking at the pulse beating under the thin skin. She shivers deliciously, and my heart catches in my chest. I can’t believe that I’ve been missing out on this.

My hand is still locked on her thigh. I slide it up an inch, playing with the hem of her dress. She looks down at my fingers, her breath freezing.

“Is this okay?” I murmur, slipping my hand back down again.

She laughs breathlessly. “Yeah. It would be more okay if you had a condom.”

Wordlessly, I pull my wallet out of my jeans and flip it open, shaking out a little foil packet.

Beth goes still. “Now, why on Earth would you bring that to your parents’ house?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that Cyrus brings them back from the club and stuffs them into everybody’s pockets in case we ever get lucky?”

“Probably.”

“He doesn’t.”

She sucks in a breath, then shuffles around to face me, meeting my eyes. “How long?” She whispers.

“Since I first saw you,” I admit. There’s no point lying, anymore.

Her pupils bloom. She tips her mouth up for another kiss, and this time it’s hotter, deeper. Needier. I slide my hand up to her chest. She’s not wearing a bra, and I can feel the softness and warmth of her breasts under the light cotton of her dress. I squeeze slightly, and her head falls back. Red curls cascade over her face.

“Seb,” she murmurs.

I pull her closer to me as she trails her palms up the plane of my chest. She undoes my top button and nibbles at my throat. A shudder rolls through my body. I pull her mouth back to mine. We make out like teenagers, running our hands over each other, losing ourselves in the kiss. I don’t remember the last time I had a kiss like this. A kiss that makes my lungs ache, because I can’t bear the thought of pulling away. Soon, she’s shivering and moaning against me, rocking her hips slightly against my bedspread. My erection is so hard it physically hurts; I palm myself through my trousers, wincing at the thudding throb of blood. I feel like I’m about to split my damn skin.

And who can blame me? This, right here, is what I’ve been dreaming of for weeks. Ever since Jack and Cyrus invited Beth over for dinner, and I first heard her soft moans filtering through the walls. The past few weeks have been torture. Every night, I lie in bed alone, imagining what’s happening on the other side of my bedroom wall.

Not anymore. Now, finally, it’s my turn.

I wrap my arms around her waist, and she jolts in surprise as I pull her into my lap. “I’ve got you,” I murmur, and she relaxes against me. My fingers play under the hem of her dress, tickling up her sensitive thighs, tracing over her underwear. It’s wet, and made of some soft, slippy material—satin, or silk. I hook my fingers underneath the fabric, cupping her hot core.

“Jesus,” she mumbles, pressing her face into my shoulder. I can feel her breath fluttering against the side of my throat. “Jesus, Seb. Please—”

“Please, what?” I ask quietly. “What do you need?”

“Just—” She flexes her hips as I stroke my fingertips up and down her moistening lips, getting them slick and warm. “Touch me. I need you.”

I press another kiss to her neck, then gently push my fingers inside her. She makes a crying sound and clenches around me, gripping my fingers. I groan, pushing in closer, digging in deeper. She’s so hot and wet inside, like a pool of molten honey. Twisting my wrist, I feel around, stroking her sensitive flesh until my fingertips brush the soft tissue on her inner wall.

“Oh!” she gasps, her whole body jerking against mine.

I smile into her hair and start to curl my fingers, massaging the spot. Her mouth falls open, her hips bucking back into me. “Oh,” she chokes, “oh, shit, Seb—”

“Shh,” I murmur, sliding my fingers free and raising them to my mouth. Her lips part as she watches me suck off her flavour. She tastes hot and musky and sharp. It’s enough to make my mouth water.

“God,” she whispers, her eyes fixed on me. “Seb, please, I need—”

She’s interrupted by my phone ringing. We both freeze. Slowly, I reach into my pocket and draw it out, checking the screen. It’s Marcellus, the dumbass investor trying to micromanage my company. I clench my teeth. Fuck. My boss will be pissed off if I just let it ring.

“Pick it up,” Beth gasps. “It’s fine.”

I look at her for a moment. She pulls back, pushing her hair behind her ears, trying to fix her pretty, heart-covered dress back into place. The fabric slides back down her freckled thighs, covering her up primly.

I don’t like that. Not at all.

I lean in so my breath tickles in her ear. “Better stay quiet,” I mutter, biting her earlobe.

Her eyes widen. “Sebastian, what—”

I slide a hand back under her dress, yanking it up around her hips, and press the Accept Call button. “Sebastian Bright,” I say politely.

“Bright. It’s Marcellus. I wanted to talk to your boss about your pricing in India, but he told me to call you instead.” He sounds annoyed.

“He’s very busy,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. Beth’s gold eyes are huge as I slide my fingers back under her panties, stroking through her hot folds. She’s even wetter than before, soaking through her underwear. I fight the urge to groan.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to lodge my complaint for me, won’t you?” Marcellus snips. “I think what you’re doing out there is disgraceful.”

“Oh?” I graze my lips down the curve of Beth’s neck, teasing my fingertips around her entrance. She shivers deliciously, squeezing her thighs together. They trap my hand in hot, pillowy softness.

“Look, I get that it’s a poor country, or whatever, but I don’t see why they should get such a massive discount. You’re selling programmes at ninety-five percent lower than in the US or Canada!”

“It’s common practice to lower the prices on educational programmes in lower-income countries,” I explain patiently. “The royalties in the rest of the world make up for the loss.”

He sputters. “Yes, but you’re not charging fifty percent. You’re barely charging five. You’re not making any money at all.” He sniffs. “Frankly, I think it’s racist. You know not everyone in India is poor, right?”

“It’s widely considered the sixth wealthiest country in the world,” I agree, sucking Beth’s throat. I can feel her pulse hammering under my lips, and bite down a little. She jolts, then looks up at me reproachfully.

Please, she mouths, trying to screw her hot sex down over my palm. I just kiss her cheek, swirling my fingers in her wetness.

“Well, then. I don’t see why they can’t pay fifty fucking dollars for each of the educational programmes, like the rest of us.”

“Because most users can’t afford them.”

“But you just said—”

“You don’t understand the concept of wealth disparity? Most of the people buying our programmes aren’t billionaires, they’re students in public education. Children or teens.”

“Well, I’m sure the parents can pay for them.” He clears his throat pompously. “I personally think that we should—”

I tune him out as I finally slide my fingers back inside Beth. She’s sweltering hot and unbelievably soft around me. Her eyes fall shut as I start to finger her, plunging in roughly, getting in as deep as I can. God, she feels good.

I realise Marcellus is done speaking. “There’s a very high rate of commercial piracy in many of these countries, particularly India and Bangladesh,” I recite. “Students are often forced or compelled to buy pirated versions of our programmes, which can be out of date or faulty.” Still sawing my fingers inside her, I stretch out my thumb, gently touching it to Beth’s clit. Her eyes widen. She grips at my shoulders, frantic. “It’s better for everyone involved if we make our prices competitive with pirated copies. That way, we still make some small amount of profit, and the students get the information they need.” As I talk, I play with Beth’s delicate nub. It’s engorged and throbbing, slick with her juices, and so full and ripe I feel like I could pop it like a berry. I roll it with my thumb, and she goes crazy, her whole body arching off the bed. A harsh, shuddering gasp falls out of her mouth.

There’s a pause on the line. “You alright there, Bright?”

“Shit, spilled my coffee,” I lie smoothly. “Can I put you on hold a second?” I press the button, then turn to Beth.

“Hold it.” My fingers don’t stop moving inside her, scooping the tender tissue of her slick inner wall.

“I can’t,” she gasps immediately, rutting against my palm. Her face is bright pink, and I can see the strain in every muscle of her body as she shivers against me. “I can’t, I can’t stop it—”

“You can last until the end of this phone call,” I mutter, nosing at her temple. She just moans softly in response as I steal one last kiss, then restart the call.