Chapter 21

LAYLA

“Are you looking forward to your first swimming lesson?” Sonya asked.

“Not even a little bit,” I laughed as I pulled my raspberry Pop-Tarts from the toaster and slid it onto a plate.

“How come you never learned to swim?”

“There were no pools where I grew up.”

“Didn’t your parents ever take you to the beach?”

“No.” I glanced up at Briggs’s housekeeper. Sonya was a kind woman. We’d formed a friendship that was sort of like a mother–daughter thing.

She reminded me of Alice, my best friend’s mom. Alice was my rock. The only real mother figure in my life. Until my sister slept with her husband.

I shook away the sad memory. I didn’t want to dwell on my old life.

“I’m sure you’ll learn quickly,” Sonya assured me, patting my shoulder. “If you’re going to live on the lake, you need to know how to swim.

“Especially when the boys get bigger. If they’re anything like their dad, they’ll be out on the boat all the time.

“I doubt I’ll still be here then. They won’t need a nanny forever.”

“You’ll still be here,” she said.

Briggs stepped inside from the terrace before I had a chance to ask her what she meant. He glanced at my plate, scowling as he strode toward me.

“Why aren’t you eating the organic pastries I bought you?”

“‘cause I like the real Pop-Tarts better.”

“They aren’t good for you, Layla. They’re full of sugar and chemicals.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been eating them for twenty years, and I’m still alive.”

“Did you even try the other ones?”

“Of course,” I lied, taking a big bite of my ~chemical~ pastry.

He disappeared into the pantry, returning a moment later with the unopened package of organic crap.

I pushed up from the table, depositing my plate in the sink before darting around him and lunging for the stairs.

But I didn’t stand a chance against a hockey player. He moved like lightning. His arm snaked around my waist, my feet leaving the floor as he carried me toward his bedroom like a football.

“Briggs!” I squealed. “Put me down!”

I heard Sonya giggling. So much for keeping our relationship a secret. He kissed me in front of Mary, so I guess he didn’t care if his staff knew about us.

He dumped me on his bed, climbing on top of me to straddle my waist. “Let’s try this again,” he growled. “Did you try the organic pastries?”

“Yes.” I stared up at him, biting my lip to keep a straight face.

“And then resealed the package?”

“Yep.”

“Do you know what happens to naughty girls who lie?”

I shook my head.

“They get spanked.”

Excitement pulsed through my veins. What the heck was wrong with me? A huge man had me pinned down on his bed, threatening to hit me, and I was turned on.

“Are you wet, baby?” A knowing smirk formed on his lips as his eyes took in my nipples, pointing through my shirt like telltale beacons.

“No.” I brought my arms up to cover my chest. He pried them apart, pinning my wrists above my head with one of his massive hands.

“You’re on a roll with the lies this morning.”

“I need to get ready for my swimming lesson, Briggs.”

“Admit that you didn’t try the organic pastries.”

“Fine. I didn’t try your overpriced, rich people Pop Tarts.”

“Admit that you’re turned on at the idea of being spanked.”

“I’m not turned on.”

“Then why are your nipples hard?”

“It’s cold in here.”

He leaned down, bringing his lips to my neck. I squirmed against him while he nibbled at the sensitive flesh below my ear. He still had my wrists pinned with one of his hands.

“Admit that you’re wet,” he whispered, slipping his free hand between my legs, rubbing me through my thin shorts.

“I’m not wet.”

“Why do your shorts feel warm and moist then?”

“It’s hot in here.”

“I thought you said it was cold.”

“It was until a giant furnace climbed on top of me.”

“A ~giant furnace?~” He lifted his head, singeing me with an incendiary stare. “I’m definitely a giant. You got that part right.”

“I know. I can feel it on my leg.”

“Does that excite you, baby?”

“It scares me a little,” I admitted.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you want to put that thing somewhere that’s way too small for it.”

“You’ll stretch,” he chuckled with a sly wink.

“Not enough to take that monster.”

He kissed me softly, releasing my wrists. I reached up, running my fingers through his hair while he gazed into my eyes.

“I will make sure you’re ready for me, and I’ll go slow. I’d never hurt you, sweetheart.”

“I know, Briggs. I trust you.”

He kissed me again, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth while his fingers slipped under the waistband of my shorts. I cried out, my hips bucking against him when he found my clit.

I finally understood why my mom and sister made the noises they did when they had men in their bedrooms. When he had put his mouth on me the night before, I was blown away.

It’s one thing to read about it in books, but experiencing it firsthand? ~Out of this world.~

“You’re soaked.”

“That must’ve just happened.”

“Sure it did.”

His finger found my entrance. He thrust gently, probing my tight channel while his eyes pinned me.

“Unh-uh,” he whispered when I closed my eyes. “I want you to look at me. That way I’ll know if I’m hurting you.”

I lost myself in his dark, heated pools while he massaged my inner walls, his finger probing deep inside me while his thumb worked my clit.

He nudged my knee with his thigh, spreading me wider before adding a second finger. I gasped when he stretched me, thrusting a little harder while my vag tried to accommodate him.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

I nodded.

The doorbell rang, the loud chimes echoing through the bedroom, followed by a string of curses from the man with his fingers all up in my business.

He withdrew his hand from my shorts with a frustrated sigh.

“We’re going to pick up where we left off, after your lesson,” he whispered.

I pushed at his shoulders. “I need to get up, Briggs.”

He stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean while his eyes burned into mine, the heat between us threatening to ignite into a conflagration at any second.

He took my mouth, his lips devouring me with a quick, intense kiss packed with the promise of more to come.

My swimming instructor was standing in the foyer with Sonya. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the tall, buxom blonde currently eyeing up Briggs like he was on the menu for lunch.

“I’m Veronica Matthews,” she announced, her voice coming out in a deep, throaty whisper.

“Thank you for coming,” Briggs said.

“My pleasure, Mr. Westinghouse.”

“Please, call me Briggs.”

“Should I just go wait by the pool until you two are finished?” I snapped.

“I’m sorry,” Veronica said, tearing her eyes off Briggs and pinning me with a phony smile. “That was terribly rude of me, honey. You must be Layla.”

“Yep.”

“Why don’t you go put your bathing suit on while your dad and I talk?”

~Dad~?

I blinked, my eyes darting back and forth between them. Did she make that assumption on her own, or did Briggs tell her I was his daughter? One look at his guilty face, and I had my answer.

I swiveled on my heel and marched up the stairs.

“Oh, Briggsy!” Sonya sighed before following me to my bedroom.

I opened my drawer, pulling out a conservative, one-piece bathing suit. It seemed more suitable for swimming lessons than any of the skimpy bikinis that Briggs’s sisters had picked out.

“Can I come in?” Sonya asked, hovering in my doorway.

“Um, sure. I need to get changed, though.”

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

“I’m not really comfortable changing in front of other women,” I laughed.

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing to my bed.

I sat.

“I like you, Layla,” she said, dropping down next to me. “I’d like us to be friends.”

“I’d like that too, Sonya.”

“You can trust me, Layla. I’ve worked for Briggs for a long time. I care about him. He’s like a son to me.”

“I know.”

“Briggs is a man.”

“Um, yeah.” I cocked my head, staring at my new ~friend~. “I’m aware of that.”

“Sometimes, men can be a little immature, especially when it comes to relationships. Briggs is no exception. He may be thirty-eight, but he’s never been in love before. Not that I’m aware of anyway. He’s probably terrified.”

“Briggs isn’t in love with me. That’s crazy.”

“Are you sure about that, sweetie?”

“I’m not sure about any of this, Sonya,” I admitted. “But I don’t think Briggs is in love with me. I think he’s just looking for sex.”

“Briggs can get sex whenever he wants it. He wouldn’t go after his nanny if that’s all he was interested in.”

“Then why does he want to keep us a secret?”

“He’s probably trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

“The media.”

“Do you think it’s a bad idea to get involved with him?”

“I’ve never seen Briggs as happy as he’s been this summer. He’s usually a moody old grump. And that’s all you, honey.”

“What about our age difference?”

She smiled sadly. “When I was eighteen, I fell in love with a much older man. He was my dad’s best friend. I’d known him my entire life. Ethan was fifty.”

“Holy crap!” I blurted out.

“I know,” she chuckled. “But he was a hot fifty-year-old. And a wonderful man. The best. We kept our relationship a secret for almost a year. Then I got pregnant.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yep. My parents were ~furious.~ They wanted to have Ethan thrown in jail. My dad actually called 911.”

“Oh my God!” I giggled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. But—your parents are still ~alive~?”

“It’s okay. My daughter teases him about it all the time—Hey,” she elbowed me in the side. “Watch it, girl. I’m only fifty-six.”

“How old are your parents?”

“My dad just turned ninety. Mom is seventy-six.”

“Your dad was kind of a hypocrite.”

“He married a much younger woman, but the age difference wasn’t as extreme, and my mom wasn’t his best friend’s daughter.”

“So, what happened?”

“We decided to run away and get married. I snuck out of my house at the crack of dawn. He was supposed to pick me up at Tim Hortons. But he never showed up.”

“Oh no,” I whispered.

“He was hit head-on by a drunk driver. Killed instantly.”

“Oh, Sonya. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” She wiped a tear. “It’s been thirty-eight years. No man could measure up to Ethan. We were soul mates. Age didn’t matter. I’d give anything to be able to relive that year I spent with him.”

“That’s why you’re shipping us.”

“Huh?”

“Shipping. Rooting for us to be together?”

“Oh.” She chuckled. “I’m not up on young people’s slang.”

“You don’t have grandkids?”

“No. My daughter is a pediatric oncologist at Sick Kids. That’s her life. She’s married to another doctor. They don’t want children.”

“Wow. That’s amazing!”

“I’m very proud of her.” She pushed off the bed. “Anyways, I’m going to get out of here and let you get changed.”

I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the one-piece. My bedroom faced the back of the house. I peeked out the window. Briggs was on the terrace, deep in conversation with Veronica.

My gut churned, jealousy roaring through my veins when she touched his arm. I peeled the ugly suit down, stepping out of it and kicking it across the floor.