Page 32 of Worst Nanny Ever (Babes of Brewing #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY

HANNAH

My first thought as Travis thrusts into me, his big dick stretching me perfectly and my ass stinging slightly, in a perfect, heady mixture of pleasure and a drop of pain: Yes. Yes. One thousand times yes.

My second thought, in the back of my mind: This definitely wasn’t supposed to happen.

But I can’t think about that now. Not when he’s rubbing me in all the right ways, in all the right places.

The stool I’m leaning on screeches a little as it gets shoved a half inch across the hardwood floor. I push back into him, and he gathers my hair with one of his big hands, pulling but not yanking, as the other reaches between my legs and rubs me.

He bends forward, going impossibly deeper with his next thrust and says, “You feel so damn good.”

His voice rumbles through me, and it’s as if I’m being engulfed by him in all the best ways.

He pulls nearly all the way out, then thrusts back in, tugging slightly on my hair as he does, and I nearly come on the spot.

Pleasure spirals through me, blurring the edges of my vision, as I hold onto that stool for dear life.

I look over my shoulder at him, taking in the intensity of his expression as he fucks me, but when he sees me looking back, he bends over and kisses me passionately, his dick buried inside of me.

He’s still kissing me as he pulls out and thrusts back in, his fingers working me. It feels so intense, I let out an inhuman moan that he swallows with his kiss.

The stool gives another sound of protest as it jolts across the floor, closer to his drum kit. Are we going to fall into the drums? Knock them over?

He thrusts in again, his mouth finding my neck, and I forget about the drums, and where we are, and anything other than the way he’s making me feel.

His hair brushes against me as he moves inside me again, and then the stool topples over. In a split-second reaction, he swings an arm around me and tugs us back, maneuvering our bodies as we’re falling so I land on top of him, his dick still buried in me from behind.

“Oh my god,” I say, pulling up off him and getting up. “Are you okay?”

He groans, taking a few deep breaths, but then says, “I will be if you keep fucking me.”

I don’t question him. He undoubtedly banged his head and his back, but the man knows what he wants. And right now he wants me.

I climb onto him, lowering down onto his dick, and his hand finds my hip, curling around it as I set my pace, taking him in deep at this new angle, staring intently into his eyes as I take his dick.

He leans up and sucks one of my nipples as I move over him, grazing his teeth over it slightly before moving on to the next. And it’s that slight rasp of his teeth against my nipple that makes me come again without warning, clenching against him.

I cry out, the sound reverberating through the room .

His hips jerk up once, twice, and then he buries himself deep inside me and sighs into my neck before kissing it.

I feel dizzy with pleasure, but after a moment I pull off him. I start to get up, but he tugs me back down to lie with him on the floor of the music room.

“Let’s not let reality intrude yet,” he says gruffly, running a hand over my hair and my shoulders as I settle against his chest.

“Did you get a concussion?” I ask, half meaning it. “Are these the ramblings of a contused mind?”

“Probably.” He laughs as he continues gently caressing me, and my heart feels drunk and woozy in my chest. I remind myself that we agreed to only one night, and Travis is, unfortunately, a man of his word, but my heart doesn’t want to listen.

It’s a greedy bitch, and it’s taken a liking to this man.

Alarmingly, I don’t just like him when he’s like this, at the edge of chaos and spilling over, but also when he’s planning his meals and making ridiculous rules.

I like all the little parts that form the puzzle that is Travis Thomas.

I tilt my head up so I can get a better look at him. “Seriously, are you okay? You must have gotten hurt when we fell down.”

“I’m better than okay,” he says, tugging me closer. “This was exactly what I needed.”

Not quite the same as Hannah, you are perfection itself and the only person who could help me get my groove back , but then again, I’m the one who said this was just for the night, and I’m not blind to the fact that Travis has his own issues.

He angles his head to look me in the eye. “Will you stay a little longer? If it’s only going to be like this between us tonight, I want it to last as long as possible.”

“Yeah,” I say, feeling my heart do strange things in my chest. Trying to grow maybe. Or break. Or figure out if it’s the Olympic gymnast of hearts and can do both things at the same time .

He takes off the condom and knots it, and I pull my dress back on and take the condom from him.

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” he says, as if I’m going to be disgusted by the condom we used together.

“I need to pee afterward, or I’ll definitely get a UTI, and I have terrible insurance.”

Guilt ghosts across his face. “You need insurance? Maybe I can?—”

“I have to pee,” I say, my heart thumping hard in my chest, because this conversation is driving in the wrong direction, ready to crash against a wall.

I don’t want to be a messed-up crash test dummy.

So I hurry to the bathroom and hide the condom beneath a mound of other trash, then take care of business and wash up.

Before I go, I change my mind and knot the trash bag so I can take it out.

The last thing we need is for Ollie to find the condom and ask what it is.

With our luck, he’d probably bring it up to Mrs. Applebaum, who already thinks we’re deviants.

Travis is waiting outside for me in a T-shirt and some athletic shorts, looking thoroughly undone. I did that, and for a second I let myself soak him in, even though I can already tell he’s freaking out.

“Are you okay?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not the one who fell onto his back with an actual person on top of him.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, but there’s something in his eyes that suggests he’s not fine.

“You think this was a mistake,” I say flatly.

His eyes are full of regret, and my body starts trembling slightly, which makes me furious with myself.

“Not a mistake,” he says, shaking his head. “But I feel like a selfish prick for putting my own needs before Ollie’s.”

“What?” I ask, my temper heating up. “Why is this a problem? You think I’m going to get so addicted to your dick I’m going to start stalking you like those Ships Ahoy people? Or are you worried that I’ll take off and leave Ollie? Disappear from his life? You really think I’d do that?”

He looks over at me, his eyes impossibly sad. “His mother did.”

I wrench my hand from him as an old pain threatens to split me open “I would never do that to him. Especially not over a man. You’d have to fire me to keep me away from him. I am nothing like Lilah.”

He swears. “I know you’re nothing like her. Not in the ways that matter. I just…”

“What are the ways that matter?” I snap.

He looks pained. “You know that line between control and chaos?” He pauses, as if he expects me to nod. I don’t. “Both of you are on the chaos side.”

“Oh, does she not clean to your satisfaction either?”

“I don’t mind doing the cleaning. I like it.”

For some reason this infuriates me even more. Possibly because it makes him a unicorn of a man, and he basically told me he doesn’t want me.

I hold his gaze. “You said you knew Lilah was going to wreck your life when you first met her. What did you think about me? What was my vibe?”

Emotions I can’t read pass through his gaze, until regret settles in as if it’s comfortable there. “That you were a hurricane that could blow my life apart.”

He might as well have slapped me across the face. I take a step away from him, hurt radiating through me.

But I’m no coward. I learned long ago to slap back when someone hurts me. To hit them before they can hit me again or turn their back and leave forever.

Lifting my chin, I say, “I’ve never met someone so afraid of living. Now, I’m going to take off before I do something else I regret. But guess what? I’ll see you tomorrow, because I don’t flake on people I care about. I’m talking about Ollie, obviously. Not you.”

“I understood,” he says, his jaw flexing. “Let me walk you out.”

“To make sure I leave? Are you worried I’m going to hide in your bushes so I can sneak in and take photos of you sleeping?”

“I want to make sure none of my dad’s scary superfans are waiting out there,” he says. “I’ve been worried about that all day. Believe it or not, I care about you. A lot. ”

“Let me guess. Do you feel that way against your better judgment?”

“Yes,” he replies tightly. “Because you. Work. For. Me.” He sucks in a slow breath. “Tonight was incredible. Beyond incredible. But yeah, it was a mistake. I’m already enough of a failure as a father. I don’t want to mess up the one situation that’s actually making Ollie happy.”

Some of my anger cools, leaving me frustrated and uncomfortable in my own skin. Anger, I can live with—it’s actionable—but sadness and confusion just plain suck.

“You already did ruin it,” I say.

He reaches for me, but I shake my head. “Like I said, I won’t be leaving him. But this thing we’ve been doing…we need to keep our distance from each other.”

“Hannah.”

“You know I’m right. By the way, I’m bringing my friends over with me tomorrow. My real friends.”

Hurt burns in his eyes, but he nods once. “Ollie told me.”

He doesn’t say anything else. He just walks me to the door. I don’t object when he follows me out, but I do take a little pleasure out of completely ignoring him .

I drive home with stinging eyes, but I take some pride in the fact that I don’t cry until I’m at home alone in my bed.