Chapter 20

BRIGGS

I twisted the cap off the whiskey, pouring two fingers into a tumbler. The Macallan is an expensive brand, a bit of an indulgence at ten grand a bottle for the forty-year-old Sherry Oak—. ~But I had worked hard for my fortune.

I closed my eyes, savoring the citrusy cinnamon chocolate on my tongue as I tossed it back. The spicy finish flooded my esophagus with a satisfying burn. I splash some more into the glass and settled in my leather recliner.

The house was quiet. I’d grown accustomed to the noise after having my family there for the past two weeks. My mothers were loud, my sisters louder.

But not tonight. They had all turned in early in preparation for their morning departure to the airport.

Layla had disappeared after dinner. She was avoiding me, and I wasn’t sure why. I thought we had a great time out on the lake.

Everything was going well until that boat ended our make out session. She was totally into it. When she climbed on my lap and rubbed her pussy on my cock, I thought I might jizz all over her shorts.

And those tits.

~Holy fuck.~

I confess I’m a breast man. I can’t resist a big set of knockers. I’ve turned down many chicks over the years, simply because their tits weren’t above average size.

Yeah. I’m a shallow asshole. But in my defense, all I wanted a puck bunny for was a quick and dirty fuck. I always had the pick of the bunny patch after games.

Why would I fuck some small-titted girl, when I could have a set of DDs to bury my face in?

Layla’s tits were amazing. But I would’ve wanted her regardless of her bra size. She wasn’t some bunny I was planning to fuck and never see again.

I was falling for my young nanny, and I was powerless to stop it.

But, fuck— Those tits are perfect globes. And her nipples were huge, rosy macaroons that I could sink my teeth into.

~Fuck it.~ I downed the remainder of my whiskey, setting my empty glass on the bar before heading off in search of my girl.

~My girl.

No woman had ever held that title. I’d never met anyone who was worthy of it until Layla came into my life. But I wanted her to have it. I wanted to make her mine.

She had said she wanted me to be her first. My dick throbbed, pressing painfully against the zipper of my jeans as I imagined sliding inside her tight pussy, going where no man had gone before.

And if I had my way, no other man ever would.

I padded up the stairs and knocked quietly on her door. She didn’t answer. I poked my head into the nursery. The boys were sound asleep. No sign of either nanny.

Mary’s door was closed, a light shining underneath.

Maybe she was out in the hot tub. But she was afraid to go outside alone ever since Vlad told her about the night a bear was on the terrace last summer.

I returned to the main floor and was thinking about checking the basement when I noticed a light on in my study. Why would she be in there? I approached the partially open door and peeked inside.

Layla was curled up on the couch, her nose buried in a book. She was wearing a ratty T-shirt and joggers, her sexy feet bare, and a pair of glasses perched on her nose.

I had no idea she wore glasses. She must have contacts.

The cover of her book caught my attention. A muscular guy covered in tattoos was kissing the neck of a woman in a skimpy bra. She was reading smut!

~Interesting.~

Was my innocent little kitten as horny as I was?

She jumped up when I stepped into the room and cleared my throat. She quickly slid her book under the cushion.

“Why are you hiding out in here?” I asked.

“I’m not hiding,” she said. “I like it in here. It reminds me of a library.”

“I’ve no problem with you coming in here to read, Layla.”

“Thanks.” She glanced down at her attire as if she had just remembered what she was wearing. “Oh my God! I’m so embarrassed. I look like a homeless person.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wearing comfy clothes.”

She shifted her feet, pressing teeth into her lower lip while her eyes darted around the room.

“What are you reading?” I asked.

“Oh, just a mystery.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the title?”

“Um—~Murder at the Mall~.”

“Oh, that’s a great book. I read it last season during a long flight.”

“Cool,” she whispered, glancing at the door. “I think I’ll just head up to my room.”

“What do you think of Charlotte?” I asked.

“Charlotte?”

“Yeah, the psychotic janitor.”

“She’s crazy.”

I reached around her to lift the couch cushion. She grabbed my arm but failed miserably in her attempt to stop me from retrieving her book.

“Hm. ~Forbidden Desires~. Doesn’t look like a mystery novel.”

She snatched the book from my hand. “I like erotic novels, okay? It doesn’t make me a bad nanny.”

“I don’t care what you read,” I said. “But I do wonder why you felt you needed to hide it from me.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It just is.”

I stepped forward, pulling her against my body. Her eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan falling from her seductive lips right before I took her mouth. I teased her lips open, plunging deep inside while my hands slipped under her shirt.

She wasn’t wearing a bra. I brushed my thumbs over her nipples, groaning when I discovered how hard they were. My girl was aroused and needy.

I kissed along her jaw to her ear, sucking the lobe between my teeth and giving it a gentle nip. “What do you need, baby?” I whispered.

“I—um—I’m not sure.”

I pinched her nipples, drawing a tortured cry from her throat. “Tell me what you want, Layla.”

“I want you to touch me,” she panted.

“Where?”

“Between my legs.”

“Do you want me to make you come?”

“Yes, please,” she begged.

“With just my fingers, or my mouth too?”

“B-both.”

I closed and locked the door.

She eyed me nervously, her lower lip trembling.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

She nodded, placing her glasses on the end table.

“Take your pants off, honey. Show me your beautiful pussy.”

She pushed her joggers down to her ankles and kicked them off. Her shirt was long enough that it hid her panties.

“Panties off,” I ordered.

“I’m not wearing any.”

I growled, resisting the urge to undo my zipper. My cock was begging for release from my pants—and its severely swollen state. But I didn’t want to scare her away.

I’m a big guy. No exaggeration. And it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Believe me when I say, I’d prefer to lose a couple of inches off the length and the girth.

It’s hard to find condoms and pants to accommodate the oversized monster. And if I have a sexual partner with a small vagina, it can be uncomfortable for both of us.

“Briggs,” she whispered. “Is something wrong?”

“No, baby,” I murmured, kissing her softly. “You just took me by surprise when you said you weren’t wearing any panties.”

“I do that a lot,” she confessed. “I believe in letting stuff air out.”

“Oh yeah?” I chuckled. “You can air your stuff around me whenever you want.”

I eased her down onto the sofa, kneeling in front of her on the floor. She tugged on the hem of her shirt, keeping her ~stuff~ covered.

I reached up, prying the material from her fingers before placing her hands at her sides. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the couch with a soft sigh when I kissed up her calf.

I stopped when I reached her knee, probing the back of it with teasing strokes of my tongue, tiny whimpers letting me know I’d discovered one of her erogenous zones.

I pushed her knees apart, sending her shirt up over her hips. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart,” I whispered, savoring my first glimpse of her elfin pussy.

All pink and smooth, her puffy lips glistening with her arousal. And she was bare, not one pubic hair in sight.

~Thank you, Jesus.~

It’s kind of inappropriate to thank Jesus for something like that. I knew who I really had to thank. My sisters. I doubt Layla could afford a Brazilian wax job.

Bonnie and Blaire are fully aware of my aversion to pubic hair and why I have it.

The first time I went down on a girl, I got pubic hair stuck in my throat. I was fifteen. My moms were at work.

I brought the chick home after school, expecting to have the house to myself. I took her to my bedroom and we got busy. It was the mid-nineties when pubic hair was still common.

But this girl didn’t keep things neat. She had a jungle growing between her legs. I was repulsed. But I really wanted my first taste of pussy.

When I started choking, I got scared and ran out into the hall. Bonnie and Blaire were downstairs in the kitchen. Bonnie ended up having to pull the five-inch-long hair out of my throat.

I refused to give oral to anyone ever again unless they were bare from stem to stern.

“What are you doing, Briggs?” Layla whispered with a nervous giggle.

“Looking at you. I could gaze at your gorgeous pussy all day, but I’d like to taste it if you’re still okay with that.”

“I definitely want you to,” she moaned as I kissed up the inside of her thigh, the sweet aroma of her delicate peach tantalizing my nostrils.

I nudged her knees apart with my shoulders, spreading her wide open. She was fucking perfect. Her clit was engorged, just waiting for my mouth, and her tiny entrance was dripping with her juices, primed and ready for my cock.

But she only agreed to fingers tonight, and she would require quite a bit of preparation before she’d be ready to take me. I spread her delicate petals with my thumbs, running my finger through her warm, wet folds.

One swipe of my tongue between those lips and I was gone. My brain went to mush while my cock begged for relief. Any plan to go slow flew out the window.

I hoisted her legs onto my shoulders, burying my face in the most delicious pussy I’d ever tasted. She let out a long, low whimper, squirming around on the couch, her fingers slipping on the leather.

I reached up, guiding her restless hands to the back of my head while I circled her clit with my tongue, teasing it with light flicks.

She threaded her fingers through my hair, her thighs tightening around my head as she climbed toward her climax. I tongued her entrance, lapping up her juices before plunging inside.

The soft, adorable sounds coming from her mouth escalated to loud moans while she thrashed against me. “Ahh!” she cried. “Briggs! I can’t take this. I think I need to have an orgasm!”

I chuckled against her warm flesh, licking up her slit to her clit. Her fingers dug into my scalp when I sucked the swollen bud between my teeth.

She was so close. But she was having trouble cresting that last hill. I slipped my finger inside her tight channel.

~Fuck!~ She was so tight; I could barely fit my index finger in there.

I bit down gently on her clit. Her rump lifted right off the couch, her pussy clamping down on my finger while she rode out her climax.

I lapped up her juices, fingering her through her orgasm. When I felt her body relax, I lifted her legs from my shoulders.

Her hands fell to her sides, eyes closing as her chest heaved. I pulled her shirt down and climbed on the couch, pulling her into my lap.

“Hey, baby,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey.” She smiled up at me. “That was amazing.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t get mad?”

“You can tell me anything, honey.”

“Before I met you, I had no interest in having sex. I enjoyed reading about other people doing it, but I didn’t ever touch myself, or try to have an orgasm. But now, it’s all I think about when I’m alone.” She covered her face with her hands. “Sorry for lying to you the other night.”

“You needn’t be, honey.” I pried her hands from her face and brushed my lips over hers. “I want to know everything about you, the good and the bad. And masturbating definitely isn’t bad. I want to know all your secrets.”

“Are you going to tell me yours?”

“I don’t have any. All you have to do is type my name in Google.”

“I’m sure there are lots of things about you that the public doesn’t know about.”

“My privacy is important to me.”

“Am I one of your secrets, Briggs?”

“I don’t think it’s anyone’s business.”

“But you wouldn’t want me to tell anyone about us?”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“I’d appreciate it if you kept this quiet for now. It’s for your own protection, Layla.”

“Okay. I should probably go to bed.” She pulled on her pants and headed for the door.

“Don’t forget your lady porn,” I teased, holding up her book.

She snatched it from my fingers, tucking it under her shirt. “Good night, Briggs.”

“What? No good night kiss?”

“Do you want a goodnight kiss?”

“Do you want one?”

“Briggs!”

“What?” I sprang off the couch and grabbed her, pressing her back against the door. She released a low, throaty moan when I crashed my lips against hers, pressing my throbbing erection against her crotch.

I slid my hands under her buttocks and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around my waist, our tongues dueling while I rubbed my cock between her legs.

“I should go,” she panted.

“Did you enjoy the taste of your pussy?”

“What?”

“Your pussy juice is all over my tongue.”

“Hm.” She smacked her lips, her tongue darting out to moisten them. “I’m a bit salty.”

I grinned, enjoying her animated expression as she analyzed the taste of her own pussy.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I whispered. “I was just thinking how cute you are.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed.

“And I think you taste like a juicy peach. Nectar, water, salt, and citrus, mingled with the scent of your skin and your sweat. It’s intoxicating and addictive. I’m already looking forward to the next time.”

She giggled. “You’re crazy, Briggs.”

“I’m crazy about you,” I murmured, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

“I should go to bed,” she stammered, reaching for the door handle. She bolted down the hall like a frightened little mouse. And I didn’t go after her.

***

I stripped down to my boxers and crawled into bed, still kicking myself for letting her go. I was such a coward. But she had looked terrified.

Why? It was not like I told her I ~loved~ her. I said I was crazy about her. Because I was. Why would that scare her?

~She’s twenty.~

~Inexperienced.~

~Never been in a relationship before.~

~She’s a fuck-ing—er, she’s a virgin.~

~Her sister drugged you and had sex with you.~

~She’s the nanny.~

~The media would drag her through the tabloids.~

There were so many reasons to let her go. But I couldn’t. I was falling in love with her.