Page 28 of Big Trouble

Her features tighten into an expression of confusion. “What? I don’t think the agency has promotions.”

I shake my head. “Not with the agency. Here with me. With us. You need a promotion here.”

“To what?”

“Girlfriend, fiancé, wife, Clementine’s mom, my lover and the love of my life. Any of those titles work for you?”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“That I fell in love with my daughter’s nanny? Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

Her smile comes on slowly, but then it’s blinding in its brilliance. “I love you,” she says.

“Fuck, I love you too, Killer. You know when it happened?”

She shakes her head.

“That first day when you got in my face and told me you wouldn’t give on my daughter. How could I not love you?”

She lifts her shirt and wipes at her face, then gives me a guilty grin. “Kiss me, Brody.”

“I’m about to do a lot more than that.”

“Oh, thank God. I was beginning to think it would never happen.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life. Fuck, I want you.”

She pulls off her shirt and flings it on the floor. “Then have me.”

“Do you have any idea how crazy you’ve been making me with these damn yoga pants?”

“No, I had no idea.”

The fact that this gorgeous woman wants me too makes me nearly hold my breath. For so long I’ve been keeping women at arm’s length, away from my daughter and away from my wallet.

But in truth, I was just waiting for her to blow into my life and flip everything upside down. Especially my heart.

I lay us down on her bed, me holding most of my weight off of her, but I’m cradled between her thighs. Right where I’m meant to be.

I can’t help myself. I take her mouth with mine. No hesitation, no mercy—just raw hunger as my tongue finds hers. Her hands clutch my shoulders. I grab her thighs and lift her, making her wrap her legs around my waist.

Even through the layers of our clothes, I can feel the heat of her pussy. I grind into her, swallowing her cries. Then, somehow, I pull back, resting my forehead to hers. Both of us are breathing like we ran a marathon.

“Winnie,” I rasp. “I want you. So fucking bad. But I need to hear you say it. I’m not going to push you for anything further than you’re ready for.”

Her palms press against my back, holding our bodies together. “I want you too.”

I lean back enough to meet her eyes. “Say it again.”

“I want you, Brody.”

That’s all I need. I kiss her again—hard, claiming, deep—then somehow manage to pull myself off of her. I start pulling off my clothes. I point to her yoga pants.

“Take them off. Panties and bra too. I want to see all of you.”

She nods as she stands from the bed too.

We undress in silence, communicating only through the movement of our eyes as we devour each other’s bared skin.