The Nanny with the Skull Tattoos (16 page)

“I just don’t know if I can give you what you want,” he said. “I’ve got school, and midterms coming up, and—“

She scowled. “Knock it off. Either you want to be with me, or you don’t. So which is it?”

His heart hammered in his chest. Mind racing, he tried to assemble the pile of puzzle pieces that was his thoughts. He wished he could give her the answer that she wanted. He needed more time to think about it, though. He opened his mouth to tell her.

She balled her hands into fists. “I want
you
, Max. I don’t even know why, because you make me fucking crazy, but I do. I want you.” She leaned toward him. “Do you even know what today is?” Her eyes burned into his, pleading with him.

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “Your birthday?” he guessed.

Savannah rolled her eyes. “Are you serious?” She pushed her chair back and stood from the table, pacing back and forth. “I asked you out to the movies. I made you dinner. I even bathed Chloe and put her to bed. Do you really think that I would do all of that for you if it was
my
birthday?”

Max lifted his shoulders. “I’m exhausted, Savannah. Can we not do riddle hour?”

She scowled. Stopping in front of him, she leaned down. “It’s
Valentine’s
Day,” she said. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his. Caught by surprise, he closed his eyes. Her hands caressed his face, and his stomach fluttered. She pulled away, eyes dancing. “Don’t make me beg, here. Are you gonna be my freakin’ Valentine, or what?”

Max sat on the couch, a spring from inside poking him in the butt. He shifted, but the movement only made it worse. Savannah sat next to him, close enough that he could just feel the heat from her body and he could put his arm around her shoulders if he wanted to. Their bodies didn’t actually touch, though. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. His heart thumped in his chest. She sat with her knees drawn to her chest, her face smooth and peaceful. Her eyes bore into the computer screen. Max couldn’t remember which movie she had picked. It was some kind of chick flick. He swallowed hard.

His fingers twitched. Maybe he should put his arm around her. That would be date behavior, especially on Valentine’s Day. She probably wanted him to, but after her confession in the kitchen, he doubted she would ask him. Then again, she could be pretty bossy—in the best possible way. He smirked. Savannah was the most feisty, passionate, caring woman he had ever met.

His heart fluttered in his chest. Warmth pooled through him. He stroked at the stubble growing on his chin, tilting his head to the side. She was pretty amazing, he mused. Chloe adored her. His mind flicked to the night before Christmas when, too broke to buy a tree, she had painted one for them. A smile spread across his face.

“What’re you smiling about?” she asked, nudging him gently with her elbow.

He turned toward her, the smile remaining on his face. His heart galloped in his chest, but before he could lose his nerve, he made himself say it. “You’re amazing.” He lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders, drawing her in closer. Holding his breath, he waited for her to tell him not to get too grabby or something equally Savannah, but she only nuzzled her head onto his shoulder. His heart beat even faster, something he hadn’t thought possible. He swallowed hard, hoping she couldn’t hear it pumping so hard through his arm. There were arteries and veins in there, just waiting to betray him. He wanted to be as smooth as she had been in the kitchen, totally cool and not even remotely nervous.

He exhaled, his chest falling rapidly. He was never going to be smooth. He shook his head at himself in the darkness. Trying to be anything other than himself would just botch the whole thing up. He needed to just relax and let things flow. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye again. She watched the movie, totally oblivious to the fretful burbling going on in his head. He closed his eyes for a second and said a silent
thank you
to whatever powers might be that kept humans from reading each other’s minds.

“So,” he said, his voice catching. He cleared his throat. He needed to come up with a smoother intro. Next time he saw Levi, he needed to remember to ask him for more tips.

“So, what?” she asked, lifting her head from his shoulder to look at him. Light reflected off of her eyes, making them large and luminous.

“I never, like, exactly answered your question,” he said. She cocked her head at him, eyes curious. He resisted the urge to slap himself in the head. He sounded like a high school kid. Clearing his throat again, he forced himself to be more direct. “You asked if I would be your, um, Valentine.” He swallowed hard, wondering why it all sounded so cheesy coming out of his mouth, but when her lips moved, everything sounded sexy.

“And?” she purred, blinking up at him.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say the answer is yes, but—“

She nudged him with her elbow again, twisting in her seat. She didn’t move away from his arm, though. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. “So is that a yes?”

“I don’t have any fancy jewelry, though,” he finished.

She rolled her eyes. “Max, I really hope you know by now that I am
not
a princess.”

“Well, you
do
drive a BMW,” he said, smiling to let her know that he was teasing.

She poked him in the ribs. Flinching away to protect the ticklish spot, he reached over and tickled her sides, fingers wiggling into the ribs under her breasts. She squealed and tried to roll away from him, but he still had his other arm around her. Wrapping her in a bear hug, he pulled her closer, fingers working at the skin under her armpits. She giggled, limp in his arms, unable to escape. He looked down at her, about to tell her that she couldn’t out-tickle someone who had a two-year-old, when she pressed her lips to his.

His entire body melted away, his lips on hers the only sensation remaining. He floated up toward the ceiling, her warm lips moving against his like butter spread on hot bread. Her tongue darted inside his mouth. She tasted like cool mint and something sweet that he couldn’t name. Her hands slipped free of his hug and went to the side of his face. His fingers traced the smooth skin at the small of her back. He couldn’t remember lifting up her shirt.

She broke the kiss, lips trailing hot kisses along his neck. She nibbled at the sensitive skin, and he melted further in her arms. Moaning, he felt himself harden. He arched against her as her lips grazed his ear.

“Max,” she breathed.

“Uh-huh,” he said. He felt woozy, as if he had too much to drink and too much cough medicine on top of it. Fighting to get to the surface, he shivered as her hands stroked his hair.

“Don’t freak out,” she whispered.

“Okay,” he said. He ran his fingers along the skin of her back. The pads of his fingers touched her bra, and, as if on autopilot, he unclasped it.

“I love you, Max,” she said into his ear, her lips moving against the sensitive skin.

He froze, hands at either side of her ribcage. His heart slammed in his chest.

“I said
don’t
freak out,” she said, straightening in his lap. She lifted her shirt off and tossed it onto the floor behind her. Taking his hands in hers, she brought them to her breasts. The skin of his palms roved over her nipples. He cupped her breasts and her back arched. She thrust her hips, and he moaned. Her fingers went to the waistband of his jeans. Running her hands along the band, her fingers tracing the skin underneath, she pressed her lips to his again. Max arched into her, his heart slamming in his ears.

He tried to think through the red tide of lust that washed over him. Savannah unzipped his pants. Her hand dipped into his boxers, soft and silky fingers curling around him. He swallowed hard, eyes closing as her hand slid up and down. His hands fell limply, grazing her thighs. She squeezed her fingers and his breath caught in his throat. The world shrunk to her in his lap on the couch. His blood boiled through his veins.

Hands cupping her butt, he lifted her and laid her down on the couch. Crawling on top of her, he unbuttoned her jeans. She watched him with dark, wet eyes. Her arms reached out for him. In a hurry, he slid out of his own jeans, then pulled hers off. The clothing landed somewhere on the floor, a cloth puddle in the darkness.

Max tilted his head, his arms suspending him above her. His eyes met hers, one eyebrow twitching in question. She nodded, and he entered her.

It felt different from the first time. This time, they knew each other. Her words spun in his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut, blocking them out. He could worry about it later. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he hugged her to him. His thrusts were slow and deep, more sure of the rhythm she liked. Savannah moaned in his ear, encouraging him. He wondered how much of a bad-ass she would think he was if she knew that she was only the second girl he had ever been with.

Pushing the thought away, forcing his mind to close shop, he let his body take over. Her fingers twined in his hair, though, and her lips whispered the words again.

“I love you.”

Panic fluttered through him. He remembered the time that Nicole had told him she loved him. Nicole got mad when he didn’t say anything back. She expected him to say it, and mean it. He worried that Savannah expected him to reciprocate. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want to make her feel bad. His heart twisted at the idea of hurting her again. If she had waited, maybe even a few weeks, things might be different. He might be able to tell her that he loved her, too. As it stood, he didn’t know
what
he felt.

He swallowed hard. He was a scumbag, he surmised. He was having sex with a girl who he didn’t love. All of the guys he knew did it, all of the time, but it felt wrong with Savannah. She deserved better, someone who could give themselves back to her the way she gave herself.

“Max,” she whispered in his ear.

His throat tightened. His muscles locked up. He braced himself for her outrage. He wondered how he was going to explain to Chloe when Savannah left again.

“
Max
,” she whispered more urgently.

He blinked. “Yeah?” he choked out.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, running her fingers along his jawline. “Are you okay?”

He swallowed hard as he searched for the words. This was it. She was prodding him to say it back. He needed to be honest.

“Max,” she said, tilting her head up at him. Her dark eyes searched his. A frown creased her forehead. “What’s going on?”

He realized that he had stopped. His arms shook as they supported his weight above her. She moaned as he slid out. He rolled away from her, to the other side of the couch.

She sat up on her elbows, an eyebrow raised at him. “Why did you stop?”

Max ran a hand through his hair. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He exhaled, tipping his head back. Her hand touched his knee. He looked down. She sat in front of him, on his side of the couch.

“You’re freaking me out,” she said. The corners of her mouth twitched in an attempt to smile, but the concern in her eyes killed any attempt at levity.

He wondered if he was having a panic attack. With each breath, his chest felt tighter. His body felt frozen, and his heart slammed in his chest. He knew what he needed to say. He just didn’t know how to say it.

Leaning his head against the couch, he closed his eyes for a moment. He needed to gather his thoughts. Every move he made was just making things worse, though. The longer he waited to say something, the more he was going to hurt her.

“Sorry,” he breathed.

She ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

A warm tingle ran down his spine. His eyelids drooped even heavier. His neck and shoulders relaxed more, his head resting fully on the cushioned back of the couch. Savannah stroked his hair, humming. He didn’t recognize the song, but it relaxed him further. He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes. Slowly, he sat up.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

She smiled. “It’s all good. I know you have a lot to live up to, from last time.” Her eyes danced, and her fingers traced down his thigh.

Max sucked in a ragged breath. His heart slammed in his chest. His hand caught hers, gently. He twined his fingers with hers. “I just don’t wanna rush things,” he said.

Savannah snorted. “Isn’t it a little late for that,
papi
?” She scooted closer to him. Using her free hand, she traced his lips with a finger. “Now, where were we?” She reached down, wrapping her fingers around him again. He felt himself harden, blood pumping down into his groin.

“Savannah,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t think when you do that.”

She laughed. “That’s kind of the point. Stop thinking so much.” Loosening her hand from his grip, she grazed her fingernails along the sensitive skin of his testicles.

He arched into her touch, his brain lurching into fuzzy static.

“You’re worse than a woman,” she said. “See what happens when you just stop thinking?” She climbed into his lap and guided him inside of her again. Thrusting against him with her hips, she put her hands on his shoulders. Her long black hair tumbled down her back. His hands gripped her waist and he sucked in another unsteady breath. Her breathing matched his. His pelvis moved to meet her thrusts.

“Are you trying to distract me?” he asked, forcing out each word one at a time.

She shook her head. “I’m just trying to get you to relax for once.”

For a moment, he thought he would. He felt himself melting away, his thoughts blurring into each other. Maybe he
could
just let go. Maybe it didn’t really matter that he didn’t feel the same just yet. She hadn’t exactly started yelling at him. Maybe she didn’t care.

“What in the world are you thinking about?” she asked him.

He opened his eyes. “Nothing,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

She snorted. “Your face looks like you’re in pain.”

Max scoffed. “How do you know that’s not just my sex face?”

“Because,” she said, “last time, you were with me the whole time. Tonight you keep going somewhere else. What are you doing, making a list of bills you need to pay?” She tried to smile, but worry darkened her face.

He slowed, shoulders slumping. Maybe he couldn’t just let it go, after all. “It’s not a big deal.”

Savannah looked at him as if he had told her that the sky had turned green. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Come on, Max. What’s wrong?”

He sighed. No matter what he did, he just kept finding ways to hurt her. “I just think we should maybe slow down, a little.”

Blinking at him, she stopped altogether. “What does that mean?”

He licked his lips. Taking a deep breath, he kept his hands on her waist. He needed to make it clear that he wanted her. He just didn’t want to ruin anything again. “I just think that maybe we’re moving too fast.”

Cocking her head, she studied him. “Again, English, please.”

Anxiety thrummed through him. He shifted in his seat, feeling as wiggly as a kid with ADHD. Maybe he needed medication, he surmised. Maybe he was really just no good at dating. He took another deep breath. “It’s just that, I can’t exactly give you what you want here.”

She pressed her lips together. Still watching him, her eyebrows furrowed. “What, exactly, is it that you think I want?”

His shoulders sagged. Here it was. The moment he had been trying to avoid. In a flash, he could see her stomping away, slamming into her room to pack her bags and leave him again, for good. He gritted his teeth. Maybe he deserved to be alone. He clearly couldn’t make any woman happy, even one as wonderful as Savannah.