Esa + Case | Romantic Erotica | Nanny Erotica | Pregnancy Romance

.ch 18 case.

I stand in the doorway, letting darkness cloud me. She's on my couch, in my study, drinking my liquor. What the fuck?

I snap. Moving quickly through the room, I ask, "what the fuck are you doing?" Snatching the crystal glass from her hand. She jerks back and I catch her wrist.

She doesn't move, but her eyes are wild. I don't know if it's the whiskey or her. She's a spitfire, I know it's there deep down.

That's when I notice her lips. They're a deep color from her vamp lipstick. But it's obvious that it's been kissed off. Her lips are puffy and swollen. She has a hickey on her neck.

I lose it and things become a blur.

We've now traded places on the couch and she's over my lap. She fights at first, but then calms herself. With a loud smack, my hand crashes down on her ass. It's so thick, I wonder if she even feels it.

She fights again and it makes me hard. "You think you can take my kids," smack, "and run off," smack, "and fuck some other man?" I practically spit the words at her. I see red marks peeking out from the bottom of her dress that hugs her asscheeks.

"No," she growls and flips off of me. She threatens to pull us both to the floor because my grip on her is so tight. Tighter than I realize. "Get the fuck off me," she nearly screams and shoves hard against me. "You're a fucking psycho, do you know that?"

I swallow hard and realize she's right. She's my fucking nanny, not some woman Evette procured for me. When I think of what I've been doing with those women for the past few weeks to try to distract myself it feels wrong to be smacking her ass for wanting the same thing. Then I remember it was another man she let do all the things I want to do to her and it sends anger writhing in me once more.

She starts to stomp off, and I growl, "get back here."

Esa freezes, but only for a moment. "Fuck you." And then she's stomping down the hall faster than I can catch up to her.

Slamming the bedroom door, she tries to lock me out, but I'm faster. I push the door open and she's already flung herself on the bed. She buries her face in the pillow, and I just want to rip her head up and shake her.

Then I hear it.

Sniffling. She's... crying.

My rage is deflated. I'm many things- an arrogant fucking asshole for starters. But I don't make women cry.

I don't know what to do though. She's crying, presumably because of me, but what should I say? How she goes from ready to fight one minute to crying the next, I don't understand.