The Nanny ✔

#13

Word count: 1775

Sophie's POV

*

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The sound of the clock ticking by the second gets louder as I rouse awake and shift in the darkness, letting out a light groan.

My eyelids slowly part open, I squeeze them together and then open them again. A raspy breath escapes my lips when I try to sit up but feel my muscles tense and my body heavy. 

Then I freeze.

There's something on my stomach. It's..warm and in fierce like grip.

Wait, what?

In alarm, I sit up and trace around, sighing when I finally locate the switch on the wall just a little above the headboard and flicking it. Then illumination floods the room and I bite back a gasp, my palm reaching over to cover my mouth at the sight of the thing previously on my stomach and now on my waist. How did he get here?

A few things register in that moment.

One, I feel somewhat tired and the back of my head is throbbing like I hit it on something.

Two, I'm in my employers arms, in the middle of the freaking night and as if that isn't bad enough, we're lying on the same bed. I just woke up with him on my bed.  

I blink rapidly as a series of question marks appear on my head.

This is my boss, Mr freaking Demola himself. The cocky man who told me to stay out of his space. How did we get into my room, when I don't even remember reading Oli a bedtime story or even retiring for the night?

Where's Oli?

Again, what am I doing here with him?

My gaze darts around frantically to confirm I'm in the right place. This is my room but why is he sleeping so soundlessly beside me?

I couldn't have seduced him, since he asked turned me down the other day, which brings me back to the main question once more. When did I go to sleep?

I can't remember taking Oli to her room or reading her a story. Sleepiness immediately drowns out off my eyes as I realise that I can't remember taking Oli to bed or getting in myself.

I'm still in my track pants and camisole from yesterday.

With a curiosity at its peak and the need for an explanation, I slap my boss's upper arm. He grumbles as he moves closer to me and the muscle in his arm flexes when his hold on my waist tighten.

Desire pulls at my core and I berate myself for my foolishness. It must be the cold. I must've forgotten to close the window last night.

Looking down at his sleepy face which is far more relaxing than the stern expression he usually sports, I drop my hand to my side to stall for some time before waking him.

My gaze trails from his thick black hair to his neatly curved brows, down to his droopy nose and bow shaped lips. I observe the sharpness of his jaws and wonder what it would feel like if I peck him there, not like I would ever do that.

That doesn't stop my thoughts from wandering off to the entertaining scenes taking form in my head. Scenes where we have each other's attention and I'm so close to him, then I lean in so closely that his one o'clock shadow grazes my lips. My body tingles with anticipation and need.

A contented sigh escapes my lips. He looks so beautiful, with a radiant and peaceful expression now that he's sleeping.

But at the remembrance of how he's acted so coldly towards me these past few weeks, I feel my patience wear on a thin line.