Page 16 of Knot The Nanny We Planned

"I feel it." Her voice is muffled against my chest. "I've felt it since yesterday."

"Since the elevator," I correct.

"Since the elevator," she admits.

My hand on her hip tightens. My fingers curl, tips pressing into the soft flesh of her ass, and I pull her harder against me. She gasps, and her head tilts back, and I look down into her face, flushed, parted lips, heavy-lidded eyes, and the urge to kiss her is so overwhelming I have to lock my jaw to stop myself.

"Not yet," I say, and the words are for me as much as for her.

"Knox…"

"The coffee's done," I say, and I watch her blink in confusion at the non-sequitur.

"What?"

"Coffee's done." I release her hip, God, it takes everything I have, and step back. The loss of her body against mine is physical pain. "You should eat something. Lily wakes up at seven-thirty, and Deklan gets insufferable if there's no breakfast."

She stares at me. Flushed, bewildered, still trembling. "You just, you said all of that, and now you're talking about breakfast?"

I grin. It's weak because I'm too hard, too hungry, too desperate for a real grin, but it's there. "I told you, little omega. I'm not going to take anything from you. When you're ready, when you ask, I'll give you everything. But right now, you need coffee, and I need to not blow my load in my sweatpants like a teenager."

Her blush returns full force. She opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again. "You're insane."

"Absolutely." I turn to the coffee maker and pour two cups, handing her one. Our fingers brush during the exchange, and the contact sends a jolt of electricity up my arm. "Cream and sugar?"

"Just sugar."

I reach for the sugar bowl, and as I hand it to her, I lean in close. Close enough that my lips brush her ear.

"For the record," I murmur, "you're not wearing underwear, and I can smell how wet you are through that shirt, and it's taking every ounce of self-control I have not to bend you over this counter and eat you for breakfast instead."

She spills sugar all over the counter.

I pull back, grinning, really grinning now, and take a sip of my coffee like I didn't just say the most obscene thing imaginable at 7 AM on a Tuesday.

"You, you can't just say things like that," she stammers, grabbing a paper towel and wiping up the spilled sugar with shaking hands.

"I just did."

"And then go back to talking about coffee!"

"The coffee is excellent," I say. "Colombian. Single origin. Deklan's pretentious obsession."

She stares at me, and I watch the frustration war with amusement on her face. The flush is still there, the arousal still thick in the air, but there's something else now, a crack of laughter tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"You're impossible," she says.

"I prefer incorrigible."

She takes a sip of her coffee, and over the rim of the cup, I see her eyes drift down. Again. To the very obvious, very prominent situation in my sweatpants.

"You're also still hard," she observes.

"I'm going to be hard for the foreseeable future," I say. "Possibly forever. You should probably get used to it."

She chokes on her coffee.

I'm still grinning when JD walks in.