A Very Merry Nanny (Very Merry #2)

Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

HUDSON

I t's the morning of December first, and all through the house, not a creature is stirring—except for Mr. Stinky, who shit an entire pile of Tootsie Rolls onto the kitchen counter. His pants are down and he’s bent over. Behind him are ten miniature logs stacked high. I personally think it’s fucking hilarious. I capture a photo of that dirty little elf so I can have it for the album I'm compiling for Colby. Once Bee no longer believes, I hope he appreciates the trouble I go through every season to make the holidays special. I enjoy it, though; it's why I'll enthusiastically continue this charade until he’s grown out of it. I'm always eager to create memories he can look back on fondly.

As Emma and Colby sleep soundly, I make a breakfast fit for my little king—and queen, of course. I've always loved the early mornings when the house is still quiet. It gives me time to think about my life and contemplate the future. The aromas of frying bacon fill the air, mingling delightfully with the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee.

Around here, birthdays are treated like their own holiday, and I always strive to make them as magical as possible. The excitement of the day buzzes beneath the surface, intensifying as I imagine the joy on Colby's face when he sees his cake and gifts.

I plan to leave work around two, ensuring I have plenty of time to mentally prepare myself to host. Large groups aren’t my thing, and I typically try to avoid them, except for occasions like this. When it comes to my kid, I’ll put on a cheerful facade and mask the urge to escape into the solitude of another room. I'm pro-level at this point.

In less than twelve hours, the house will be a whirlwind of bouncing kids and chatty adults. Colby invited his entire Pre-K class to celebrate with him, and it brings a giddy flutter to my heart knowing my family will be here, adding their own jolly energy to the festivities.

He’d even sweetly begged Mawmaw to bake him a cake just like Claire's, but bigger—with his charm, Mawmaw couldn't say no. It’s proof that Bee can wrap any woman around his little finger. All it takes is one look, and their hearts melt.

I chuckle to myself, a soft smile gracing my lips as I reflect on how he undoubtedly inherited this gift from me. I just hope he won’t be a heartbreaker like I was in my younger years; those paths often lead to trouble and loveless marriages, something I pray he steers clear of.

After taking a sip of my coffee, I remove the crispy bacon from the skillet—a task I've mastered over countless mornings. As I reach for the eggs, a pair of arms snakes around my waist, pulling me gently back into a warm embrace. Emma presses loving kisses against my back, and I turn around to find her gaze waiting for me. I slide my mouth against hers, savoring the taste of her spearmint toothpaste.

“Good morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” I ask, my voice still thick with sleep. I'm exhausted, but I'll catch up after Christmas. As long as it's ho ho ho season, it's go go go for me.

“Good morning. I slept great.” She wears a sleepy expression, her eyes barely open behind her black-framed glasses. “Mm. The bacon smells delicious, but can I have your meat for breakfast instead?”

I hold her close, wrapping my arm around her waist and kissing her forehead tenderly. Her hand slips into my joggers, and I feel her warm grasp.

“Jolly Jr. is fully awake this morning,” she teases, grinning cheekily.

I groan out a laugh. “You named my dick Jolly Jr.?”

“Better than tripod,” she quips, her laughter dancing through the air as she continues to stroke me long and hard. I slide my hands down into her pajama pants, and I’m greeted by the familiar slickness of her desire. My girl wants me all day, every day. The feeling is mutual.

I adore it when she wakes up with that fiery hunger; it’s a surefire sign that I’m going to have a very good day. Soft sighs escape her lips, urging me on, and then I slide two fingers into her pretty pussy. As I penetrate her, she clenches around me. A sound of pleasure escapes her as she leans her elbows against the counter, presenting herself to me, eager for more.

Emma spits on her palm, then returns to sliding her hand up and down my length. The saliva adds just the right amount of friction, and my body aches with the desperate need for release. I draw wide circles around her clit, deliberately withholding the direct stimulation she craves. We have plenty of time to play this morning, and I intend to savor every delicious moment.

“Enjoy it, Em,” I say, capturing her mouth with mine. She breathes me in deeply, her legs nearly giving out when I graze past her hard nub. I pull my fingers from her panties, tasting her arousal on my tongue before diving back into the game we're playing.

“I want you in my mouth. I need to taste you,” she whispers. I can hardly take my eyes off Emma, as she kneels before me in my kitchen. I place my hand under her chin, and she devilishly smirks up at me.

With precision, Emma takes me into her mouth slowly, working me with her hand, slowing then increasing her pace. She's in complete control as she drives me further into her throat. The sensation is so intoxicating that I feel like I'm dreaming.

The pressure builds rapidly, and I grasp the edge of the counter for stability. My head falls back, exposing my neck.

“Fuck, Emma, I'm so close,” I tell her, thrusting my fingers through her hair, encouraging her to take me deeper, but she pulls away.

“Not yet,” my greedy girl says, smirking as she slides her tongue up and down me. “What's that you said to me? Enjoy it?”

Her fingers trail up my stomach, and she tweaks my hard nipples. “Mm, my little maneater.”

“The only man I'm ever eating again is you,” she confesses, returning me to her mouth. She works me up. Guttural groans release from my lips as she brings me to the brink again. My cock throbs, aching with the anticipation of giving her what we desire.

She returns to me, licking the pre-cum that's pooled at my tip, devouring me like I'm her favorite flavor. She moves me in and out of her mouth at a tortious pace.

My muscles tense, the wave of pleasure surges as I fist my fingers through her hair.

Seconds later, I hiss out a warning as I feel the desperate rush surging through me. Emma pulls back, allowing me to watch my silvery cum shoot onto her tongue in an almost surreal cascade. I grunt out my release and she swallows every drop, eager to savor the taste, licking her lips clean of the salty remnants.

Standing, she smirks with that familiar, self-satisfied grin.

“Good fucking girl,” I say, a husky whisper in the early morning silence. I kiss her, tasting the blend of us on my lips.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her smile warm against my mouth. “I'm almost convinced it's my birthday.”

“I guess that makes me the present?” I ask, my heart rapidly thumps in my chest, my breathing still ragged.

She chuckles while making herself a cup of coffee, satisfied she has so much fucking control over me. Emma watches me intently from the bar stool, her gaze longing. Before I go back to cooking, I move to her, falling to my knees before her.

She holds my face in her hands, her brown eyes sparkle.

“May I pretty please return the favor?” I ask.

Emma nods, and I peel her pajama pants off her body. She scoots her ass to the edge of the chair, opening her thighs wide for me. I kiss up her thighs, planting my mouth on her clit. Her body instantly responds to my tongue flicking against her. “You taste so good.”

A whimper releases from her as she rocks her hips forward, bracing herself on the barstool. Her hair falls back over her shoulders as a breathy moan escapes her. Pleasing her gives me so much pleasure I can barely stand it. I move from her clit to her tight little hole, fucking her with my tongue. She grows breathless and I know if I keep going she'll lose herself.

“Yes,” she hisses out, her back arched like she's suspended in air. I smile against her, working her slower as she steadily climbs. I slide two fingers inside, curling upward, tickling her G-spot. Emma mutters something, and I chuckle against her, but keep going.

“You want it so fucking bad, I can taste it,” I whisper, sucking her lips into my mouth before returning to that cute little clit.

Her muscles tighten, and I pull away, leaving her suspended in time and space. She fists her fingers through my hair, forcing my face back to her. I give her exactly what she craves. Seconds later, she groans so loud that when she comes, I think she might wake Colby. I lick her clean, not wasting any part of her, loving how sweet she tastes. Then I kiss her thighs before she leans down and slides her mouth against mine.

“I can never get enough of you,” she says between breaths.

“I hope you never do.” I help slide her pants back onto her body, and she squeezes her thighs together when she stands.

Once we've both come back down to reality, I wash my hands and return to cooking breakfast as she watches me. I chop the bacon and assemble the ham and cheese for the neon green omelets I'm preparing for Bee's birthday breakfast.

“On a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if I got Colby a Rottweiler puppy?” she asks.

I set down the knife and turn to her, eyes widening in disbelief. “You didn’t.”

“A ten is the maddest you are on my scale.”

I raise my brows.

“Okay, what if it were a Golden Retriever puppy?”

“Ten! Please tell me you didn't.”

Her expression is theatrical worry, but she can't hold it very long as I stare at her. “Okay, I didn’t. I was testing the waters.”

“Please promise me you won't. I've got a puppy plan in place already.”

Her eyes light up. “That’s all I needed to hear. Just making sure my little bestie gets everything he wants in life.”

I raise a brow. “Oh, so you're besties now?”

“Absolutely.”

“Happy Birthday to youuuuuuu!” The room bursts into song for Colby, the joyous sound floats through the air. Everyone is happy, and my son is having the time of his life.

I stand across from him with Emma on one side and my brothers on the other.

“Blow out the candles and make a wish,” Mawmaw urges, her love radiant as she watches her great-grandson.

Colby looks from me to Emma, excitement bubbling in his eyes. “I wish for?—“

“Not out loud,” I interrupt, my tone playful. “Or it won’t come true.”

He closes his eyes, concentrates, and makes his secret wish before blowing out the five candles in one swift breath. My boy is growing up before my eyes; I can nearly see his entire life unfolding in faded memories, snapshots of laughter and joy. On the outside, my demeanor remains steady, but Emma must’ve sensed something was off and hooks one finger to mine—a hidden gesture, a reminder that she’s here, that she sees me. The warmth of her touch makes my smile widen when I glance at her.

“So,” I step forward, breaking the brief, beautiful moment. “I guess we should cut this cake.”

Every kid, along with Mawmaw, Jake, and Claire, yells excitedly. Their voices merge into a joyful cacophony that fills the air. I pick up the cake slicers, their silver edges glint under the bright lights. I get to work, plopping hefty pieces of five-layer chocolate cake onto colorful plates decorated with playful dinosaurs. The rich aroma of chocolate wafts through the room, heightening the anticipation as the cake makes its way around. Just as the last slice is being served, the doorbell rings. Its chime cuts through the laughter.

“I don't think I've ever heard anyone ring it before,” my mother muses, her brow furrowing slightly in curiosity.

Jake and Lucas nod in agreement, their eyes darting toward the door, intrigued.

“I'll get it. Carry on,” Emma chirps, her bubbly personality shining like a beacon in the crowd.

“Dad, when can we open presents?” Colby interjects, his voice brimming with eagerness as Emma breaks away. Chocolate is already all over his face, fingers, and shirt.

“After you've finished eating,” I explain, trying to keep the distraction from derailing the excitement.

My eyes stay glued to Emma as she moves toward the door, the brightness of her smile lighting up her face as she glances back at me watching her. In a crowded room, I'll always have my gaze planted on her.

As she swings the door open, I notice her entire demeanor shifts, like a cloud passing over a sunny day. My heart rate upticks, and I put down my fork.

When I glance past her, I see a ghost from my past. One that I had hoped would never haunt me again.

Meredith.