“Come in, come in,” he ground out, exasperated, taking a deep breath. “It’s been a long day.”
And even though my heart was pumping from his nearness, I made myself smile and step into the foyer. This, I definitely remembered. The space was huge, all marble floors with a giant chandelier swinging over our heads.
“Where’s Violet?” I asked tentatively, trying to look nonchalant.
Mr. Parker took another deep sigh. Come to think of it, he was worn around the edges, there were brackets around his deep blue eyes that hadn’t been there before and his laugh lines were a little more prominent. Must have been his job, I knew he worked in finance doing something, what I wasn’t exactly sure.
“Violet,” he called out again, one hand on the bannister. “Come down please, your favorite person is here.”
And the patter of small footsteps sounded before a tiny blonde bundle hurtled down the stairs into my arms.
“Mandy, Mandy,” cried the five year-old. “You’re here!”
The little girl was such a sweetheart. Despite today being a regular day and not a holiday, she had on a purple ballerina dress, complete with stiff tutu and a glittery crown on her head.
“Hi sweetheart,” I said cheerily. “I like your outfit. Were you playing princess upstairs?”
Violet drew back for a moment and I saw that her chubby face was streaked with tears and eyes red from crying.
“You okay honey?” I asked, more gently this time. “Did the evil witch come?”
She nodded silently, blue eyes looking up at me, slight smears of chocolate around her mouth. But that was okay, kids get dirty really easily and it could be fixed with a warm washcloth, no problem.
But there was something was different about Violet’s appearance, it wasn’t my imagination. Just like her dad, she looked exhausted, which was not okay for a five year-old. Kids get tired, sure, but they fall asleep right away and wake up completely refreshed, every day is a new day for them. So it worried me though I tried not to show it. Murmuring reassuringly, I said, “Vi, we’ll get you dinner, cleaned up and then ready for bed okay?”
But the little girl screamed then, kicking and jerking her legs violently against me.
“Oof!” the breath woofed out of my stomach, her patent shoes pounding painfully against my hips. “Ouch!”
And Mr. Parker stepped in then, bodily hauling his daughter off of me, clamping her tight against his big form.
“I’m sorry, we’ve been having a tough go of it recently, you know with Vivian moving out and all.”
I stopped in my tracks before catching myself and trying to look normal. Mrs. Parker had moved out? What? When? Why hadn’t my parents told me?
And Mr. Parker nodded again, eyes dark.
“Vivian moved out a couple months back,” he rasped, “and it’s been tough for Vi. She hasn’t been sleeping well, throwing tantrums left and right. So if you can manage her tonight, it’d be a miracle.”
I smiled tentatively.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I said reassuringly even as my mind whirled. Oh my god, my poor little charge. Her mom left and now she was acting out? Heck, any child would do the same, even if Vivian Parker had barely been present in her daughter’s life. Most days, as far as I could tell, the woman hadn’t gotten up before noon and left most of Vi’s care to a nanny who did everything, feeding, bathing, playing with her own flesh and blood.
Speaking of which, where was the nanny? Mr. Parker, reading my mind, shook his head again.
“Mrs. Bee quit,” he ground out, shoulders tense as he hugged his daughter tight. “Vi got to be too much and Mrs. Bee was sixty, she couldn’t manage anymore. So she up and left and it’s just you and me, right kiddo?” he asked the little girl, who burrowed her blonde head into his shoulder, refusing to look up. “It’s just us and we’ll be okay right, kiddo?”
My eyebrows rose although I tried not to look surprised. Mr. Parker had been raising his daughter on his own for the past couple months? That was a tough one. Even though I’m not a parent myself, I’ve babysat a lot and it’s not an easy business. Tiny humans are demanding, always needing to eat, sleep, get their diaper changed, and the twenty-four hour supervision is exhausting. So Mr. Parker’s single dad status must have been tough, beyond tough actually. He was probably bone-tired, with a headache, a walking zombie.
And he shook his head with a weary sigh.
“Alright, I’m gonna hand her over to you now because I’ve got to get to the restaurant,” he rumbled, glancing at his wristwatch. “Shit, Alexandria’s gonna have my ass if I’m late,” he growled. “Here,” he said, making to pass his daughter to me. “Vi, it’s time for Daddy to go.”
But the little girl shrieked, clinging to him, linking her small arms tightly around the big man’s neck.
“Nooo!” she screamed. “Don’t go Daddy, don’t go!”
I tried to pull the little girl from her father although it was practically impossible, she was like a barnacle glued to him. Her little legs locked around the alpha’s waist and she burrowed her face in his shoulder again.
“Nooo!” she screamed repeatedly. “No no no!”
“Come on Vi,” I said gently, getting in close and putting my hand under her arms. “Come on, we’ll make something really good for dinner okay? Remember how much you like peanut butter oh-ohs? How about I make you some and we eat them together? Come on, it’ll be fun.”
And despite the fact that I should have been completely focused on my small charge, I couldn’t help but inhale Mr. Parker’s distinctive cologne close up. He smelled so good as I wrested his daughter from his grasp, the soft wool of his cashmere sweater brushing against me, that square jaw and piercing blue eyes just inches away from my face. I blushed hotly, body heating and growing melty inside, quivering a bit at his nearness. But I steeled myself and shook my head. Get with it girl, I scolded. You’re here to help with a heartbroken child, one who has no mom anymore, and instead you’re thinking about the dad? Don’t be so shallow.
But I couldn’t help my body’s reaction because there aren’t very many hot men on campus, they’re mostly just boys, gangly adolescents with teen acne and wisdom tooth pains. And while there have been a couple boys interested, they were just that, boys, juvenile and lame. Next to Mr. Parker and his dark dominance, the guys at school reminded me of puppies, annoying, yapping at my heels, always trying to paw me. So yeah, Mr. Parker was a nice change, a real man who was assertive, assuring, always in charge.
But something was different this time. Maybe it was because I was standing mere inches away, my nose practically touching his, but Mr. Parker’s jaw was clenched, nostrils flaring, and a dark stain lit his cheekbones. My heart suddenly began pumping a million miles a minute. Could it be? Oh my god, was Mr. Parker aroused by me? By plain old Mandy Smith? My nipples immediately perked, insides growing wet from the realization that this perfect male animal wanted me.
But I guess it’s not that weird because I have changed a lot in the last year. Like I mentioned, I used to be really ugly and unfortunate looking. I was thin as a twig with braces, with frizzy brown hair and Coke-bottle glasses and no fashion sense. But I decided I didn’t want to start college looking like Punky Brewster’s older sister. So I got the braces removed and started wearing contacts, which was tough because it’s literally putting something in your eye, it freaked me out at first.
And somehow, as if sensing my desire to transform myself, my body began a metamorphosis too. I put on significant weight and am now curvy instead of stick thin. Fortunately, I’m young so all the weight went to the right places and I’ve got big Double D’s plus a wide, swinging ass, and thick thighs. Okay, I guess I wish the thighs were a little thinner, but you know what? After eighteen years as a stick figure, I can handle a little heft down there, a little junk in the trunk.
So I guess it wasn’t so strange that Mr. Parker noticed my changed body. There were boys at school who’d asked me out, making it clear that they’d b
e only too happy to take me to bed, do the dirty on our first date. But I dunno, I didn’t want to lose my virginity in some tiny dorm bed, so narrow that I even have trouble sleeping in it alone. And besides, on the first date? I have nothing against pulling the trigger fast, but still, those guys were so puppy-like, I couldn’t possibly. So I was saving myself for something more, for a sensuous, memorable evening, not some drunken fling on a hard mattress.
And Mr. Parker would be a good time, I could feel it in my bones. Oh god, if he took me to bed … oh god yes, I’d be so into it, breasts vibrating with his nearness, feminine instincts immediately attuned to his masculine dominance. Heat flared in my pussy, growing embarrassingly moist and I forced myself into the present once more. Mr. Parker’s way out of your league, I scolded myself. Even now, he’s probably headed out on a date with some gorgeous vixen, not a naïve eighteen year-old like you.
So as you can tell, I still wasn’t exactly confident mentally. Sure, I had a new body and some newfound attention from the opposite sex, but inside, I’m still the same old me, Mandy Smith, no one special, nerd extraordinaire. Shaking myself back to reality, I managed to hoist Violet away from her dad finally, and the little girl burrowed her blonde head against me, still sobbing, miserable.
“Mandy,” she cried through her sobs, “I missed you.”
And my heart immediately went out to the little girl. Shame on you, I scolded myself. Thinking about your non-existent sex life when a little girl’s had her heart broken.
And immediately I clicked into maternal mode.
“Come on honey,” I said, hugging her small form close. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll get you some dinner.”
And as Violet calmed, her little fists unclenched, lifting her head to nod at me with wide, tear-stained eyes. Mr. Parker let out a deep sigh of relief then before heading over to the hall closet to grab his coat.
“Thanks so much,” he rumbled, turning to look at us once more, his hand on the doorknob, blue eyes piercing, oh so magnetic. “I know I can trust you with Vi, Mandy, you’re amazing.”
And I colored despite my resolve to be easy-breezy and casual.
“Of course, Mr. Parker, it’s no prob, I love Violet.”
And Mr. Parker looked hard at me once before smiling, white teeth flashing.
“I know you do,” he said in a low voice, “And Mandy,” he said, clearing his throat suddenly, “don’t you think it’s time you called me Pete now?”
I giggled a little. I knew Mr. Parker’s name was Peter Parker, and it was so funny. Just like Spiderman?
He grinned knowingly.
“Yep, just like Spiderman, so I go by Pete, not Peter,” he rumbled. “So call me Pete from now on,” he said with a wink before softly shutting the door behind him, exiting soundlessly like a big cat.
I rolled the name around on my lips experimentally. Pete. Pete Parker. It sounded good and I smiled to myself. I really was growing up, if Mr. Parker asked me to call him by his first name. And you know what? I was a big girl now … and ready for big girl adventures.
CHAPTER TWO
Pete
Holy shit, when had my neighbor become so sexy? The transformation was shocking to be honest. My ex-wife and I had used Mandy as a babysitter before, even as recently as last summer. But what I remembered was completely different from what she looked like now. I had a hazy memory of a greyish person with braces and frizzy hair, really skinny. That’s all I could recall honestly, nothing more no matter how much I tried.
But shit, that was all history. Because the brunette who’d shown up at the door tonight had been ravishing, really fucking gorgeous. Huge tits curved softly beneath her sweater, and a round, juicy ass stuck out behind her, outlined in a plaid skirt. And her face, but god her face, had been the stuff of wet dreams. Big, brown eyes gazed innocently and that full pout was straight up Angelina Jolie, if not more plush, more sensuous.
So yeah, my dick hardened immediately because who was this goddess on my doorstep? And when her mouth had opened to say, “Hi Mr. Parker,” I practically fell over. Mandy? This was mousy little Mandy, our old babysitter? Oh fuck, oh fuck. I wanted nothing but to cancel my date and sweep up the beautiful girl in my arms, but at that very moment, my daughter came barreling down the stairs, throwing herself into my arms. And good thing too, because my erection was getting really hard, poking up against my pants, so thank god there was a distraction, somewhere else for my babysitter to look.
But shit, back to reality. Because things have been hard for Violet lately. My wife, or ex-wife I should say, took off a couple months ago, leaving her little girl behind. I wasn’t upset about Vivian leaving to be honest, it’d been a long time coming, we hadn’t had sex in god knows how long, and barely even spoke to one another anymore. But shit, taking off with our pool boy? That was fucking unexpected because that shithead couldn’t have been a day over twenty-one, and he was a fucking boy, for crying out loud. Vivian was into money and prestige, so what the fuck was she thinking, had her priorities changed?
But I grunted. Carlos had done me a favor, the final nail in a marriage that was already dead. But that didn’t mean that Violet understood any of it. Despite the fact that her mother had barely paid attention to her, Violet still knew that a major adult figure in her life had abandoned her, leaving for parts unknown. I reassured my daughter, over and over again, that her mother loved her, that Violet was her number one. But fuck, Vivian hadn’t come around for a long time, so those words were hollow and the five year-old could feel it, kids aren’t idiots.
So yeah, the tot’s been a handful since, acting out. My cute little daughter has transformed these last few months into a small monster, a tiny child who screams and yells non-stop, impossible to control. Even Mrs. Bee, our old nanny, finally had enough. The old woman has taken care of a lot of kids, hell she has five children of her own, but Violet proved too much for her. After one particularly brutal day after my daughter screamed non-stop for hours, refusing to eat, tearing through the house naked, Mrs. Bee handed in her resignation.
“Sorry Mr. Parker,” she said apologetically, her plump form clad in an apron. “Violet has been very sad lately, very difficult. Have you thought about taking her to a psychologist?”
I was stunned. My little girl needed mental help? Therapy even? Hell no! Suddenly I was overwhelmingly angry with my ex, really pissed that she’d done this, dropping her daughter like a hot coal without a thought for her well-being. And what the fuck was I going to do? I needed to work, I had shit to do, money to make, a household to support. But I couldn’t persuade Mrs. Bee to stay despite the desperate tone in my voice.
“Please,” I growled, “I’ll double your salary, even triple.”
The old woman shook her head regretfully.
“No, Mr. Parker, I’m too old and your daughter’s more than I can handle. You need someone else, someone young with more energy.”
I shook my head, frustrated. Where the fuck was I going to find someone on such short notice? Fuck, I was fucking screwed, and nothing I could say would change Mrs. Bee’s mind. But frankly, I didn’t blame her, Violet’s been so tough recently.
So after closing the door, I sat on the steps of the staircase, crouching, exhausted. It was just me and my girl, and the huge mansion seemed depressing all of sudden, gigantic and empty. Shit, maybe we should move to the city, all my daughter and I needed was a small apartment, we’d be fine without these extra rooms, spaces no one ever set foot in.
But at that moment, Violet wandered into the foyer, tear-stained with a stuffed animal clutched in her hands, and said, “Daddy?”
And I swept her into my arms. I couldn’t move my daughter, not now. Not after all the changes she’d gone through, this place was the only home Violet knew. So I resolved to make life as good for her as possible.
And it’s turned out okay, surprisingly. Violet goes to daycare for a half-day now, and I take care of her on my own for the rest of the afternoon. Fortunately, I�
�m an entrepreneur who makes my own hours, so it’s no problem. Getting my daughter onto a schedule, into a stable routine was more important than the fat cats who pay me the big bucks.
But I hadn’t had a break for months, and the rigid schedule was wearing me down. So when I heard that Mandy was back in town, I immediately dialed her parents’ house. Lo and behold, the teen was still babysitting and was happy to come over, even on short notice.
So yeah, Mandy’s a lifesaver. My little girl had leapt immediately into the curvy brunette’s arms, looking like she belonged there, some peace in my house after months of chaos. And it looked so right, so amazing, that I almost canceled my date, texting Alexandria to tell her something came up.
But I couldn’t because Alexandria’s been nagging me for months to get out, and if I canceled I’d never hear the end of it with endless whiny voicemails, pleading emails, and countless messages left with my secretary. So yeah, now I’m stuck meeting the woman at a restaurant, one of those places where entrees cost thirty bucks, of which Alexandria would eat approximately one fifth and then wave the rest off, focusing on her wine. She’s one of those high-maintenance types, the kind with weekly appointments at the salon for hair and nails, always seen with vampy red lipstick even when working out. In my old life, I would have been fine with it, hell, this used to be my “type.” But something’s changed since, I’m not into it anymore. It just seems empty, really fake and shallow now.
So I showed up at the restaurant, not expecting much, and Alexandria didn’t disappoint. She was six feet tall in those heels, dressed in some kind of slinky dress that was part-haute couture, part-showgirl.
“Hiya,” she purred, her green eyes running all over my big form. “How are you, Pete? Long time no see.”
I grunted low in my throat before giving her a peck on the cheek.
“Great,” I rumbled. “And you?”
She laughed throatily.
“I’m good, we haven’t seen each other, in what, six years?”
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