Single Dad’s Spring Break

by Rye Hart

  But, no. It wouldn't have been right.

  After relieving the pressure myself upstairs in my bed a little later, I heard Lola crying out. When I rushed into her room, she'd been lying in bed, practically screaming, in the grip of a night terror.. Spencer rushed in, but I waved him out quickly. I just held Lola to me, whispering to her and stroking her hair softly, trying to soothe and comfort the poor girl.

  It had taken some time, but I'd finally been able to get her back to sleep. After that, I'd trudged into my own bed and had collapsed, utterly exhausted. When my alarm went off, I had to fight the urge to throw it against the wall.

  Grumbling to myself, I threw back the covers, got out of bed, and shuffled my way to the bathroom. I took a shower so warm, I was practically par-boiling myself. When I was finished, I dried off and got dressed in a pair of jeans, a button-down shirt, and tennis shoes. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and decided to forgo the makeup – though I was tempted to put a little on, just to make myself look nice for Spencer.

  I pushed that thought away quickly though. Regardless of what had happened the night before he was still my boss. I was powerfully attracted to him, found him sexy as hell, and damn near irresistible, but he was still my boss. I couldn't lose sight of that. This was my dream job and I wasn't going to do something that would jeopardize it.

  I bounded downstairs and found the girls already in the kitchen eating breakfast with Spencer's maid hovering nearby, keeping an eye on them. I gave her a smile and a nod, letting her know I was on duty. She said a few words in French to me. I nodded and replied to her, still kind of thrilled that I was putting my education to work for me. Finally. The woman smiled and left the kitchen to see about her other tasks.

  “So, what's for breakfast girls?” I asked. “It smells really great.”

  Maisie was eating with gusto, while Lola picked at her plate, obviously not real thrilled with the fare. Or maybe, the night terrors were still on her mind. Or maybe, it was just being in France, so far away from home that was bothering her. “Emilia made us omelets,” Maisie announced around a mouthful of food.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked. “Well, lucky you!”

  Maisie nodded. “There's mushrooms and avocado, and cheese... ”

  “That sounds amazing,” I said. “What do you think, Lola?”

  The little girl shrugged. “It's okay, I guess.”

  I nodded but decided to not push her just yet. I was going to need to crack her eventually, but I knew to do that, I was going to need to earn her trust. I felt like if I pushed her too hard right now, I'd force her to retreat even further inward. So, for now, I would let her take things – like opening up to me – at her own pace.

  “Well, we have an exciting day, girls,” I said. “I’m going to start teaching you some French. How does that sound?”

  Maisie squealed and clapped her hands, excited by the prospect. Lola though, remained silent and just picked at her food. Maisie elbowed her and rolled her eyes.

  I stepped in before Maisie made Lola feel bad. “Just finish your breakfast and when you're done, we'll go from there. How does that sound?”

  “Good,” Maisie said brightly.

  Lola just nodded and refused to meet my eyes, popping a little piece of her omelet into her mouth. That was about the best I was going to get out of her, so I nodded and went to the refrigerator. Grabbing a yogurt and tossing some fresh berries on top of it, I walked out of the kitchen, happily munching way on my own breakfast.

  “Hey, Avery.”

  Spencer's voice stopped me in my tracks. I turned to find him striding down the hallway toward me. He was wearing nicely tailored slacks and a sweater. My heart beat a staccato rhythm in my chest as he drew near. I really hoped he wasn't going to want to talk about last night. I already felt awkward enough about it and I knew that talking about it would only make it that much worse.

  It was the excitement of being in France, mixed with a little too much wine, and the company of a gorgeous man – and things just got a little bit out of control. I just wanted to write it off and forget about it, personally. I didn't want to have a heart-to-heart about it. “I just wanted to say thanks for last night,” he said.

  My heart lurched in my chest and the knots in my stomach constricted so hard, I was half-afraid I was going to throw up on his well-polished shoes. As if intuiting what was going through my head, Spencer laughed and shook his head.

  “I meant with Lola,” he said. “You taking care of her when she was having her night terrors. She seemed to calm down with you. I just – I just wanted to say thank you. I appreciate it.”

  The heat flared in my cheeks instantly and I felt stupid for assuming he was talking about what happened between us.

  “You're welcome,” I said sheepishly. “I was just doing my job though. That's why you pay me the big bucks, right?”

  He laughed heartily and nodded, which made me feel better instantly. The air of tension and awkwardness that had enveloped us dissipated – it felt like the sun breaking through the clouds after a particularly intense storm.

  “That's right,” he says.

  Our eyes locked for a long moment and that feeling of tension and expectation returned. My body was responding to his gaze – my heart was stuttering, I felt butterfly wings brushing at my insides, and I felt that familiar heat ignite between my thighs. I knew if I stood there staring into his eyes much longer, I risked losing myself in them – and risked having to go and change my panties.

  Thankfully, a knock at the door broke the spell he'd cast over me and the moment passed. Spencer looked down at his watch and grumbled.

  “He's early,” he said.

  “Who's early?”

  “Charles,” he said. “My business partner.”

  Emilia's feet sounded on the floor behind us and Spencer turned to her, giving the older woman a smile.

  “It's okay, Emilia,” he said. “I've got it. But, thank you.”

  It was something small and probably inconsequential – something most people probably wouldn't even notice or consider – but the way he treated his staff never failed to warm my heart. He was so good to the people who worked for him and it impressed me. I figured that most rich businessmen were used to having people do everything for them – even open a door when they were standing ten feet from it.

  I'd long believed that the way people treated those people beneath them was a true indicator of who they really were. People who treated waiters or others in the service industry like garbage, were often garbage people themselves.

  Spencer was different. Much, much different.

  He turned and crossed the foyer to the front door, opening it up to reveal an incredibly attractive man. Six-feet-tall, blonde, blue eyed, and obviously very fit. He had broad shoulders, had hair that was perfectly styled, flawless skin, a strong jawline, and in a very well-tailored, dark designer suit with an electric blue tie, he was impeccably dressed.

  “Spencer,” the man said, his voice colored with a strong French accent that was like honey to my ears. “It is good to see you again, my friend.”

  The man stepped forward and pulled Spencer into a tight embrace, planting a kiss on both of his cheeks. Spencer looked a little bit uncomfortable, but I gave him credit for just rolling with it. The man eventually let Spencer go and stepped back, a wide smile on his face – and that's when his eyes fell upon me and his thousand-watt smile got even brighter.

  “And who is this?” he asked.

  Spencer turned and gave me a warm smile. “This is Avery,” he said. “She's Lola and Maisie's nanny. Avery, this is my partner, Charles Deschamps the Third.”

  “Avery,” he said. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

  He closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, and took my hand and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on it, and sending an electric charge running through my body. My cheeks were burning, and I was sure, were an unnatural shade of red.

  When I looked up, a dark sha
dow crossed Spencer's features as he watched Charles kissing my hand, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Maybe I'd imagined it. Charles stood up and said something in French, then looked stricken, and started to apologize. I cut him off by replying in French, which made his eyes widen and a hearty laugh escape his lips.

  “Your French is flawless,” he said. “Amazing. You are, as you Americans say, quite obviously, much more than just a pretty face.”

  “I hired her specifically to teach my girls how to speak French,” Spencer said. “If we're going to be living here, I want them to be able to communicate.”

  “Wonderful idea,” Charles said. “Very good, Spencer. Very good.”

  Charles' eyes roamed my body, looking me up and down. I could tell that he was undressing me with his eyes and was very much liking what he saw. He wasn't even trying to be subtle about it. My cheeks flared with heat again and I had to stifle the giggle that bubbled up in my throat. Spencer smacked him playfully on the back of the head and laughed.

  “You'll have to forgive Charles,” he said. “He's a bit of a playboy and lacks some social graces.”

  Charles shrugged. “Spencer overstates things. Playboy is hardly the word for what I am.”

  “Oh?” I said and laughed. “Then, what are you exactly?”

  “I am French,” he replied smoothly. “We appreciate good wine, beautiful art, and most of all, beautiful women.”

  I looked away quickly, the heat flaring in my cheeks once more. I wasn't used to being the center of attention, but these two rich, successful, gorgeous men, seemed to be vying for my attention. I would have been lying if I said it wasn't feeding my ego a little bit and making me feel good about myself.

  “I – I should probably see to the girls,” I said. “We have our first lesson today.”

  Spencer nodded. “Probably a good idea,” he said. “Charles and I need to discuss some business and you're clearly a distraction for him.”

  Charles laughed. “You have no suitable wine or art in this house,” he said. “Of course this beautiful woman is a distraction to me.”

  They turned and walked down the hallway toward Spencer's office, talking and laughing so loud, their voices echoed throughout the house. I watched them both walk away, admiring the view from behind – a view that was admittedly, quite nice.

  I shook my head and kicked myself mentally. “Knock it off,” I told myself. “You're not here for that. For any of that. Don't screw this up.”

  As I turned and walked back to the kitchen to finish my yogurt and check on the girls, I tried to banish the thoughts of the two men from my mind – and was only having limited success. Feeling the fluttering still in my belly as well as the dampness in my panties, I sighed.

  It was going to be difficult to work in this house.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SPENCER

  Seeing the way Charles had looked at Avery sent fire running through my veins. There was part of me that wanted to punch him square in the face for it. But, I had no claim on her. She wasn't my girlfriend. Hell, I couldn't even really call her a friend. She worked for me. She was my employee, and if she wanted to be involved with Charles, I couldn't stop her. I'd hate it, but I couldn't stop her.

  I laid awake that night, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself of this truth – and only had limited success at it.

  Why did it bother me so much to see another man flirt with my nanny? A nanny I hardly even knew? I licked my lips, remembering the way hers had tasted against mine.

  Closing my eyes, I imagined the softness of her breasts beneath my hands, recalled the way her chest rose and fell with excitement as I touched her. Even as I moved lower on her body, I knew she wanted it. But, we'd both been drinking, and it was wrong. So very wrong.

  Yet, even as I tried to talk myself down, the erection in my shorts was not going away. I was hard just thinking about her curvy little body pressing against mine. Thinking about the things I wanted to do with that beautiful body.

  I couldn't have her in real life – that would have been wrong – but I could, at least for now, have her in my fantasies so I could finally find some peace and get some sleep.

  The head of my dick was already glistening with pre-cum as I started stroking myself. With my eyes closed, I imagined Avery's hands moving up and down the length of my cock. I imagined her tiny, delicate little hands that wouldn't even fit around the girth of my erection, jerking my shaft.

  It wasn't just her hands I wanted though. No, I needed to feel her mouth on my stiff cock. I need to feel her licking and sucking, teasing the head of my dick with that tongue of hers, before taking me down into her throat.

  My body arched upward, a spasm of pleasure ran through me as I imagined that sweet little face staring up at me, down on her knees with her blue eyes fixed on mine. God, I would have done anything to fuck that pretty little mouth of hers, anything at all. If she wasn't my nanny, I would do it in a heartbeat.

  I wouldn't come in her mouth, though. No, I wouldn't stop at just a blow job. I needed her in ways I'd never needed another woman, besides Bree. I would bend Avery over the countertop in the kitchen, just like I'd wanted to do last night. I'd push her tiny little shorts down around her ankles. Then, with her ass bare, I'd stroke my cock against her opening, rubbing the head against her clit as she moaned, begging for me to fill her up. Begging me to fuck her.

  I'd have no choice but to happily bury myself deep inside of her.

  I tightened my grip on my cock as I imagined fucking her, imagined what her tight little pussy would feel like. But, no matter how I held it, my hand would never take the place of a woman. It had been two years since I'd had sex with anyone, and that person had been my wife. I almost forgot what it felt like, but I continued stroking myself, imagining what the walls of her pussy would feel like wrapped around my dick.

  Her moans would likely be soft, she was such a sweet girl. Just the idea of hearing her groaning in pleasure made my cock pulse in my hand. Before I could even stop myself or slow it down, streams of cum shot from the tip of my dick, and I spasmed, shuddering as pleasure ripped through me. My cum landed on my stomach, warm and wet, as I relaxed back into my bed with thoughts of Avery still floating through my mind.

  Exhaustion took hold of me, but I still had to clean myself up. Not having any tissues nearby, I climbed out of my bed and walked to the bathroom. Outside, in the hallway, I heard a door open and close. Grabbing a towel, I wiped up my mess and walked over to the door. Opening it up, I saw Lola walking down toward the other end of the hall. Fearing she might be sleepwalking, I called out to her.

  “Lola-bear?”

  She stopped, freezing in place as if she'd been caught in the middle of a crime. Tossing the towel on the floor of my room, I walked out into the hallway toward hers.

  “You okay, baby?” I asked her.

  She turned and looked at me, tears staining her cheeks.

  “I had a bad dream,” she said.

  I knelt down in front of my daughter, my heart breaking for her. She had a lot of bad dreams and night terrors – they'd started just after the accident. She'd been to countless therapists, but no one had been able to help her just yet.

  “You wanna talk about it, cupcake?” I asked, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

  She shook her head. “I want to sleep with Avery. If that's okay.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Has Avery said it's okay?”

  Lola nodded. “I went to her room last night too,” she whispered, her voice low as if she was ashamed of needing somebody to watch over her. “She said it's okay to come to her whenever I'm scared.”

  “You can come to me too, you know,” I said.

  “I know, daddy,” she said. “But Avery doesn't snore.”

  Couldn't argue with that. I chuckled and stood up, taking her hand in mine.

  “If you're sure Avery is okay with it, then alright,” I said.

  “She is,” Lola said.

  In a way, it
was nice to see my shy daughter taking to someone so fast, but it also scared me. Avery was so new to this family, and after what happened the other night, what if I'd really stepped in it? What if we'd crossed a red line there was no coming back from? I couldn't imagine Lola losing someone else she came to care for – not after she'd lost her mother. Not after everything she'd been through.

  No matter my personal desires or feelings toward Avery, I knew I had to behave myself around her. For my daughter's sake, if nothing else.

  We reached Avery's room, and Lola knocked gently. At first, it was silent, but then a voice mumbled, “Come in.”

  Lola opened the door and walked inside. I caught a glimpse of Avery sitting up in the moonlight. She didn't seem to see me.

  “Another nightmare, sweetie?” Avery asked.

  “Uh huh,” Lola said.

  “Come here,” she said, patting the bed beside her.

  Lola climbed into Avery's bed as I stood there in the doorway. Avery finally noticed me and gave me a small smile.

  “Is this okay?” she asked me. “She asked last night, and I didn't think you'd mind, but I should have –”

  “No, it's fine,” I said. “Thank you.”

  I almost felt like crying. Lola looked so sweet curled up with Avery. Knowing that she finally had someone who brought her comfort, was worth all the money in the world to me.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AVERY

  Things had been a little tense between Spencer and I, ever since the night in the kitchen. I was civil to my boss, but I intentionally kept myself distant to avoid temptation. He seemed to be doing the same, and it was almost like the kiss hadn't even happened. His business partner, on the other hand, was not about to let me slip away so easily.

  Charles was charming and handsome, I couldn't help but smile at his advances, even if they made me blush. He was still Spencer's business partner, and I knew I should tread carefully there.

  It was hard, considering the fact that he kept calling and texting me, sending me flirty little messages throughout the days. I couldn't deny that it often put a smile on my face, but he was incredibly forward. I blamed it on the cultural differences, with him growing up mostly in France and all.