Protecting Rayne

by Emily Bishop

“Nervous?” I arch an eyebrow at her. “Is that why you won’t approach my desk, too?”

  “Well, that’s because I’m not so sure how I smell.” She sniffs her arm. “I’m pretty sure I got rid of the smell of the tomato sauce but I feel like I can still get a hint of soy sauce.”

  I’m tempted to offer to smell her but I don’t.

  “I’m sure you smell fine,” I say instead. I tap my pen on my desk. “But that’s not the reason you’re nervous, right?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “I guess I still am feeling a little guilty about last night, about pulling you in, I mean.”

  “It’s not like you did it on purpose.”

  “No, but I still feel responsible. Like you said, I caused trouble.”

  “No. That’s not what I meant at all. I was just worried that David is being more of a bad influence on you than you are being a good influence on him – I mean, look at this stuff he’s making you do – but I’m sure things will turn around. No need to apologize.”

  “Still. I thought I’d apologize by bringing you some coffee.”

  “Coffee?”

  She’s not holding any mugs, though.

  “Are they invisible?”

  She chuckles. “No. I left them on the table outside just in case you didn’t want them.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Go ahead. Bring them in.”

  She leaves the room and returns with two mugs, placing one on my desk.

  “It’s the usual,” she says.

  “Please sit.” I gesture toward the chair. “Come to think of it, we didn’t get to finish our coffee the other day.”

  “You’re right,” Sabrina agrees. “The past two days have been quite chaotic.”

  I pick up my mug and take a sip. “Well, if this is your apology, then apology accepted.”

  She smiles.

  “Is that all you’re worried about?” I ask her, setting down my mug.

  “Well…” She sets down her mug, too. “I was wondering if you had some free time today.”

  “I think I have some after lunch. Why?”

  “You see, David told me about his third challenge.”

  “I hope this one’s not disgusting,” I say.

  “No, it’s not, but it’s a bit difficult. He wants me to beat him at a video game.”

  “A video game?” I look at her in surprise.

  “Yes. He said girls usually suck at video games so I should prove we’re not by beating him. After that, the deal’s done and we can just get along.”

  I lift my mug again. “So, what’s the problem?”

  “I’ve never played video games. We didn’t have an Xbox or a PlayStation or a Wii or any of those.”

  We? So she did have a family. At least she grew up with someone.

  “I don’t know the first thing about playing video games.”

  I nod. “I see the problem.”

  “Luckily, we aren’t playing until Friday night because he can’t play video games on weeknights. Even so, I need to practice and if I’m going to practice, I have to learn first. And I was wondering if you could help me with that. You know, just teach me the basics.”

  “The basics?”

  “He didn’t tell me what video game we were going to play but I should be fine if I just know, like, what keys to press or get a feel for the controller. Or maybe we can go through all the games in his collection if there aren’t that many. But we won’t play them all.” She waves her hands. “Just like check them out.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “You want me to play some video games with you?”

  “Yup. That’s it. If it’s not too much trouble, of course.”

  I want to say yes in a heartbeat. My mind is screaming it. But the thing is I don’t know much about video games myself. Like Gil said, I’m no good with modern technology unless it’s incorporated into gym equipment. I’m especially bad with modern gadgets, including game consoles.

  “Do you mind?” Sabrina asks, looking at me hopefully as she holds her mug in both hands.

  Oh, what the heck. At least, I have played a video game before. Once with David. We could learn together.

  “Sure. We can have a go at it after lunch.”

  Back to Childhood

  Sabrina

  How on Earth do people play these things?

  I ask myself the question as I sit on a bean bag in the den, a controller in my hand.

  For the past hour, I’ve been shooting at zombies coming at me from all directions. I keep dying, though, getting devoured by them. Right now, I’m at Wave 5 and I’m down to just one life, which means I’m close to Game Over. Again.

  “Ugh.” I press the buttons. “I hate zombies.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Zombie’s ears perk up.

  “Not you, Zombie,” I tell him. “I know you don’t eat brains.”

  I’m not the only one who’s struggling, though. Randall, who’s sitting behind me on the couch, seems to be doing even worse, judging from the grunts and curses he’s been giving.

  “I give up,” he says finally, putting his controller on the table as the words ‘Game Over’ appear in red on his side of the screen.

  I stay alive for just a few seconds more before dying, the same words flashing on my side of the screen.

  “I guess we’re both not cut out for this, huh?” I put my controller beside his.

  “You can say that again.” He sighs. “I thought video games were supposed to be fun but this one’s damn hard. How does David play this for hours?”

  I give him a puzzled look. “If you didn’t like video games, why did you agree to play with me?”

  He shrugs. “I thought it would be fun.”

  In spite of myself, I blush, looking away.

  “Well, clearly, it isn’t. You’re getting frustrated and I’m getting frustrated.” I sigh. “If only I had stuff like this growing up.”

  “What did you have?” Randall asks.

  “Trees. Chickens. Pigs.”

  “You grew up on a farm?”

  Oops. Did I say too much?

  “Yeah, pretty much,” I confess since I can’t take my words back.

  “With your parents or grandparents?” Randall asks.

  Why is he being so inquisitive all of a sudden?

  “Parents,” I tell him, shifting my legs.

  “But they’re gone now?”

  “Yup. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m just curious about how you were, your childhood.”

  “It was simple but still fun,” I say as I fidget with my hands, remembering. “We didn’t have all this technology but I was never bored. Even when I was just sitting up in a tree, I was having fun.”

  “Yeah. Kids get bored so easily now.”

  “How about you?” I ask him. “How was your childhood?”

  “Okay, I guess. My parents liked to travel. A lot. And they liked hosting parties, too.”

  I glance at him. “Well, that’s what rich couples do, don’t they?”

  “I liked the trips but I hated the parties. I’d sneak out of them and just play in my room or watch TV.”

  “I’d do the same.”

  “I still don’t like parties that much but I have to go to one every now and then. It’s part of my job.”

  “Going to parties as part of your job.” I nod. “It can’t be that hard.”

  He snorts. “That’s because you’ve never been to these parties.”

  “I thought all parties were the same. You talk. You drink. You dance. Not necessarily in that order. And you try to find out some drunk person’s secrets.”

  “You left out the making out.”

  For some reason, I blush, imagining Randall making out with someone at a party, just like those couples at Vince’s party. Of course, he probably does that. He’s single, after all. A lot of women must go after him. There’s no question about that.

  The question is: Why am I jealous?

  �
�Have you gone to a lot of parties?” Randall asks.

  “Not really. The music is usually bad.”

  “So, you like music?”

  Shit. I’ve said too much again.

  “A bit,” I say.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  Uh-oh. “You’re already asking me one.”

  “I’d like to ask another, something I should have asked before you started working.”

  Now, I’m curious. “What?”

  “Why did you decide to become a nanny?”

  Oh, that. And here I thought he was going to ask if I had a boyfriend or if I was a virgin.

  Still, the question isn’t so simple nor can I give a simple answer, mainly because I didn’t decide to become a nanny. What do I say?

  “Well, I’ve been trying a bunch of stuff, and I thought I’d give this a try.”

  “Oh. So it’s an experiment?”

  Not really, but… “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  “And what other jobs have you had before? I’m only asking because they weren’t listed in your file.”

  He was looking at my file?

  “Oh. Carol probably didn’t list them down because they’re only odd jobs that last like only a few weeks long and some were just like once a month.”

  Randall nods. “I see. So, that’s why.”

  What did he think?

  “Anyway, do you want to play just one more game?” I ask in hopes of distracting him from asking more questions, stretching my arms. “I have to keep at this if I want to beat David.”

  He glances at his watch. “Okay. We still have time.”

  “Cool.” I go through the games on the floor. “Why don’t we play a different game? How about… a racing game?”

  I lift the cartridge.

  “Sure there’s no weightlifting game?” Randall asks.

  “Very funny. Well, maybe you should have one made.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “So, racing game?”

  “Okay.”

  I put the cartridge in and hand him his controller.

  He goes down to the floor. “So, if I win, do I get a kiss?”

  I freeze.

  Randall laughs. “Just kidding. I thought it would be more interesting if we put something at stake, since you are all about playing for stakes. How about if I win, you’ll go to the gym with me again. Just cardio. If you win, you can ask for whatever you want.”

  Oh, good. He was just kidding about the kiss. Still, whatever I want?

  “Fine.” I reach for my own controller. “Let’s do this.”

  Taking a deep breath, I start the game, both Randall and I going through the tutorial before heading to our first racing battle.

  “Ready?” I ask him.

  “Ready.”

  At first, I struggle with the controls, always slipping off the tracks but eventually, I get the hang of it.

  Come on. Come on.

  At the end of three minutes, I win.

  “Yes!” I cheer, giving Randall a hug.

  Wait. What?

  As I feel his chest against mine, my heart starts pounding. I can feel his heart doing the same, too, and I quickly pull away, blushing.

  “Sorry,” I say.

  “For what?” He puts down his controller. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” I put a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “So, what do you want? You won, so you can ask me anything.”

  Right. I can’t seem to think of anything, though.

  Think, Sabrina.

  “Surely, there must be something you want,” Randall says.

  I look at him, my gaze wandering over his arms. I want to see his bare arms again, to be wrapped up in them, to be scooped in them and…

  No. I mustn’t want him.

  “Maybe just a new lipstick,” I say the first thing that comes to mind. “My old is almost out.”

  “Sure. I’ll ask Tess to get you one. Anything else?”

  I blink. I thought I was only allowed one.

  He looks into my eyes. “You know, if there’s anything you want to tell me or anything you need help with, anything at all, feel free to tell me, okay?”

  “You mean about David?”

  “Or about you?”

  About me. Anything I need help with.

  I have to say it’s tempting to ask him to punch Vince for me but no. That’s my problem. I can’t get Randall involved.

  I shrug. “I can’t think of anything, but if there is, I’ll let you know.”

  He smiles. “Great.”

  I look away from that smile, stilling my beating heart as I get on my feet. Once again, it seems to have been a bad idea to be in a room alone with Randall.

  You should be more careful, Sabrina.

  Yes, I should be, which is why I’m leaving now.

  “I better go,” I tell Randall as I glance at the clock. “David will be home soon.”

  “Sure. I need to get back to work, too, or Tess might get mad at me.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” I look at Zombie, who’s in the corner. “Come on, Zombie, let’s go wait for your master, okay? I bet he can’t wait to play with you when he gets home.”

  ***

  David, however, doesn’t seem happy when he gets home. He looks sad, in fact, and frustrated. He changes his clothes without a word then he goes to his drums, banging on them.

  “Hey.” I go to his side. “What’s wrong?”

  He doesn’t answer, banging his drums louder.

  “You can tell me, you know.”

  Still nothing.

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “Everyone has bad days at school. Even I did. Some days, I got a bad test score or got yelled at by the teacher. Some days, someone was mean to me and made me cry. Some days, I just couldn’t understand the lessons. That’s all part of school.”

  He still doesn’t answer, so I leave his side, sitting on a chair near him.

  “I can see you’re using the music to express your anger. That isn’t bad. I used to do the same.”

  “You played drums?” he asks, looking at me.

  “I played guitar,” I confess. “I know someone who was very good with drums.”

  “Josh thinks he’s the best at drums,” David says, stopping. “But I’m going to show him at the school recital.”

  “Wow. You’re going to be at the school recital?”

  He nods.

  “Who’s Josh?”

  “I thought he was my friend but then he beat me in the spelling contest at school today, and now he’s saying he’s the best at everything.”

  “Well…” I go back to his side and put my hand on his shoulder. “Everyone is good at something. You don’t have to be the best at everything, you know, because you can’t.”

  “But I am the best at playing drums,” David says.

  “I believe you, and during your recital, everyone else will, too.” I touch the tip of his nose. “Including Josh. Then you can be friends again, if you still want to be. I think friends should be people who stand by your side no matter what, but it’s also good to give people a second chance.”

  David nods. “I think I want Josh to be my friend again.”

  “Then I’m sure he will be.”

  He looks at me. “Are you a teacher? Because you sounded like a teacher just now.”

  I chuckle. “No, but there are things I can teach you if you let me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how to put some gel in your hair and how to climb trees.”

  His eyes grow wide. “Climb trees?”

  “And how to make different animal sounds and how to…”

  Desire

  Randall

  Listening outside David’s bedroom to David and Sabrina laughing, I smile.

  It seems like those two are already getting along, even though Sabrina has yet to pull off the third challenge, which I’m sure she will based on how she played today. It just goes to show how amaz
ing Sabrina is.

  Indeed, I wasn’t kidding when I told Gil she’s the best nanny so far. Some of the previous ones were good, yes. Some were really bad, obviously only after living in a mansion or getting into bed with me. Still, Sabrina is the only one who’s really made an effort to reach out to David and understand him, to be his friend.

  As a father, I feel really relieved. Finally, David has someone here at home that he can really be comfortable with and count on, someone like a mother.

  As a man, I feel slightly jealous of the progress David and Sabrina have made. What about us? Have we made some progress? David has already won her head over heels. What about me?

  Looking back, I’ve had a few moments I could have seized. There were times that I could have just grabbed her by the waist and kissed her, like yesterday at the gym and earlier in the den.

  Still, I held back, not wanting to rush things and scare her or maybe I was the one who was afraid she would push me away. Like I said, I’ve never gone after a woman before so I don’t know.

  Me, afraid? Funny. I’ve never been scared of anything before.

  Or maybe I just want her to make the first move, to want me as much as I want her.

  Yes. That’s probably it.

  Still, I wonder what would have happened if I had just gone ahead and kissed her…

  ***

  We’re back in the weight room now, and she’s bending low in a squat. I’m spotting her. My hands brace her slim hips as she straightens and her ass is plush and firm against my swollen manhood. She descends again and I go with her, my pulsing length nestled against her, her thighs inside mine. I love how she opens up for me when she goes into a full squat, and I imagine how it would feel to reach between her legs from this vantage point.

  I know that I can’t—I shouldn’t even be imagining this, she’s David’s nanny—but no one can see this. There’s no one here but me and her. One little touch won’t kill us, will it?

  My fingers slide from her hip to her mons, then down, treasuring every warm ridge beneath my hand. Her compression pants leave nothing to the imagination. I feel every curve of her spread labia through the thick spandex, can even feel the nub of her clitoris, and Sabrina’s mouth opens in a silent gasp of surprise.

  “What are you doing, Randall?” she whispers.

  “Just a little massage,” I promise against her ear, begging her to let me continue. “Relax, Sabrina . . .” My thumb strokes firmly down the center seam of her crotch. “Relax.”