by Naomi Niles
“I was devastated, and my heart was broken. I didn't want her to see how hurt I was, so I ran into my bedroom and locked the door. I didn't come out for days until my father returned home."
"Oh my God. That's terrible." I could just envision the horrible scene in my mind, but I didn't know it was about to get even worse.
"My father knocked on my door. He said he had a birthday surprise for me, but when I opened the door, he punched me right in the face. He told me that Cheryl had told him what had happened between us. Then he beat me, hitting me again and again with his fists until I nearly lost consciousness, telling me I deserved it for being so disgusting. He said no one would ever love me. Not him, not Cheryl, no one."
"Your father had no right to abuse you like that." I felt tears stinging my eyes. "I hope you know he was wrong."
"I know. I decided then and there that one day I would have her for my own and prove that I was just as much a man as he was."
I had been referring to my love for Tate, and I'd been sure that my words would make him see that our love for each other proved that his father's abusive words were a lie – but what Tate had said stunned me.
"What are you saying?" I asked, clutching my stomach as if he'd punched me there.
"One day, I would take over my father's business and grow to be even richer and more powerful than he was. One day, I'd own this mansion where I'd grown up, rule over a household of servants and be the one in charge of all the people who lived and worked here, making the decisions that ruled their lives and bending them to my will. One day, I'd be able to fuck any woman I wanted – including blonde, beautiful nannies. That would be my ultimate revenge against him and her."
He reached out his hands towards me and pulled me roughly to him. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his erection digging into my hip. He grabbed my left breast and squeezed it before bringing his mouth down upon mine, drawing my lips apart as he took me passionately. I braced my hands against his chest and, using all my force, I pushed him back.
"Stop it. Get off me," I cried out, my voice trembling with anger and fear.
"What's wrong?" he asked with genuine confusion.
"You used me," I said with disgust. "You made me think that you wanted me, but all the while, I was just a substitute for her."
The way he glanced down at his feet let me know I was right. I circumvented him in a wide circle, heading back towards the mansion, and said, "You made me think you loved me, that what we shared was special, when the whole time I was just part of some revenge plot to get back at your father and the nanny who had rejected you. I'm just a prize to you and not a person. You don't really love me."
"You don't understand. It's not like that anymore. I truly love you," Tate said, clutching onto my arm. I wanted to believe him, but how could I trust him? I had a lot to think about and consider. I slapped his face, and he let me go. Pushing past him, I ran to the house and grabbed the doorknob leading back into the dining room.
"Come back." He started to run after me, but I held up my hands in a halting gesture.
"Leave me alone and don't follow me. I need to think."
I didn't look back until I was safely in my room with the door locked. I looked out the window at the garden below, and I could see Tate was still out there. He'd respected me enough not to chase me. Part of me wished he had, but that would only have made things worse. I needed time apart from him to process everything I had learned and to decide if I believed he loved me for me. If not, could I live with being his surrogate for Cheryl, or were things over between us?
Chapter Fifty-Eight: Tate
"Damn it!" I swore loudly into the phone, but my associate had already hung up from his end of the line.
It was the third business meeting I had ruined in the past week. With the murder scandal behind me, things should have been going great. The newspapers had all reported that it had been my chef and fitness instructor Stuart Haynes who had killed my previous nanny by allowing her to bang her head on the floor during sex.
Fortunately, homicide detective Mitch Miller had withheld the juicy tidbit that they had been fucking in the sex swing I kept in my hidden playroom when it happened. I guess he thought he owed me the favor after all those weeks of wrongfully accusing me of the crime, and I was grateful to him for his discretion.
The fact that Stuart had escaped gave the media something new to speculate on, and they kept reporting fresh “sightings” of him in the area every week, although the witnesses they had were all pretty questionable. As a result of the crime having been solved and the media now leaving me alone, my business was flourishing. I was making new deals and gaining new investors and clients – but I wasn't happy.
Rachelle refused to talk to me. Every night that she stayed away, I became more certain that she had decided to break up with me, and the next day I was more tense and miserable than the one before.
By Wednesday, it was affecting the way I behaved in meetings. By Thursday, I was actively driving people away with insults and unreasonable demands. When Friday's business deal ended in disaster, I knew I had to go talk to her. Whether she was going to dump me or not, it was the not knowing that was torturing me. She'd had enough time to think things over. It was time to confront Rachelle.
I strode from my office with purposeful steps right to her bedroom door and pounded on her door with confidence. It wasn't until she opened the door that I realized I had no idea what I was going to say.
She looked different. She'd left her hair down from the ponytail I'd always insisted she wear, and it hung softly to her shoulders. It was quite becoming, and I liked it at once. She was dressed differently, too. I'd only seen her in a dress or a skirt and blouse since I'd made it clear to her the dress code would be enforced after her first week on the job.
Now, she was once again wearing the clothes she'd had on those first few days: jeans and a tee-shirt. I could see her nipples straining against the cotton, and her ass looked sumptuous in the faded denim. My immediate erection strained in my slacks, and all I could say was what I was feeling in that moment.
"I've missed you so much." My voice was hoarse with emotion.
"I told you to leave me alone. I need time to think." She glared at me, but not before I'd seen the look on her face when she'd first opened the door to find me standing there. Her blue eyes had dilated, and the faintest smile had curved her lips before she'd forced it into hiding. She’d missed me, too. Knowing that gave me the courage to continue on.
"I know, but I've given you time. Now it's my turn to talk."
"I think you said enough in the garden. You used me to fulfill your fantasy of some other nanny. You never loved the real me." She started to slam the door in my face, but I blocked it open with my foot. Rachelle started kicking me in the shin, trying to get my foot out of the way so she could lock me out.
"Okay, you're right." I decided just to come clean with the truth. Rachelle stopped kicking and stared at me with large eyes.
"At first, I was looking to fulfill a fantasy. I'd loved Cheryl for so long; actually, lusted was more like it. I was just a horny teenager with raging hormones whose sexuality had awakened with the arrival of one girl. I thought those feelings I was having and pleasure I felt was purely because of her, and I called it love. Plus, I'd never received any real affection or attention from either of my parents. Cheryl gave me all of those things combined, and in my misguided youth, I thought it was because she could love me, too.
“When she rejected me, it hurt, but I never stopped longing for her. My desire to be with her, make love to her, and have her for my own continued to burn inside me as part of my unresolved psyche.
“After my father died and I moved back into this house, I was determined to resolve a lot of those issues. I broke up some of his favorite business deals, selling the companies off in parts and making more money than he ever had. I went to clubs, meeting gorgeous women and bringing a new one home to fuck every night before discarding
her like she was nothing. Missy was just one another faceless pussy I used to get off on one night at a party. She meant nothing to me, and I never thought I'd see her again."
"What a charming way to speak about the mother of your child." Rachelle glared at me, and I realized the conversation was heading off track. I had to focus on the message I was trying to get across to her.
Desperately, I said, "But having Halle changed everything. When I brought her home, it was my chance to finally achieve closure. No longer the child cowering before an abusive father, I was now the parent of a child of my own. I vowed to give Halle all the love and nurturing I never received as a boy, and in doing so, I was finally able to forgive my father for his failings."
"That's wonderful; so why did you even need to hire a nanny at all? Oh, I know, so you could fulfill your childhood fantasy of fucking Cheryl," Rachelle snapped bitterly.
"You're right." There was no point in trying to deny it. She would have stormed out if I had, and I never would have been able to get her to speak to me again. "There was a part of me that still longed to fuck my childhood nanny, but it wasn't conscious, at first.
“In the beginning, I was sincerely looking for someone who could watch Halle when I was working during the day and keep an eye on her so I could entertain women at night. I didn't even make the connection that I was only interviewing women who looked like Cheryl – young blondes with long legs and big boobs.
“Once I realized it, I thought I'd found the perfect solution to the one thing in my life that still caused me the most humiliation and pain. I found women who were willing to have sex with me, but just for fun, I made it part of their employment contract, so I could include a non-disclosure clause and keep any of them from sharing my kinky fetish to the media. It was enjoyable on a physical level, but not nearly as satisfying emotionally as I had expected it to be. Not until I found you."
"Give me a break." She slammed the door on my foot so hard, I winced in pain, but I managed to keep it wedged in the door, refusing to let her lock me out. I had to tell her what I should have said that night in the garden, or I'd lose her forever.
"No, it's true. You have to believe me," I insisted. "I've only truly loved two people in my life: my mother and Halle. I thought I loved Cheryl, but I see now that was just infatuation. When she turned me down that night when I was fifteen, I'd been crushed.
“I thought I'd never know true love, and for most of my life, that was true. All those women I'd fucked over the years… I never loved any of them. Not even Missy, although I tried to love the mother of my child. Then, I met you, and everything changed.
"Things between us may have started out as me trying to fulfill my fantasy of fucking my childhood nanny – but it turned into so much more. When I look at you, I don't think of her. When we make love, I'm not thinking of anyone else. I know it is you and how much I love you. Please believe me."
Rachelle looked at me with her liquid blue eyes shimmering and finally released her grip on the door. I waited breathlessly for her response when suddenly Missy through open the door to the nursery and stormed at me with her fists flying.
"You fucking asshole, lying son-of-a-bitch." She screamed a string of incoherent curse words at me. I hadn’t even realized she was there, but I should have since she had been watching Halle this past week while Rachelle took some time to think.
Rachelle watched in shock as Missy punched and slapped at me with surprisingly strong little hands, screaming all the while. "You were supposed to love me, not this whore. I'm the mother of your child. I was the one who first dressed up like a nanny for you, with that blonde wig on, allowing you to play your sick games for a price.
“How could you love her and not me? I was the one who kept all your secrets. I was the one who gave you a child. I even saved your life. And what do a get in return? You telling yet another nanny that you love her. Your father was right. You're a sick pervert, and we're all fools for falling for you when we should be running away as fast as we can."
I caught Missy by the wrists to fend off her attack. She wrenched herself free and ran down the stairs, crying hysterically.
"Are you all right?" Rachelle asked with concern.
"I'll have some bruises, but I'll be okay."
"Not you, her." She pushed past me to where Halle was standing in the doorway of the nursery looking utterly terrified. Rachelle scooped her into her arms and held her lovingly, soothing away the trauma the little girl must have felt after witnessing such a scene.
I reached out and said, "Let me help you."
"It's okay. I've got this," Rachelle said, and Halle clung to her neck even tighter. I knew it was best just to leave them alone.
Still, I said to Rachelle, "Can you come to my room tonight after she's asleep so we can finish talking? There's so much more I want to say to you."
"We'll see."
Knowing there was nothing else I could do, I retreated to my office and shut myself inside, hoping I hadn't lost my one chance to mend things between us.
Chapter Fifty-Nine: Rachelle
After days of thinking, I'd finally made up my mind. The secrets he'd revealed in the garden had been unforgivable. I couldn't live with a man I had given my heart to when he was just using me as a surrogate for someone else. I deserved more than that. I deserved real love.
I had just closed my suitcase when he'd knocked on my door and delivered his surprising speech. I could see the emotion in his eyes, and I knew he was speaking from the heart. I'd been ready to kiss him and tell him I forgave him, but then Missy threw her dramatic fit, beating her fists against him while screaming those horrendous things at him. As awful as it was to witness, Missy's tantrum had shocked me from the daze his flowery words had put me under.
Tate was so sexy and charismatic, it was easy to fall under his charm – especially when he put his lips on mine. Missy's style of communication was equally effective. She called things as she saw them and didn't hold back to spare anyone's feelings. As much as I despised her, I needed an outside opinion.
Was Missy right? Was I a fool for falling for Tate when he was just using me to live out his fantasy of another girl?
Of course, Tate had readily admitted that things had started out that way, and he looked so sincere when he pledged his love for me and said that things had changed. That I had been the one to change his heart and that he loved me for me. Of course, that could be part of his trick, or he could even be too caught up in his own perversion to know what was the truth and what was a lie.
There was only one way to find out.
I pulled a pair of scissors out of my dresser, grabbed the long golden ponytail he always made me wear, and cut it off. Using the scissors, I carefully cut and styled my hair into the short and sassy look that I felt most comfortable in. It had been my favorite hairstyle for most of my life. I'd only grown it out long as an experiment, and I hated it. I would have cut it short again, but then Tate had told me a ponytail was part of the mandatory dress code, just like the skirts and short dresses.
From then on, I would dress as myself in jeans and tee shirts. I would show him the real Rachelle Clare and how I looked before he had changed me with his dress codes and his rules to see if he still found me just as attractive.
I would make love to him the way I wanted to and not just follow along with the games he had taught me to see if he still desired and lusted after me just as much. I would show Tate Holland who Rachelle Clare really was, and then I would know if he really loved me for me.
Feeling confident and proud, but also a little nervous and unsure, I knocked on his bedroom door. Tate opened it and stared at me with shocked surprise.
"Rachelle, you look so different." He reached out to touch my short locks. Then his hand caressed my face as he smiled. "You look absolutely beautiful."
"Not quite your style, is it?" I asked with feigned confidence, but inside, I was terrified he would reject me. I shouldn't have worried.
"Completely my styl
e." He grabbed me and kissed me with such overwhelming passion, it stole my breath away. He hugged me to his chest, crushing my breasts to him, and I melted into his embrace. God, how I have missed him. When he finally let me go, he stared at me with hopeful eyes and asked, "Please tell me you've come here tonight to say you've forgiven me and you'll accept me."
"It took a lot of courage for you to show me the real you," I conceded. "Yes, I'll accept you, but only if you'll accept the real me."
"Absolutely," Tate said joyously. He pushed the bedroom door closed and slammed me back against it, kissing me hungrily. His hands all over my body felt wonderful, but almost too aggressive. Tate was like a starving man about to devour his first meal – but he needed to slow down and savor it.
"You've been a naughty girl," he said playfully, tugging off my jeans. "I told you to always wear skirts or dresses so I could access your pussy anytime I wanted. These jeans mean you need a spanking."
"Not anymore." I blocked his hand just as it was about to come down on my bare ass, and Tate stared at me in shock. I twisted his wrist painfully so that I could easily control him, and he winced in pain. "We've been doing things your way because I thought I had to, but tonight I'm going to show you how I like things and we'll see if we're really meant to be together."
"What's your way?" Tate's eyes danced with curiosity.
"Get down your knees," I commanded powerfully.
"Oh, bossy. Sounds like the nanny plans to punish her naughty boy with a spanking." Tate's eyes sparkled. "You know I have a nanny fetish, but I always liked being the domineering boss. I never tried playing the game as the bad boy who needs to be punished."
He sunk down on his knees and looked up at me eagerly, but he didn’t quite understand.
Grabbing him by the hair, I tugged it roughly to gain his attention. "Let's get away from the nanny games. BDSM play isn't always about one person being naughty and needing to be punished; sometimes it's about honoring each other in bed, and one person wanting to reward the other as a form of worship or reward of appreciation."