by Webster, K
He scratches at the stubble of his dark five o’clock shadow—which that too has a little gray in it—before pinning me with a harsh stare. “I have no doubts of your abilities. My children aren’t unruly, I just need some extra help with them.” When I chew on my bottom lip and stare at him with wide eyes, he continues. “My wife left us a few months ago and I’ve had trouble being both parents. The company I own stays busy. I find myself trapped at the office at all hours and when I’m not doing that, I’m entertaining clients. My boys are suffering. They need stability. Until now, I’ve relied on the help of neighbors and friends. It’s high time I’ve found a permanent solution.”
Babysitting.
Ugh.
I cringe because I don’t know what to do with babies or toddlers or kids. “Is this job as needed?”
His features darken. “No. Every day, I need you to pick the boys up from school and bring them home. Some days, Anthony has football practice. Other days, both boys have piano lessons. Aiden does eagle scouts as well. When they’re not at their extracurricular activities, I need you to make sure they’re doing their homework. Ever since...” he trails off and his scowl becomes murderous. “Ever since Samantha, their mother, left, both boys’ grades have slipped. I’d like to see them focusing on school again. Their grades are important.”
That part, at least, is something I do know how to do. I can handle a couple of elementary school kids. Surely. Picking them up may be a problem but I’ll figure something out. Maybe borrow Mom’s car some if I can.
“So this is a permanent job?” I ask, trying not to let hope seep into my words. If I can get a high paying job for the rest of the school year, I will certainly save up enough for my French trip. Even if it is babysitting mostly.
“Every day after school until I relieve you in the evenings. I’ll also need you to stay over some nights. If I have clients, I might require you to take the boys to games and rehearsals on Saturdays or Sundays. Will your parents allow this?”
I stiffen at the mention of parents. Dad died when I was fourteen of a massive heart attack. Mom hasn’t quite been herself since. “I’m an adult now. Plus, Mom works a lot of graveyard shifts at the hospital. Those hours are fine.” Staying overnight at a house like this wouldn’t be the worst. Kind of like staying in a hotel.
He relaxes and smiles at me for the first time since meeting him. That smile is warm—no, it’s hot—and heats me to my core.
“What do you say we meet the boys?” he suggests, his eyes lighting up at the mention of them.
I grin back and rise along with him from the sofa. Once again, I follow him but this time to a den where a television blares some rap music. He curses before storming over to the television to turn it off.
“Anthony. Aiden,” he says, his voice authoritative. “Meet your babysitter, Ava Prince.”
When a boy nearly as tall as his father and with the same striking gray eyes stands to greet me, I nearly shriek in shock. A second boy, an exact replica of the first, waves at me from the couch.
“We don’t need a babysitter,” the standing boy complains upon seeing me. “We’re almost fifteen.”
Humiliation ripples through me and my flesh heats. These boys I’m supposed to be watching go to my school! They’re only four years younger than I am. And they’re both taller than me.
“I, uh,” I stammer, my eyes darting to Mr. Blakely.
He simply clenches his jaw before gritting out. “It’s done, Anthony. There will be no argument.”
The boy storms off and soon a door slams elsewhere in the house. I jump at the sound.
“Why don’t you run home and pack a bag? I don’t have to meet Dane for another hour,” he mumbles and stalks off toward the front door.
Tonight?
He wants me to start tonight and stay over too?
Mr. Blakely doesn’t mess around.
But the sooner I can start earning twenty dollars an hour, the better.
I give the boy on the sofa a small wave before hurrying after his father. He’s already made it out the front door before I even enter the foyer. When I make it outside, he stands with his hands on his hips as he looks up and down the street.
“Where’s your car?”
Shame washes over me. “I—I don’t have one.”
He turns to scowl at me and it has me cowering under his gaze. “How in the hell were you planning on running around my children?”
Hot tears well in my eyes at his harsh tone and I cross my arms over my chest in an effort to seem tougher than I am. “I need this job. I thought I’d figure it out. Sometimes I can use my mom’s car.”
His nostrils flare. “Is that why you need the job? You’re saving up for a car?”
“No,” I squeak out. “I’d been saving for a trip to Paris with my French class this summer.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Leave your backpack in my office. I’ll run you by your house. We’ll figure out the transportation issue later.”
I’m stunned that he hasn’t fired me before I even started.
“Let’s go, mon trésor,” he barks.
It isn’t until I’m settled into his expensive Lexus that smells like him that I realize he called me his treasure.
The thrill that shoots through me has nothing to do with the AC blasting me in the face and everything to do with my new cold boss who let something warm slip out in the middle of a yelled order.
I don’t like boys.
It’s one of the things I’ve prided myself on.
While other girls got distracted by boys at our school, I ignored them all.
But Mr. Blakely is no boy.
He’s all man.
And I’m not sure I can ignore him even a little bit.
Chapter Three
Quinn
I’m so fucked.
Deeply fucked.
When I’d hired this girl to watch over my sons, I didn’t expect her to be so captivating. Innocent and sweet. Vulnerable. Beautiful. Hidden behind her black-rimmed glasses are the widest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. She reminds me of a child’s doll. Smooth, porcelain skin that hasn’t been subjected to years of Botox abuse like Samantha’s has. Her honey-colored brown hair was a sexy mess twisted on top of her head and held together somehow by a pencil of all things. Everything about her sang to me.
And just when I was about to send her on her way once I figured out she couldn’t even do half her job considering she didn’t have a vehicle, she told me what she was saving for.
Paris.
Not long after college, I’d taken a trip to Paris. It opened my eyes and my soul. I’d needed the break after busting my ass in school and it was exactly that. I spent two weeks finding myself in that romantic city. One of the few times in my life I let loose and didn’t try to keep an iron grip on everything I did. It inspired me to start my own company.
Sweet little Ava Prince just saved herself a job.
All because I saw a little of myself in her hopeful brown eyes.
“This street,” she whispers, the sound of her voice washing over me like a warm blanket. “Sixth trailer down.”
As I creep my Lexus down the street lined with old, decaying mobile homes, I can’t help but feel sorry for her. Sometimes, when I’m locked in my world, I forget that there are people who don’t have it as good as I do. It makes me want to grab up both Aiden and Anthony to show them just how lucky they are. To make them realize they are spoiled beyond belief.
“Just sit tight,” she instructs, nervousness making her voice shake. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Blakely.”
“Quinn. Please call me Quinn.”
Her lips tug into a sweet smile that makes my cock ache. “Ava.”
She bolts from my vehicle while I process her effect on me. The girl isn’t much older than my sons and I’m still bleeding from
Samantha’s wounds of betrayal. Last thing I need is to get hot over some young thing.
She’s not even that pretty.
I let out a snort of disagreement. I can’t even lie to myself.
Of course she’s pretty. Fuck hot would be the way to describe her. She plays it down with the messy bun, glasses, and nineties grunge style, but I see past the surface. The girl is fucking gorgeous and my dick certainly agrees.
Curiosity stirs within my chest with wonder. Would an eighteen-year-old girl even be interested in a forty something man? I huff and pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. Of course not. She’s better suited for my sons.
And yet... I can’t get the dirty images out of my head.
Images where I have her naked and pinned beneath me in the backseat of the Lexus. Thoughts of my driving into her tight heat while I nip at her pale throat. I wonder if she’s a virgin or—
“Sorry that took so long,” she breathes out heavily. “I had to feed my cat Lemon.”
I’m disgusted that I’m sporting a boner the size of Texas in my slacks. Her eyes are distracted as she nervously picks at the frayed strap of her bag.
I take the time to babble some bullshit just to keep her from noticing I’ve been fantasizing about her teenaged body beneath me. God, I’m a sick fuck.
“No television after nine. The boys know better. They have to be in bed by ten on weekdays and game nights. Sometimes I let them stay up until midnight. They’re not to cook because Aiden almost burned the house down once making a frozen pizza. Homework is an absolute must. Their grades are important to me.” I want to set some rules for her too but I hold back. For now. My cock twitches at the thought of giving her a bed time and spanking her creamy ass when she disobeys.
She turns to look at me and I can’t help but steal a glance at her while I drive. I like the way she nibbles at her plump bottom lip in a thoughtful way. “What do they do for fun?”
I snort. “What?”
Her chin lifts and she arches a dark eyebrow at me. “So far you’ve named plenty of stuff they can’t do and lots of stuff you want them to do. What are they allowed to do that they choose to do?”
If I let them, Anthony would probably have sex with every girl he knows and Aiden would probably die from clogged arteries. They’d run wild doing whatever they goddamned pleased and eating whatever the hell they wanted. No, my sons need rules and order always.
“Nothing, Ava.”
Her name rolls right off my tongue and it pleases me. I like her name. It sounds like a prayer.
“Nothing?”
“What do you do?” I challenge.
She looks out the window and shrugs. “Nothing.”
“And you’re a good girl. Your head is screwed on straight. That’s how it’s supposed to be.” But sometimes good girls need spankings too.
When she doesn’t respond, I glance over at her. Her neck turns pink but she keeps her head turned from me. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
I let my gaze roam over her body again. She’s tiny. A short, skinny little thing. The complete opposite of my ex-wife. Maybe that’s why I find her attractive. Unlike Sammie, Ava seems the type to submit to my controlling ways. To like being told what to do. To offer her sweet little ass when she messes up so I can punish her for being naughty.
If Dane knew I was about to nut in my pants over the damn babysitter, he’d be laughing his ass off.
It’s just a fantasy.
After my heart being cold for so long and my dick forgetting what it feels like to rush with blood, I’m happily enjoying these dirty thoughts.
The rest of our ride is quiet. When we get back to the house, I show her around. She lets out a squeal of excitement when I show her the theater room. On occasion, the boys and I will watch movies and fill up on popcorn. I love those nights. Pride swells in my chest because I think it’s awesome too.
“And here’s the room you’ll stay in on the nights I need you to stay overnight with them,” I gesture to the guest room beside the master. “The boys have been staying on the third floor. It was designed to be a media room but they begged until I caved. There isn’t much they can get into trouble with. When bed time rolls around, send them upstairs and you’re free to retire to your room. Any questions?”
She walks into the guest room that’s been decorated in whites and muted grays. An old wood and brass nautical wheel hangs above the bed and the decor is also ship themed down to the rope knots hanging from the headboard. For a brief moment, I wonder if it’s too masculine for a woman.
My dick twitches again.
I thought of Ava as a woman and not a girl.
She peels off her flannel shirt and my eyes home in on her immediately. Her breasts are small in her tight white T-shirt. A full B-cup on a good day. I blatantly eye-fuck this chick’s perky tits as I wonder what they’d look like with my teeth marks on them.
Calm the fuck down, Quinn.
I mentally berate myself for getting hard over this young woman. She practically screams virgin. The last thing I need to do is get involved with someone like her. A poor shy girl with no sexual experience—that’s a recipe for disaster. What would be a good romp in the sheets and a moment that would do amazing things for my ego, would mean something entirely different to someone like her.
I’m not Prince Charming.
I will not be sweeping anyone off their feet ever again.
“Can I use the shower later?” she asks, her nose scrunching up as she kicks off her shoes to get comfortable.
My eyes roam down her tiny body and I can’t help but imagine her naked, covered with suds. I clear my throat and turn my back to her as I pretend to check my phone when in reality I’m hiding the erection that’s been pointing straight at her for the past five minutes.
“Yes. Help yourself to everything.” Including me. My dick jumps in my pants.
“Thanks, Quinn.”
* * *
Dane drones on about his daughter Mel as we suck down some subpar draft beer but my thoughts are on Ava. I can’t help but wonder how she’s interacting with the boys. A part of me worries they’ll crush on their babysitter. But a bigger part of me worries they won’t be nice to her. Aiden, I don’t worry about so much. He’s a jokester but kind. It’s Anthony who has issues. A rebel by nature.
The kid came into this world pissed off. Kicking and screaming and red like a tomato. Sammie and I had the damnedest time trying to calm him. Eventually he settled but he was always on the broody side. Now that his mother up and left us and he’s a teenager, it’s gotten slightly out of control.
“You’re unfocused, man. What’s going on?” Dane asks, his eyebrow lifted in question. I met Dane years ago. He was one of my first clients. Needed some advertising and marketing done for his law firm. We stayed friends long after our business relationship ended.
I down my beer and shrug. “Just thinking.”
“About Samantha? The boys?”
The babysitter naked and sucking my dick. “Yep.”
“It sucks, Q. Trust me, I know,” he says with a sigh. “But you’ll get through it. The kids will get through it.”
I begin to loosen up once Dane has shots of tequila brought over. Little Ava Prince, my secret fantasy, will keep my boys out of trouble and give me some visual spank material later.
I’m imagining shooting my wad all over her pretty face when my phone buzzes. Ava.
Sorry to bother you. Anthony said you told them they could stay up and watch movies in the theater room. Is that true? I didn’t want to mess up on my first night.
Thoughts of her chewing on her bottom lip, a fretful look on her gorgeous face, has my cock aching badly. Maybe I’ll have to settle for some bar strange to scratch my itch. Not having been laid in well over three months is making me mental.
Anthony lies. He has a game tomorrow
. In bed by ten.
I glance up at the clock on the wall that reads half past ten.
Bed. Now.
It irritates me that he’s had the babysitter all of one evening and he’s already pushing boundaries. I knew this would happen but it’s still annoying as fuck.
I told him. He stormed off and slammed a door upstairs. :(
Her sad face bothers me. The sweet girl wears her emotions so easily for all to see on her sleeve.
Cheer up, mon ange.
As soon as I hit send, I flinch. I just called her my angel in French. Twice now I’ve slipped up with the endearments.
Maybe I’m not good at this whole babysitting thing. I’m better with spreadsheets and numbers. Not people.
“Problems going on at home?” Dane asks before tipping back his shot glass.
“Anthony giving the babysitter some trouble. Nothing new where that boy is concerned.”
I think you’re perfect.
She replies immediately.
Have you been drinking?
I snort and type back.
I don’t think that’s any of the babysitter’s business...
I smirk knowing her cheeks are probably blazing red. She backs down because she doesn’t respond. After a few more drinks, I wonder if I fucked up. Did I go too far?
I’m annoyed at myself for potentially having pushed her away. I shouldn’t be flirting with my children’s hot-ass babysitter. I need her to take care of my boys.
I let out a firm growl. I’m going to stop crushing over this girl like I’m the goddamned teenager. If I want sex, I’ll nail some bar fly. This girl is just a fleeting fantasy.
Convincing my dick, though, is going to be a lot harder than a quick pep talk.
Chapter Four
Ava
My eyes droop as I try to study for my Chemistry exam Monday. I’m beyond exhausted and I’ve barely done anything. I thought this job would be harder than it was but turns out, it’s just as lonely and boring as being by myself each night at home.