by Jamie Knight
“Mmmm,” I moan out load, since I live alone, humping the water and wishing it was Daniel making me feel this good.
I cum so much that it seems like water is gushing out of me instead of just the faucet. Breathless, I lie back for a moment, seeing stars and feeling satisfied. After a little while, I decide it’s time to wash up and get out of the bath.
There’s someone I’ve been meaning to talk to.
“Hey girl,” Sally says, as soon as I wrap myself in my robe and call her.
“Hey! I wanted to tell you that that cake you made for the birthday party at the resort was amazing,” I tell her.
“Well, I’m glad you all liked it,” she says, always her humble self. “I wanted to be sure to make good on your referral, because I appreciate it.”
“You did way more than make good on it!” I tell her. “You knocked it out of the park.”
“Great,” she says. “Think they’ll have me back to make more?”
“I’ll definitely ask around,” I tell her. “But I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be working there. I know for sure, though, that the little boy and his dad really liked it. In fact…”
I trail off, unsure whether I should continue.
I want to tell Sally about my flirtation with Daniel and his offer to work for him, but suddenly I’m worried she’ll think I’m an idiot for even considering it. Just like Michelle did. Maybe it’s best if I make the decision on my own, although I have no idea what it will be.
“Well, there were lots of other kids and parents there,” I continue, finishing the sentence in a different way than I had planned. “You know what they say – word of mouth is the best advertisement, and I’m sure those kids will be talking about that fantastic cake for months down the line!”
“That’s so sweet of you to say,” she says. “But what do you mean you don’t know how long you’ll be working at the resort? Why not? I thought you liked it – at least as much as any of us can like jobs these days, ha. What happened?”
Leave it to Sally to be not only overly concerned but also very perceptive. And also to ask a million questions.
I should have known I couldn’t keep something this big from her. I decide to just come out with it, and I tell her all about what happened.
“Well, well, well, looks who’s gone and caught some feelings,” Sally says, when I finish telling her.
“Hey, no teasing,” I tell her. “I already feel dumb enough.”
“There’s nothing to feel dumb about!” she says. “Even the best of us fall in love. Look at Mike and me!”
“What you and Mike have is real love but that is not what’s going on with Daniel and me,” I protest. “It’s not even comparable in the slightest. It’s more like raging lust. I just met the man!”
“How do you think it started out with Mike and me?” she asks me. “We were just like this in the beginning.”
I guess she’s got me there.
“Come on,” I protest. “Not every crush turns into love!”
“That’s true,” she says. “But you certainly at least ‘like’ him – that other ‘L word’ that means a lot too. I’ve seen you go on Match.com dates and I’ve tried to hook you up with Mike’s friends and I can’t even remember a time when you liked a guy. So, this is huge. There is something in your voice. I can just tell you not only like him, but you really, really like him. That’s the two-r’s and an l phrase that is even more important.”
“That’s a phrase you just made up,” I laugh.
“Exactly. It’s a phrase that rare and special and important. Just like whatever you have going on with his single dad you’re so hung up on,” Sally continues, undeterred. “I think you should nanny for him not only because it’s very good money but also because I want to see what all happens down the road for you two. This is like my own personal soap opera I can live vicariously through.”
“Very funny,” I tell her. “I’m so glad that you can get your drama fix through my crazy life.”
I’m glad I talked to Sally about it and I’m secretly very glad that she thinks I should do it. Like most people, I think I just wanted validation of the choice I was leaning towards, rather than actual objective advice.
But I still can’t decide whether to take the nannying job or not; there are so many downsides. Just then, though, I get an incoming call from the resort, which prevents me from being able to devote any more time or energy at the moment to this nannying job dilemma.
“I have to go,” I tell Sally. “Let’s get together and catch up though.”
“Okay, have a good one,” she says cheerfully.
I hurry to accept the incoming call from work, wondering whether someone didn’t show up and thinking that maybe they need me to work an extra shift. Instead, the harsh voice of Marsha Landers from HR – a voice I only recognize from my intake paperwork when I started but which is famous around employee circles at the resort for being the one voice you do not want to hear on the phone – greets me.
“Catharine, I am going to have to let you go,” she says, as soon as I say hello.
I guess saying she is “greeting” me is too nice of a way to put it.
I had heard she was blunt and to the point, but this was really out there.
“I’m sorry?” I ask, shocked. “Let me go? As in, fire me? Why?”
“Did you or did you not talk about a guest and his son being rich and entitled? I believe your words were something to the effect of saying it’s not the kid’s fault that he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth but at least his dad is cute?”
“Woah,” I protest. “That’s really mixing up how things went down. It’s completely taking things out of context. I did say the thing about the spoon, but only in jest and in response to what Michelle was saying about…”
“Look, I don’t have time for all of this ‘she said, she said,” Marsha interrupts. “It’s clear that you participated in an inappropriate conversation about the guests, in front of or even to the guests, no less, so that is grounds for dismissal. You can come clean out your locker tomorrow and then please don’t return.”
Little does she know I don’t even keep things in there because it smells like moth balls, I think. Joke’s on her.
But I’m too stunned by what just happened to say anything in response, and it doesn’t even matter, because she quickly hangs up.
Woah.
I guess the conversation was inappropriate – I already knew that, which is why I was trying to get Michelle to shut up – and I guess I can even see how it could be grounds for dismissal. But I’ve always been a good employee and have no other issues on my record so I feel upset that she wouldn’t even get my side of the story.
Then I realize I’ve been so busy being mad that this happened that I haven’t even thought about how it did happen or could have happened.
Did Michelle get in trouble and blame me instead, or try to drag me down with her?
Does the ski resort have surveillance I don’t know about?
I tell myself it doesn’t matter, anyway. Now my decision about whether or not to work as Daniel’s nanny has been made for me. And maybe that’s a good thing.
Finally I’m thinking with my head instead of my heart, but only out of necessity. Now that I truly need money.
I pick up the phone and call him.
“Catharine!” he says, as if he’s glad to hear from me.
But he doesn’t sound very surprised.
Probably because he’s cocky and just assumed I would call soon.
Whatever.
I really need another job, apparently. I need to pay rent on my apartment and that’s not cheap in New York.
Plus, I already knew he was cocky, and liked him anyway, so what was I expecting?
“Daniel. I’m going to go ahead and take you up on that job offer.”
“Good,” he says, and I can practically see his grin through the phone line. “Charlie will be glad to hear it. And I have to admit that I am,
too. Let me give you my address and I’ll see you tomorrow at ten in the morning, if that’s not too soon of a starting date and time?”
There are butterflies making snow angels in my stomach as I say, “Okay, see you then.”
Chapter 5 - Daniel
When Catharine shows up, Charlie is already being a brat.
“I don’t want another nanny!” he is shouting, while having a full-on melt-down.
I’m so embarrassed I hurriedly apologize to Catharine, promising her that he isn’t normally this bad. Bad, yes, but not this bad.
“It’s fine,” she says, with a smile on her face. “I bet the little guy just needs to get out some pent-up energy. He also seems pretty tired. Has he been sleeping well?”
“Not really,” I admit, although I want to ask her to define “well” because he never sleeps that great.
“Hey, Charlie, do you want to make snow angels outside?” she asks him.
I look dubiously at Charlie for his response, which I suspect will be something along the lines of throwing an even bigger temper tantrum at any further suggestions. Instead, though, his face lights up.
“Yes!” he calls out. “I love snow angels!”
“You’re a genius,” I tell Catharine.
“No, I just happen to love snow angels myself,” she responds.
I head upstairs to start getting ready for work, shaking my head at how much better this arrangement is working out already than I thought. When I come back down, I find Charlie fast asleep on the couch.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding about him needing sleep,” I tell Catharine.
“Making snow angels tired him out,” she says. “He had fun, though.”
“Is that so?”
She’s looking at me expectantly, and I can’t help but move closer towards her, wondering if I should kiss her.
I know it’s better to refrain from mixing work and pleasure, but I just can’t seem to help it.
“Woah!” she says, pulling back from my very obvious gesture closer to her, but only slightly. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Sorry,” I tell her, even though I’m really not. “But you looked like maybe you were expecting something; I just must have been off base about what.”
“Yeah, a thank you would have sufficed,” she laughs.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “Sincerely. I really appreciate how you stepped in on your first day and figured out how to help. You must be some kind of Kid Whisperer.”
I can’t help but notice that she is the one who is moving closer to me now, while I’m saying this. Now she’s pressed up against me and I’m getting hard.
I feel like she expects something again, but for real this time. And I have never been a man to pass up on opportunity. Instead, I take whatever I want, and right now I want her. I kiss her, passionately, a lot more passionately than I would kiss any other woman for the first time, but she eagerly kisses me back just as passionately for a second before we break away to nuzzle our noses together like two middle schoolers.
“This is also nice…” she confesses. “In addition to the thank you, of course.”
“Of course,” I tell her, and then she steps back.
Just as quickly as the moment was upon us, it’s passed us by. Now I’m thinking logically again and I feel stupid and wrong for kissing my brand new employee. She is also backing up a few steps as if she feels the same way.
But it’s not completely doomed. It’s more just as if we both feel a bit awkward.
“Okay, I’m going to leave and head into the office now,” I tell her. “Make yourself at home and help yourself to anything and everything you might need or want while I’m gone.”
“Yes. Sure. Yeah.”
It’s as if she doesn’t know what to say but I do see her wave and smile at me as I leave.
I have a feeling that this little “oops” moment of us “accidentally” kissing isn’t over. Instead, it’s just the start of whatever might come to be between us.
Chapter 6 - Catharine
I can’t believe I kissed him, already!
I mean, I had a feeling deep down that we were going to kiss, eventually, but not right away.
What did I do? Why didn’t I do even more? Why didn’t he do more? I wanted him to take my virginity, damn it!
A million thoughts race through my mind as Charlie sleeps. I can’t help but think about all the ‘what ifs.’ I want to call Sally and talk to her about this but I’m afraid that Charlie will wake up and overhear my less-than-kid-appropriate conversation about his dad.
I decide to go into the bathroom and peel off my snow-filled clothes on the tile floor. Making snow angels will really get you messy and cold!
I eye his large, marble tiled shower and wonder if I should get in and warm up.
Why not? I decide. He had said to make myself at home, after all.
First, I grab a blue robe of his that I see hanging on a towel rack and go put my wet clothes in the dryer. Hopefully it won’t take too long for them to dry and I can put them back on when I’m out of the shower, I think.
Then I grab the gold, ornately decorated handle of the shower door and open it so that I can step in. I’ve never been in such a large personal shower – it has two showerheads pointing in the same direction, so that two people can be under the water at the same time.
I start to wonder about Charlie’s mom again. I’m pretty sure Daniel isn’t married, as there’s certainly no sign of a woman around this house, and there has been no mention of her. If she were at all involved in Charlie’s life, I think someone would have talked to me about the custody schedule and also that Daniel probably wouldn’t have offered me a nannying job on the spur of the moment without talking to her about it, first.
Soon the warm shower water has washed all the coldness away from me. I resist the urge to stay in the shower too long. I don’t want Charlie to wake up disoriented, wondering whether I left almost as soon as I had arrived. I hop out and dry myself off, then, wrapping the towel around me so that if Charlie is awake I won’t be showing him too much, I go check on my clothes in the dryer.
Damn.
They’re still not dry.
Returning to the bathroom, I hurry up and throw the robe back and I wrap my towel around my head to dry my hair. I scamper down the hallway to go check on Charlie, pulling the belt part of the robe up to put it around me. But the robe is large for me and the belt is a loose-fitting sash-like one that doesn’t help keep it on me very well so it’s half open. I hold it closed with my hands while I check in on him – he’s still asleep.
So then I start to head to the kitchen to grab some water when suddenly the front door opens.
I turn, wondering who it is and feeling embarrassed.
There was no knock first, so that must mean it’s Daniel, I think. But what if it’s one of his friends or something? Or what if it’s Charlie’s mom?
But as I peer at him I realize it is Daniel. He jumps when he sees me, and I do the same thing.
We both exclaim, “What are you doing…?” at the same time, but I finish by saying “here” and he doesn’t.
“What do you mean what am I doing?” I demand. “I’m watching your kid, like you asked me to do…”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he says, looking me up and down and apparently liking what he sees because his eyes are bugging out like that cartoon character’s always are.
I suddenly forget what his name is and I think about asking Charlie but I realize that wouldn’t be a kid-appropriate conversation, given the context.
“I know I told you to make yourself at home, but you really went and ran with that suggestion right away,” he says, chuckling. “I just didn’t expect you to be naked and…”
“I’m not naked,” I say, pulling his robe close after I realize it had fallen partially open again.
No wonder he had looked like he had seen a treasure chest full of gold.
“Yeah, you’re wearing my robe,” he says, stepping
closer to me. “And you look gorgeous in it, if I may add.”
“Thanks,” I said, blushing despite telling myself not to.
“Okay, I’ll go first in answering our mutual question about what we’re both doing. I just came back because I realized I forgot to leave you cash for Charlie’s lunch,” he explains.
“I assumed I’d just make him a sandwich,” I tell him.
He laughs as if he finds that suggestion to be both funny and cute at the same time.
“Don’t be silly,” he says. “The organic deli down the street makes great sandwiches and if you tip them well enough, they walk it down here and deliver it for free.”
“I bet they do,” I joke.
But he looks at me as if he doesn’t get the joke.
Rich people problems.
“So, now it’s your turn to answer. What are you doing in my robe?” he asks. “And with your hair freshly washed from my shower, I presume?”
I gulp, wondering if I’m trouble.
“I meant what I said, about making yourself at home, so I’m not mad,” he clarifies, causing me to sigh in relief. “Just curious.”
“Well, I was all wet, and…?”
“Yeah?” he asks, stepping even closer to me.
Really, really close.
Now his leg is partially in between my own legs, and pressing up against my pelvis a bit, as if to check to see if my claim about being wet is true. My naked pussy is so close to his leg. And I really am probably dripping juices through the thin robe and onto his pants leg, because he does make me soaking wet.
“Yeah,” I tell him.
Now he’s kissing me again, but even more deeply than last time, and he’s practically pulling me up the stairs.
“Where are we going?” I whisper, hoping Charlie doesn’t wake up yet.
“To my bedroom,” he says.
I can’t help but blurt out, “You mean that was just your guest bathroom down there?”
He nods and looks at me like I have a lot to learn, and I’m sure he’s right. As he brings me into his spacious bedroom with a large window and its gorgeous view of Central Park, it seems that first up is sex education, and I’m perfectly okay with that.