Steel-blue ones, tinged with shadow and darkness. Cold, broken, lonely.
Oh fuck.
I look toward the door and see what I’m hoping for glinting in the light; a tiny latch lock, and I leap up off the bed and slide it closed as silently as I can. Before I can stop myself I’m unbuckling my jeans and unzipping them - just enough - before slipping silently beneath the airy covers.
My fingers quickly find my warmth, and I blush at how wet my panties already are. I’d be mortified if he knew. I slide up and down and then quickly begin to circle myself as my mind fills with flashes of dirty imagery, like old celluloid flickering in a gaudy cinema.
As I close my eyes I imagine I can hear Mr Ledger’s footsteps in the dark, the door to my room opening slowly, his face in the moonlight as I lie in wait for him, quivering beneath the covers, feeling the weight of his body as he slides in beside mine and the warmth of his forbidden touch.
‘Yes,’ I gasp as a wave of taboo pleasure gushes through me, and I keep going, faster and harder.
I need this if only so I can stop thinking about him for thirty seconds. Normally I like to take my time when I touch myself, but this is fast and raw and somehow it feels dirtier than ever.
And fucking amazing.
‘Fuck,’ I gush.
Imaginary fingers run down my spine and over the peach fuzz of my ass, gripping my thighs and parting me hard as his member finds its way between my legs, and then he pushes up and inside me-
‘Yes,’ I whisper, bucking hard, arching my back, kicking away the covers as the heat becomes too much.
-his thick cock thrusting urgently between my swollen lips as his powerful arms wrap around my tiny frame and then he comes, his seed pumping into my tight little passage as he groans hard into my ear and holds me-
And a moment later I climax, shuddering sharply beneath the sheets, gasping for breath as my eyes slowly close… drifting away, my hand still resting between my thighs, the soft material of the pillow cool against my skin.
And I’m gone.
Dreaming…
*
What the fuck am I doing?
I should be sending this girl packing. I should’ve turned her around the moment my dick got hard from just looking at her. I can’t have that kind of distraction in my life right now. It’s not right, and it’s not fair. I’ve got three little girls who need me more than ever, and whose nanny walked out on us without notice, or even a cursory goodbye.
They’re already crushed, heartbroken, and in Thea’s case, something more, and I can’t put them through that again. I need to give them stability, and I can’t do that if every time their nanny walks into the room my heart starts pounding and my hands start shaking. And yet, I can’t bring myself to say the words I know I have to… because she’s the most goddamn beautiful creature I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.
For a moment I feel a lightning bolt of shame as my own thoughts hit me, but then I laugh and shake my head. Lucy was bi-sexual, and she’d have been thinking the same damned thing. She’d point out pretty girls to me whenever we’d go shopping. She’d show me smoking hot clips of actresses in shows she’d binge-watched during the day. There’s no doubt in my mind that if she’d been here, still with us, she’d have been flashing her usual expression at me the moment Mackenzie had walked in, and then she’d have probably spent all morning dropping hints about a three-way.
I look up at my wife’s photograph again and smile, her sweet eyes glistening in the light of the sun, and then I look down at my feet and take a breath.
Mackenzie. Where the fuck is she anyway? I look at the clock and sigh.
The only way I can make this work is by being tough on her, by setting clear boundaries and rules that another nanny might baulk at, but she’s keen and young, so she might just go for it. If I can keep her in line and strike a balance between us, a clear boundary, then maybe I can control myself, and if she doesn’t like it, she can walk.
‘Kenzie,’ shouts Harpy full of joy, her little legs drumming against the seat legs, and a moment later I feel her presence enter the kitchen and I look up, and my heart damn near stops.
She’s changed.
Gone are the stripy conservative top and the tight high-waisted jeans. In their place is a halterneck, knee-length, red summer dress, revealing two sweet and pale calves, long arms speckled with hints of fine red hair, and a slender neck that I want to bite.
Fuck.
I feel like I’m falling forward as I look at her. Her face is flushed, and her hair is mussed, and her freckles seem to have popped… and her eyes-
‘I’m so sorry, Mr Ledger,’ she says, with a voice that could calm a bear. ‘I got caught up unpacking.’
She didn’t.