Chapter 2

Holden

The golden envelope holds the words I’ve read several times over the past few years. I rarely visit Mystique Island. When I do, it’s to catch up with my twin brother, Joey, because he’s out of town doing business for us most months. In fact, I haven’t seen him in almost half a year.

He’s been in Japan for ages.

Joey’s my total opposite in everything except looks.

He’s the bad version of me. He’s a party animal, a man who is always free and never settles down.

Joey will take a look at this envelope and its invitation and hop on a flight and boat ride to Mystique whether I go or not.

He loves fucking, and he loves parties. That’s Joey.

But I’m not him. I’m the responsible dad. Or I was until the fucking divorce ripped my family in two. It was an amicable resolution, but it still messed with Jessie, and that eats me up inside.

I walk to my king-sized bed and sit down on the pale blue sheets. I turn the envelope over and over in my hands, shaking my head.

I have a whole weekend to myself, and I promised I’d go to this damn island, if only to catch up with my brother. It’s my excuse.

The truth is, I want to fuck, too. But not any of the women there, in their masks.

I’ve visited Mystique several times, and I’ve made a connection with a woman maybe once or twice. I’m never interested when I get there. There’s mystery, yeah, but there’s nothing I haven’t had before.

Threesomes, women in all shapes and sizes, they’re shit from my past. From when I was young and dumb. Joey’s still in that phase, even though we’re the same age. Fine, I’m a minute older.

“Fuck,” I grunt and drop the envelope on my bedside table.

I shouldn’t be conflicted about this. It’s not a difficult decision.

My problem, my big fucking problem, is the woman who’s down the hall this very minute, packing her bags to leave my house for the weekend.

I don’t want her to go.

I want to drag her into my fucking bedroom and eat her out until she screams my name. I’m craving her. I have been since she arrived in this fucking house.

Hiring her was my mistake.

She’s become a constant, and I love that. I love seeing her in the kitchen in her tight jeans, her ass up in the air, tempting me to touch.

A noise echoes from two doors over. Her room. I get up again and walk toward the exit to my master bedroom. My big, empty master bedroom.

I crack my door open, a frown wrinkling my brow.

“Oh, god.” It’s a moan. From her lips.

My cock twitches. This is too much for me to handle.

I can’t fuck my nanny. I can’t mess around under this roof. I can’t jeopardize Jessie’s state of mind.

But she’s not here this weekend. And Danielle is. Danielle, who smells like soft, sweet vanilla and spice. She’s what you want. Take her. Fuck her.

“No,” I grunt to myself and click the door closed.

But the sound of that tight, hot moan tells me everything I need to know.

Danielle isn’t packing down the hall—she’s caught in a private moment. Likely, she thinks I’m still in the kitchen and doesn’t want me to hear. She ran out of there fast enough once she realized how much I wanted her.

I won’t bend to this. I’m not a fucking animal.

I can’t fuck her.

Any other woman would’ve been bent over a desk by now, but not her. Not Danielle.

I walk to my bed again and slide open the top drawer. I draw out the bottle of lube from inside. I’ve run out of it this month and replaced it twice. Danielle’s presence has me jerking off every day, at least once.

It’s the only way I maintain my sanity around her.

Another moan leaks in from underneath my door, and I’ve effectively lost it.

I unzip my jeans and tug them down, bring out my dick. It’s bigger than most women see in their lives. I know because I’ve been told. I’ve witnessed the gasps and the licked lips, the excitement.

Danielle will love it.

I let myself fantasize about that.

I grab the lube and pop the cap, squeeze some into my palm, then smooth it over my dick, focusing on the tip.

“Fuck,” I growl and buck my hips.

It’s too good. This will be another one of those orgasms.

Any time I fantasize about the nanny, I come so hard my toes curl. It’s not just her tight little ass, those perky tits, or the long dark hair that falls past her shoulders. It’s not those pouty blow job lips, or the sparkling hazel eyes, flecked green.

It’s her manner. Her care.

I want her to nurture me. Nurture my dick, god damn.

My dirty thoughts lead me. I walk to the door and lean against the wall next to it, listening hard.

Another moan, this one breathier than the last.

I stroke my dick, up and down, shut my eyes, and picture her naked on her bed.

The sheets in her room are pristine white, and she lies back on them, now, I fucking see it.

Danielle’s hand is thrown up over her head, fingers caught in the sheets, her other hand working her pussy. She slides two fingers inside and rams them in and out, moaning, writhing, her feet planted on the bed.

She’s wide open, on display, her pussy lips dripping for me. She messes up the sheets with those juices.

Fuck, I’ll lick them up. I’ll drink her, devour her.

A real moan interjects into my fantasy and drives me on. Higher. Fuck, I’ll come at this rate.

I open my eyes and stare at the door, lift one hand and drag my shirt up and over my shoulders. I let go of my dick, get the shirt off, and hold it ready at my side, then start stroking again.

Danielle groans down the hall. “Oh, fuck, Holden.”

I freeze, hand on my head, my balls tightening up. She said my name.

Fuck it, she does want me. Not that it’s any great surprise. I’m rich, I’m hot, I’m out of her league as her boss. It’s naughty, and Danielle’s a naughty girl.

My naughty girl.

Not yet. Not ever.

This doesn’t change anything.

She wants me, and I want her, and that makes it even more important we don’t touch. Ever.

Except in my fucking mind.

I shut my eyes again and work my cock, throbbing for her, pre-cum dripping from the tip.

Once again, she’s laid bare before me.

Her legs spread wide, now her hand cups her breasts, pinches her nipple as she cries out, softly. She flicks her clit, then circles it, taps it. She uses both hands now, fingering herself with one and playing with that sweet, pink pearl with the other.

Danielle curls around herself, moaning, her perfect lips parted. She’s trapped in a moment of bliss. “Holden,” she moans. “Holden, god, you’re so fucking big.”

The beginning of my orgasm tickles in my balls.

Christ, she’s said that out loud.

I open my eyes and let reality slam home. She’s saying these things in my house, under my roof. She’s moaning for me two rooms away.

“Holden,” she keens again. “So fucking big.”

I can’t hold on much longer, the wet squelch of the lube perfectly emulates what her pussy would sound like with me inside her, filling her to the brim.

“I’m coming, baby,” she calls out. “Holden, I’m coming for you.”

I clench my teeth and ram through my orgasm, blocking the tip of my dick with my shirt. I squirt five times, and then another, and another. Christ, it doesn’t end for an age. It’s the hardest I’ve ever come, and I wish every drop had been inside her.

I exhale and rest my head against the jamb.

Silence in the house. No more moans or begging.

This is it. It’s the final straw.

I can’t fire her for this. I can’t blame her for having urges when I have them myself. She has a future ahead of her. She’s saving to become a pilot, and I won’t wreck her dream.

I’ll go to Mystique Island instead.

One weekend of sex with a masked woman will erase my fantasies about her.

Is has to.