“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked, as I was trying to tie my hair in a ponytail.
The same blonde strand kept rebelling and I never knew what to do about it. It was becoming really annoying. I pulled my scrunchie off, again, and started over, feeling the anger rising in my gut. A sudden wave of calmness washed over me, as he put his hand around my waist and nuzzled in the curve of my shoulder.
“Bad hair day, baby?”
I felt butterflies swirling in my core from the touch of his breath, as the vibration of his low voice resonated through my body. I moaned and turned to face him. My hair was no longer a concern.
“Not important. Baby?” I murmured, looking up at him through hooded eyes.
“Mmhmm…”
I couldn’t hide a big grin, but he squashed it with a kiss.
“So?” he said, ending the dance of our mouths.
He saw the puzzled look in my eyes, so he clarified, “This weekend.”
“Oh. I don’t have anything planned. Why? Do you?” I answered, in a tentative voice.
He smiled and let go of my waist. Bringing a hand up, he slowly caressed my cheek. “It’s not like that. I wish it was, but I have to work.”
“Oh? What do you do, anyway?” I asked, turning around to pick up my shirt. I smiled at the disarray my clothes lay in. It screamed hot sex and I felt good about it. He had called me ‘baby,’ after all. My smile widened, as I put the light fabric on.
“Nothing fancy, really,” he said. I felt like he was avoiding the question. He cleared his throat, then continued. “I’m a bouncer at a club downtown.”
I turned to him, a frown on my face. “And Ginger?” I asked, genuinely concerned.
“That’s why I asked you about your weekend.”
“Yes?” I urged him, though I had a suspicion I wouldn’t like what he was about to say.
He cleared his throat again. “I was thinking of asking you if you could look after her this weekend. I really need to work and there’s the money issue…”
“I understand. You don’t have to explain,” I said, and bent to pick up my pants. I didn’t know what to say. “Want some coffee before you leave?” I asked, trying to make some time to think for myself.
He nodded. He looked like a man who understood my thoughts. I smiled, as I pulled my pants on, and gestured towards the door. In the kitchen, he sat on the barstool and kept quiet.
I busied myself with the French press and thought of what he asked. I liked this man. Ever since he had moved next door, I felt an uncanny attraction to him. He did look like trouble, with his roaring motorcycle and devilish good looks, but I couldn’t help it. Especially seeing how he took care of his little daughter, the deal had been sealed in my heart.
I would’ve done anything for him, especially since I liked little Ginger very much. She was one of my favorite students, clever, always ahead of her class. And I had trouble with exactly this: her being my student. Concerns like what will happen with my job if word got out about me being involved with a parent in my class or what my gossiping neighbors would do if they found out were just a few of the thoughts racing through my mind.
I didn’t look up as I poured us two cups of coffee. I slid his across the table and grabbed mine with both hands. I knew I had to say something, but I didn’t know what. I wanted to help, I really did, but something held me back. And I felt guilty for feeling this way. After all, it was Ginger’s best interest at stake. So I raised my head and looked at Dawson.
He was looking at me, a sheepish expression across his face. I felt my core melting and I blushed. I must look like such a bad person now, I thought, as he began speaking. “If it matters, I can pay.”
My eyes darted to his. “No,” I stated vehemently. “Absolutely not.”
I was about to continue with my reasoning when I saw a mischievous smile creeping on his lips. I stopped. He looked so handsome when he smiled; those dimples on each cheek giving him the manliest look I never thought dimples could.
“It’s fine if you don’t want anything, but I suspected you’d have accepted this without objection. Then again, I don’t like to sound too cocky…”
“What is it?” I asked, smiling in my cup.
“If you had let me finish…” he teased.
“Oh, come on!” I whimpered.
He started laughing, infecting me with cheerfulness. He stood up and came across the kitchen to me. “I was thinking of exchanging weekends looking after Ginger with nights exactly like the one we just had,” he whispered, trailing his breath along my neck.
I felt my pussy clench and I needed him to take me again. But I knew we didn’t have time. I needed to go to school, and he needed to get back to Ginger. A sigh burst out of my chest, prompting him to chuckle.
“Is this an offer you can’t refuse?” he said, caressing my back with his strong hands.
“Mmhmm,” I murmured, sipping some coffee to regain my composure. “Okay. I will help you. I like Ginger lots and I really am looking forward to this weekend. Honestly.”
“Really?”
“Yes. We’ll have a girl’s weekend. Lots of fun, what do you know…”
He laughed again, stirring my butterflies in a frenzy. “Okay, then. Thank you, Mari. Really.”
He bent and kissed me and I reached my hand into his hair, keeping him longer, taking control of his mouth. “I think you’re just cocky enough,” I said, getting up for air.
He smiled that smile again, and I swooned in response. “Do you have to go soon?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips.
“Yes, I should change my shirt. I need to get going,” I replied, checking my wall clock. I learned that, if I wouldn’t hurry up that second, I would be terribly late for work.
“I’ll walk with you. Go, get ready.”
I placed the cup in the sink and hurried to the bedroom.
I heard him say, “We don’t want you fired now, do we? I couldn’t afford to pay you for a full time babysitting job.”
“You’d have to, if it came to that,” I threw back, while struggling to fit my round hips in a pair of jeans. “With you being responsible for me being late and all.”
I heard him laugh before I closed the bathroom door.