Chapter 6

Abbie woke up alone and sore in Malcolm's bed. Venetian blinds sliced the sun coming through the windows. She eased out of bed as best she could and grabbed a shower in Malcolm's posh open bathroom before she headed downstairs.

She didn't bother to go down to the sunken living room when she spotted Trina in the same place on the couch. She made herself a good breakfast, but too many questions bothered her to work on her book.

She studied the pictures covering the walls. Every one of them showed Trina as a little girl. Not one marked her transition into adolescence. In her circuit around the condo, Abbie found a single key lying in the foyer dish. A scribble note next to it read, Storage key. Help yourself.

That gave her an idea. Without going back to the living room, she punched the elevator button and rode downstairs. She found everything exactly the way she and Malcolm left it. She hunted through the boxes, but didn't find anything different than what Malcolm already showed her. Half the boxes contained old notebooks packed cover to cover with Trina's elaborate drawings. Vibrant colors popped out of every page, in crayon, colored pencil, and pen.

Abbie selected a box at random and lugged it upstairs. She set it on the counter and started studying the pages. There must be something in here she could find to unlock Trina's mystery problem. Hours passed. Trina never looked up long enough to notice what Abbie was doing.

Abbie made lunch and left Trina's sandwich on the plate as usual. Malcolm didn't come home for lunch. He never called or anything. Did he regret last night? Was he planning to let Abbie go this morning, now that he had his way with her?

He had his way with her, all right. He had her every which way, all night long. Just when she thought he couldn't get hard again, he rolled her the other way and worked her back to a fevered pitch with his fingers, tongue, and body.

Just thinking about him leaning her hands on the bed and bumping into her from behind gave her butterflies. When would she ever find a man like him again? He never did anything until he made her cum all over herself in screaming delight. Then he took her in the dizzy afterglow of her own orgasm to make her cum again and again. He kept her pussy wet and responsive, and he made her look him in the eye, even when she had to turn around to see him. He never left her in any doubt he was the one who took her there.

She found herself gazing out the window and reliving the night, one position at a time. She even imagined new ones and what she would do and experience if she ever found her way back to that bedroom.

He picked her up in his arms and carried her off to his cave den. He stuck her full of his rock-hard meat until she collapsed in endless pleasure in his arms. His concoction filled her to the brim and foamed from her mouth and cunt and ass to bathe her clean.

She pushed a golden curl out of her face with a dreamy sigh. What a man he was! He was a stud, a master. He owned her, body and soul. He could make her beg and crawl and lick his feet with a crook of his little finger.

She turned back to Trina's notebook. She studied the progression of Trina's artistic development from one year to the next. Every notebook showed some new thought entering her head for the first time to become a shape or a theme winding its way through the whole notebook.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a hand slammed down on the page in front of her. Abbie started out of her reverie to see Trina glaring at her. “What do you think you're doing?”

Abbie floundered out of her confusion. “Your dad said I could look at your old notebooks. He said you don't draw anymore.”

Trina yanked the notebook out of her hands. “You have no right to look at these. Don't let me see you looking at these again. Stay away from me and get out of my life.” She tucked the notebook under her arm, grabbed the plate with her sandwich, and retreated to her room.

Trina didn't come out again for the rest of the day. She didn't notice the box with twenty other notebooks sitting on the floor at Abbie's feet. Abbie sighed. Well, she'd gone and blown it for real this time. Trina would never let her in now. She might never come out of her room for the next six months. Then Malcolm would have no reason to keep Abbie in the condo. He would send her back to Personnel Solutions and get himself a high-priced escort when he wanted someone to mess around with.

She dragged the box back to her room and got another one from the storage level. She stayed in her room for the afternoon. Trina wouldn't see her looking at them there, but when she took out another notebook, Abbie hesitated to look at it at all. She didn’t see anything in this notebook she hadn't already seen in dozens of others.

She tossed the notebook back in the box. She was about to throw herself down on the bed when some writing caught her eye on the back cover. It surprised her. Why? In clear, flowing cursive read the words, Trina, 6th Grade.

No sixth grader ever wrote that neatly. Some adult must have written it. Abbie checked the other notebooks. Each one bore Trina's name and the age at which she drew the pictures, going all the way back to second grade. On every one, the same neat handwriting stood out clear and clean.

Why did that writing startle Abbie so much? Trina's mother must have written it, so what was the big deal? She snatched a notebook out of the box and flipped the pages faster than ever. When she got to the last page, she threw it away and grabbed another. The more pages she turned, the faster she worked. Her heart raced. This must be it.

Page after page showed Trina's artwork. Pictures, patterns, color combinations—everything, but no writing. No writing anywhere, right up to seventh grade.

Abbie packed up the notebooks and carried them back to the storage area, but her mind wouldn't keep still. This must be the answer. It couldn't be anything else.

The elevator took longer to come back this time. Abbie started to get worried when the door hissed open. She tossed the key in her hand while she waited for the car to take her back upstairs. She couldn't wait to tell Malcolm what she found.

The door slid open and she heard Malcolm's voice somewhere in the condo. The sound thrilled her guts all over again. All of a sudden, she halted in mid-step. Maybe she shouldn't tell Malcolm anything until she had a chance to talk to Trina herself. Trina hid this secret all these long, hard months. Maybe she wouldn't appreciate Abbie blabbing it to her father right away.

She smiled at him when she walked into the kitchen. Then she frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I'm making dinner. You cooked yesterday, so I came home early to take my turn.”

Abbie stared at him whizzing around the kitchen. He pulled this and that out of the fridge and worked over the stove like a master chef. “You didn't have to do that. I would have cooked. I've been home alone all day with nothing to do while you've been out there conquering the world.”

He grabbed her around the waist and gave her a quick kiss. “I want to, and if I'm going to conquer something, it's going to be you. Now get a bottle of wine out of the cupboard and pour. I'm parched.”

Abbie poured two glasses of wine and handed him his. “You're awfully happy. You must have had a good day.”

“I'm happy because of last night. I couldn't stop thinking about you all day.”

She sipped her wine. “I thought about you, too.”

“I can't wait to do it all again tonight.”

Abbie cringed. “Listen, Malcolm, I don't think we should do it again tonight.”

He froze with his tongs suspended over his frying pan. “Why not? I guess I should have expected this. I'm too old for you. You need someone younger.”

“It's not that. I had a great time last night, and I would like nothing better than to do it again and again, every night, if I thought I could keep up with you. It's just that I'm working here. I'm supposed to be Trina's nanny. Besides, if we did it again tonight like we did last night, I don't think I would be able to walk tomorrow morning.”

He flashed her a wicked smile. “Then you'd just have to stay in bed. I could come home at lunchtime and kiss your sore places.”

Abbie squirmed on her stool. “I'm sure you would. I'm sure you would make me all squishy and hot all over again, and that would only lead to more of the same thing.”

He came around the counter and took the glass out of her hand. “You bet it would, baby. I can't get enough of you.” He pushed between her knees and lapped up her kisses with his languid lips.

Abbie seethed up into his arms and pressed her breasts against his chest. “You know you drive me crazy. You know you're ten times the man as anyone half your age.”

He shoved his swelling hard-on into her spongy crotch. “If I can be enough of a man for you, that's all I want.”

“I mean it, Malcolm. I don't think we should do it again tonight. It's not good for the job.”

He pulled back. “Maybe you think we shouldn't do it again ever.”

“Actually, we probably shouldn't. It's not that I don't want to. It's just I'm still your employee. You're my boss, and here we are, having dinner together and drinking wine.”

He went back to his work. “I don't care who or what we are. I want you, and I'll take any of you I can get. If you're too sore to do it with me tonight, I'll just have to wait until you're fully rested. Just so you understand, though, I will never give up on trying to do it with you again. I'll never give up on getting you into my bed for good.”

Abbie stared at him. “What do you mean, for good?”

He set his hand on his hip. “Look, darling. I won't lie to you. I'm over the moon for you. I can't get enough of you. I'll never keep my hands off you unless you tell me not to. If I can get you in my bed or in my life, I'll do it. I don't care what it takes. I have to have you. I've lived without you too long. I'm gonna make you mine, and that's all there is to it.”

She smacked her lips. “Cut it out, Malcolm. I'm a nanny. I'm not cut out to be your....what do you call it?”

He raised his eyebrows. “My what?”

“I don't know. Your girlfriend or whatever you're talking about.”

“I'm talking about the whole nine yards, baby. I'm talking about the gold ring and living happily ever after.”

Abbie gasped. “You're crazy.”

“Crazy about you. I'm going crazy thinking I might never have another night like last night. I want you. I want all of you. I want the rest of your life. I want your sweet sighs and your legs around my neck and having dinner with you every night. I want it all.”

Abbie stood up. “I think you better find someone a little better suited to you than I am. You're a billionaire. I'm your servant.”

He fixed her with his glinting eyes. “Then I'll make you my servant. I'll make you bow and call me sir. I'll tie you to the bedpost and take you whenever I want.”

Her eyes widened. “You wouldn't dare!”

“I would dare that and a lot more. Don't tempt me.”

She sank back into her seat. “You're the devil incarnate.”

“I'm the devil, and I'll make you my slave to sin. Now eat your dinner and don't argue with me, or I'll give you the spanking of your life when we get back upstairs.”

Abbie's blood rushed to her cheeks. She couldn't figure out if he was serious or not. He wouldn't really tie her up and spank her, would he? He wouldn't really leave her panting and moist and come back for her on his lunch break to lick her to screaming passion all over again. Would he?

Oh, yes, he would. She could tell by the look in his eye. He was capable of the most wicked sins, and he would make her cum all over his face and gush her cream all over his cock while he did it. He commanded her body, and he knew it.

He dished the meal onto the plates and set Abbie's in front of her. The fragrant steam wafted into her nostrils and made her senses spin. Then she spotted him putting Trina's plate aside, and she remembered.

“I'll go tell Trina dinner's ready.”

“Don't bother. She'll come out later and get it.”

“That's okay. She's been in her room all day, and I have something else to say to her, anyway.”

Abbie walked down to the living room and tapped on Trina's door. She received no answer. Trina must have her headphones in again. Abbie could knock all day, and Trina wouldn't hear. She tapped again and turned the knob.

Trina sat on her bed with her back to the door. Her phone lay on the bed at her side with the earphone wires angled into Trina's head. Abbie walked around the bed to get in front of her when her eye fell on the bed.

A spiral bound notebook rested on the coverlet in front of Trina. A zippered case full of colored pens and pencils sat open to one side. Trina moved a red pencil back and forth over the page to fill it with brilliant color.

In an instant, Abbie recognized Trina's signature style, but developed the next level higher than the art she saw in Trina's old notebooks. In a flash, she understood. Trina never gave up art. She merely kept it hidden from everybody so no one would see what she was doing.

Abbie stared down at the hands moving over the page. She was so stunned, she didn't react fast enough when Trina whipped around to confront her. Trina yanked the earphones out of her ears and shrieked. “What are you doing in here? I told you to stay away from me. How dare you barge into my room without knocking.”

Abbie opened her mouth. The most pathetic mumblings came out. “Trina! You're drawing!”

Trina scooped up the notebook in one hand and hurled it across the room. It slammed into the wall and crumpled to the floor. Trina jumped off the bed. Her voice echoed out the door into the living room. “Get out of here! Get out and leave me alone! I hate you! Don't you ever come near me again! You bitch! You tramp! You witch! I'll kill you if I ever see you again.”

Abbie beat it out of that room as fast as she could, and Trina slammed the door in her face.