CHAPTER THREE
SPENCER
The girls were tucked away in their new beds, snoring away peacefully. Most everything in the house had already been put away, except for the rest of the things we were waiting for from New York City – our personal belongings mostly.
The dollhouse that had been in the girl's room should be arriving fairly quickly, along with other mementos that could never be replaced. Reminders of and keepsakes from my Bree, the woman of my dreams.
I was settling down for a glass of red wine in the living room when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I assumed it was one of the girls, who not being in their normal room, and not used to having anyone else living with me, might be a little bit scared. But, when I stepped into the hallway, I came face-to-face into Avery. Startled, I jumped a bit and my arm jerked, dumping red wine all over her shirt.
“Oh God, I'm sorry,” I muttered.
I knew better than to try and wipe off the wine – but part of me almost had done so out of pure reflex. Part of me wanted to reach out and touch her, but that part of me was too tipsy to be thinking straight.
“It's alright,” she said.
She laughed, and the sound was rich and beautiful. It took me by surprise how cheerful and sing-songy it was, and it made me smile wide. She was pleasant and cheerful. And her giggle was infectious.
“I thought you were one of the girls,” I stammered, rushing toward the kitchen to grab a towel,. Avery following behind me. “I'm not used to living with another adult. It's been too long.”
“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have – I don't know – been so quiet?” she shook her head.
I handed her a towel from underneath the sink and she wiped at the spill on her shirt, which sunk deep into the light blue fabric, staining it as red as the carpet in the foyer.
“Let's stop apologizing,” I said. “I'll buy you a new shirt.”
“This old thing?” she chuckled, leaning against the counter. “It's alright. It's a pajama top. I have plenty. Don't even worry about it. Seriously.”
“I'd feel bad if I didn't repay you, in some way, for my clumsiness,” I said.
“Fine. I'll take a glass of whatever you're having, and we can consider that payment enough,” she said.
“Sounds like a fair trade, I guess,” I laughed.
I reached for the bottle of wine I'd opened earlier and refilled my glass as well as poured her one. I handed it off to her, and like a true expert, she sniffed it first.
“Wow, I don't think I've ever had wine this old before,” she said, her eyes wide with surprise and a smile touching her lips.
“It was a gift from the realtor who sold me this place,” I said.
“Ahh, I bet they got one hell of a commission, didn't they? I guess it's the least they could do,” she said.
Her eyes took in the kitchen as she pushed herself away from the counter. She walked around, her hand stroking the granite countertops. Her fingers danced along the smooth surface, and for some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She turned, abruptly, and stared directly at me. Her blue eyes were magnetic, and I couldn't pull my gaze away no matter how hard I tried.
God, she was beautiful. Even standing there in a stained shirt with her tousled red hair spilling all around her shoulders, she was a sight too beautiful for words. Her youthful, sweet face and the freckles that lightly dusted her nose and cheeks made her the epitome of girl next door beauty. She was somehow both innocent and sultry.
She took a slow sip from her glass, never breaking eye contact with me. Neither one of us spoke, not at first. The silence wasn't strained or awkward though. If I had to come up with one word for it, it would have been companionable. Finally though, she broke the silence once her glass was empty.
“This really was the best wine I'd ever had,” she said.
“Just wait until I introduce you to some of my own collection,” I said with a playful wink.
“I can't wait,” she said.
Her lips curled up in a seductive smile and her tone was a little flirty, but as soon as we both realized it, she dropped her eyes to the floor.
“Anyway, I should probably get to bed,” she said, clearing her throat.
“Sure you wouldn't want another glass?”
“My shirt isn't that expensive,” she teased.
“Well, consider it a bonus for a job well done today with the girls,” I said.
I reached out and plucked the wine glass from her hands, and before she could protest, I filled it once more. She started to say something, but her words dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Sure, okay. I guess one more wouldn't hurt,” she said. “But, if I'm hungover tomorrow at work, you get to explain things to my boss.”
“Sure thing,” I said. “I happen to know him pretty well.”
I took a long sip from my glass and stared at her over the rim. It had been so long since anyone had caused my body to react the way it was reacting to her. My groin ached with a burning need as my erection pressed hard against my slacks. I prayed she wouldn't be able to see the hard-on I was sporting for her, but it was hard not to. All she had to do was look down, and – yep, just as I thought it, Avery's eyes moved down to my crotch.
Her perfectly plump mouth opened and then closed, her eyes grew wide. She put the wine glass on the counter and muttered something. She looked up at me, giving me an awkward smile.
“I really do think I should probably go to bed now,” she said.
She stepped around the counter, and for the first time, I noticed the shorts she was wearing. Blue bottoms that matched the wine stained top. Nothing spectacular about them except that they were super short and rode high up onto her thighs. That didn't help my dirty mind or painfully swollen cock at all.
She was right. She should go upstairs and go to bed. She was the nanny. I was her boss. That was the end of it, and I shouldn't be having such impure thoughts about her. Still, I couldn’t seem to help myself.
As she walked toward the door, I grabbed her arm. I'm not sure why, I just seemed to be acting on instinct. She stopped and looked at me, but she didn't try to pull away. “You don't have to go to bed,” I said, my voice soft.
“I really probably should,” she said, biting her lip as her breathing grew heavier. I went to pull my hand away, but instead, pulled her closer to me. She didn't resist. She came willingly. Her lips parted, and her tongue darted out, licking them as if preparing them for a kiss we both knew was coming, even if we'd never admit it to ourselves.
I leaned forward, brushing my lips against hers. She gasped, her body tensed for a second, causing me to pull back, afraid I'd gone too far. Avery's free hand, however, reached out and held my chin, pulling my face back closer to her. She kissed me long and hard, her tongue now darting into my mouth, our kiss growing in intensity and passion.
She let her hand fall from my face and slid it along my collarbone and then down to my chest. I shuddered against her, my cock pulsing, aching to be freed from the confines of my slacks. Her breasts pressed into me, her nipples hard and begging to be touched. I allowed my hands to stroke her breasts, circling her stiff nipple with my thumb. She whimpered against me as I continued playing with the tight nub through her wine-stained shirt.
“Yes,” she whimpered. “That feels so good.”
Her voice was soft, but also carried a note of surprise to it. I wanted to keep touching her, and I did, allowing my hands to completely envelop her breasts, my palms kneading at her sensitive nipples. Her mouth pulled away from mine, but she didn't separate from my touch. Our foreheads pressed together, her eyes closed, as my hands explored her exquisite figure.
I yearned to move lower, to feel the wetness of her panties soaking through her shorts. I let my fingers travel down her curves until I reached her inner thighs. I slipped a hand up her shorts, and her eyes popped open. She bit her lower lip as she stared into my eyes.
God, I wanted her. I wanted to bend her over the counter and fuck her right there, on the countertop in the kitchen. Break in the new place, so to speak. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted more in the world than to be inside of Avery.
Her beautiful blue eyes were begging me to continue, but she put her hands on my chest and used it as leverage to push herself away from me. The message was clear – although our bodies might ache for it, there was a line in the sand we shouldn't cross.
“Damn. I'm sorry, Avery,” I said softly. “That was wrong of me.”
She stepped back, her cheeks flushed redder than I'd ever seen them before.
“ I've clearly had too much to drink,” I said, pouring the rest of my wine down the sink. “I shouldn't have come on to you like that.”
“I understand, Spencer. We should just pretend this didn't happen and never talk about it again.”
“Good. I'd appreciate that,” I said, standing up tall and taking a deep breath. “I think we should both go to bed now. Tomorrow, we start early with the French lessons.”
“Got it,” she said meekly.
She didn't look up at me as she hurried from the kitchen, leaving me alone once more with nothing but an empty glass of wine, a throbbing cock, and memories of what could have been.