by Jess Bentley
Matthew is startled, then defensive.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I intervene immediately. “Matthew, are you going to put them back together?”
Ned glares at him, his lips pressed tightly together. He isn’t crying. Not yet. He’s waiting to see what’s going to happen. That’s a good boy.
Matthew sticks his lower lip out but grabs a couple of blocks. He pushes them back toward the stack stubbornly, not really conceiving that he’s going to rebuild the whole thing entirely.
Okay, I guess playtime is over.
We already ate. We just had playtime. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? Baths? It’s a little early. Maybe go for a walk?
“What would Maddie do? Shit.”
“Shit,” Ned repeats dutifully.
“Nice one,” Jack calls out from the corner of the room.
“Hey, can you watch these guys for a sec?” I ask as I stand, edging away slightly. “I just want to run and check something in the garage.”
“No way, brother,” he chuckles. “It’s your turn. I have some things to catch up on.”
The boys both look up at me as I stand, their expressions uncertain and expectant.
“Well, you got any ideas?” I call out. “I really wasn’t expecting to be full-time dad today. I didn’t have a lot planned…”
“I guess we better get used to it,” Jack shrugs. “It may be a while till we get a nanny again. We can do this. Right? It’s not like we will ruin them for life or anything?”
Ned stands suddenly, then stomps through the middle of the remaining blocks, challenging Matthew with a direct glare. Matthew leans back on his hands again and kicks his heels against the floor, plainly outraged.
“Oof,” Jack calls out. “You better do something about that before you have a riot on your hands.”
Leaning down, I sweep Ned up and take him under one arm like a football, relieved to hear him laugh. But can I really keep this up? Certainly I can’t carry them around like this all day. I do have to come up with something.
Matthew stands up and grabs hold of my opposite leg, plainly demanding that I pick him up too.
“Yes,” he insists, raising his arms over his head. I dip down and grab him around the waist. Now I have both the fellas kicking gleefully on either side of me.
Jack raises his eyebrows and nods, squinting. “Good plan, Chance,” he smirks. “I see you’ve got this handled.”
“You guys want to go for a walk? Bikes?”
“Bikes! Yeah!” Matthew grunts, twisting against my grip until I release him to the floor. He hauls ass toward the garage, churning those chubby little legs like a real trouper.
“Okay, Ned, you too,” I announce as I follow Matthew’s lead. Ned is dead weight under my arm, happy to be hauled around.
Once in the garage, I get the bikes, helmets, and elbow pads. This was all Maddie’s idea. I didn’t think that helmets were good idea. Certainly not elbow pads. But after the first time that Matthew dumped his bike in the yard and skinned the rosy flesh right off his elbow, I definitely got on board. It’s weird how much it hurts when your kid is injured, even a little bit.
The boys are good about letting me strap their helmets on, standing in front of their miniature two-wheelers complete with training wheels. I get them all strapped into the safety gear and the appropriate footwear before Matthew tries climbing on top of his.
Jack comes strolling through the garage door, squinting against the sunlight. He’s got his phone in his hand and a strange smile on his face.
“I’ve got this!” I say defensively. “We can ride bikes until lunchtime, okay? You don’t have to check up on me every fifteen minutes.”
“She’s coming back,” he smiles, half breathless.
“Wait, what?”
My heart begins to race.
He nods quickly. “The driver texted me. No details. But she’s coming back, Chance. Seriously.”
“She’s on her way? Right now?”
“Two hours,” he affirms. “It’s all going to be fine, man.”
I don’t even know what to say. Relief washes through me. I didn’t even realize how concerned I was. But it’s going to be okay. I look at these little guys, this four-man household with a giant piece missing right in the middle, and think he’s probably right.
Chapter 12
Jack
“I really hope you brought some Girl Scout cookies with you or something.”
Chelsea quirks an eyebrow at me and crosses her arms in front of her, tapping the toe of her sneaker against the flagstone.
“Very funny, Jack,” she smirks. “Think you can let me in?”
Not yet, I think. I would like to play with her just a little bit more.
“I’m not so sure,” I shrug. “Those cookies are a serious thing.”
“Jack.”
“And you know what? We already said our goodbyes. I don’t have any extra polite phrases left over.”
“Jack.”
“I mean… Farewell? I guess I didn’t get to use that yet. I say farewell. So…”
“Jack!”
I pause, mid-quip. I could just go on and on, but she actually started to look kind of serious. Her eyebrows gather together in the middle and I can see her lips thinning out as she presses them together.
“All right, all right… Come on in, Chelsea. We wouldn’t want our little sister to be homeless, now would we?”
She makes a little cough of surprise as she passes me and I reach out reflexively, looping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her to my chest so I kiss the top of her head.
“Seriously,” I murmur, “are you okay?”
She nods against me, brushing her forehead over my pecs.
“Yeah… I’m okay,” she sighs.
She leans on me for just another second or two before pushing back and regaining her composure.
“So, about this job,” she starts, breathing through her nose with a serious, expectant tone. “I just want to get a few things straight.”
My eyebrows go up. “Really!” I grin back, unable to stop myself. She’s adorable, she really is.
I hold out an elbow so I can guide her into the great room. Chance is stretched out on the sofa, recovering from his morning session with the boys, who just went down for a nap. When he sees us, he kicks his legs off and stands up straight, grinning stupidly like a golden retriever who just got his best girl back.
I feel sort of the same way, but he seems to have forgotten he’s the one who sent the retriever away. Convenient that he would forget so quickly.
“See? I told you she would be back,” Chance lies, smug in his amnesia.
“You never said any such thing,” I object, but nobody hears me.
Chelsea strides into the room, angling away from both of us with her hands out like she’s deflecting some kind of football maneuver. She wants the stage, and she has it. She could ask for just about anything right now.
“So, this nanny gig…” she begins cautiously.
“I’m really glad you’re back!” Chance beams.
“Let her talk!” I interrupt.
She swallows, hard. “Yes, let me talk, okay? I feel that we should get these things settled right at the beginning.”
“Okay, whatever you say,” he continues. The Golden Retriever is strong in him.
She shifts her weight back and forth. She’s wearing the same clothes she left in: low-slung jeans and pink sneakers. A tight T-shirt with a stretched-out collar that dips deliciously between her tits. But her hair is down now, curling around her shoulders, quivering as she nods to herself, assembling her demands.
“I want Mondays and Tuesdays off,” she announces.
“Done,” I answer immediately.
She holds up a finger. “And I am not a housekeeper, okay? You better have somebody else for that. I’m not to be walking around cleaning up after you guys again, understand?”
“Hildegard will be so relieved,” Chance smiles.
Note to self: hire a housekeeper named Hildegard.
“I want my own room. All right? Near the boys, and with all the baby monitor stuff. But my own space, just for me? My own bathroom. All right?”
“I have just the space,” I agree quickly. “There is a suite of rooms with a private deck and garden and everything. Leads right to the pool, which should be nice for you. Private but accessible, if you know what I mean?”
“Sounds good,” she sniffs.
Silence falls between us. Chance and I glance at each other.
“Salary?” she asks timidly. “I mean… Is that weird?”
“It’s not weird at all,” I reassure her. “We offered you a job. It is a job. Jobs come with salaries. How about seventy thousand a year? Unlimited use of the car and driver. Four weeks vacation. Tuition reimbursement? Anything else?”
She draws in a slow breath, raising her eyebrows so high that two identical wrinkles appear at the very outer edges of her forehead.
“Um, health insurance?” she asks sarcastically.
“Well, of course,” Chance answers.
She slumps back, dropping her bottom on the arm of the sofa and perching there as she shakes her head.
“Anything else?” I ask, smirking.
Slowly shaking her head, she raises her hands for a second and then lets them fall to slap against her thighs. I like that sound.
“You’re making this way too easy,” she chuckles, as though she can’t believe it. “Is it supposed to be this easy?”
I shrug. “Why not? Why make something difficult if it doesn’t have to be?”
Her eyes flicker back and forth between us as she weighs something else, something heavier in her mind. As she breathes, I watch her nipples trace ovals under her T-shirt, and I am suddenly thirsty.
“And what about… the rest of it?” she says in a small voice.
Chance leans forward eagerly, holding himself back. He would also like to know the answer to that question, but he is controlling himself for the moment.
“That’s totally up to you,” I say, as gamely as possible.
I want her to be comfortable, but if she puts the brakes on this right now, Chance and I are going to have to have a strategy meeting like immediately. I really don’t think that we could have this piece of ass traipsing around the house and keep our sanity if we don’t work something out.
But she has always been sort of demure. Sort of shy. She’s a sweet girl. She’s a good girl. It was probably her sweetness and innocence that made sure that Chance and I kept our heads when we were teenagers. We wouldn’t want to do anything to bruise this tiny flower of a girl. They can be very delicate, you know. It takes a tender grip.
“I feel like we should just go for it,” she announces.
The words hang in the air.
“Excuse me?” I choke out.
She nods emphatically, her hair floating around her cheeks in sweet, tuggable waves.
“Yeah… Do you think? There is no way in hell that we are going to be able to manage this and pretend that yesterday didn’t happen. It’s going to be insane. I say we just deal with it like adults.”
“Like adults,” I repeat, turning the words around in my mouth.
“Tell me exactly what you mean,” Chance says, approaching her cautiously. I could tell by the sly look in his eyes that he is more than intrigued. If she says the word go, he is ready to pounce.
But we are gentlemen, after all. More or less. Sometimes. Sort of.
She knuckles her hips, nudging her faded denim jeans over her hipbone slightly. I can’t help but stare at that exposure, the sweet, pink stripe of nakedness. It’s like a stripe of candy.
Blinking slowly, she looks at me, then swivels her head to look at Chance, apparently somewhat taken aback by our reticence.
“Jesus, I didn’t think you guys were going to make this so hard,” she sighs under her breath.
As I watch, she takes the hem of her pale blue T-shirt and begins pulling it up, revealing her rib cage, the arch of her back, until she’s taken the shirt off and her hair is free, bouncing back into place as she smiles invitingly.
Her nipples are deep reddish pink, puckering temptingly. Ridged and begging for attention.
“Are you starting to get the picture?”
“I know I am,” Chance growls, covering the great room in just a few strides. He drops to his knees right in front of her, landing with his hands on her hips. I watch his fingers dig divots into her buttocks as he buries his nose in the sweet, blushing swell of her belly just above the waistband of her jeans.
She reaches out toward me, crooking a finger in my direction, beckoning me toward her.
“Don’t just stand there,” she chides, gasping as Chance tickles the sensitive parts of her skin.
“Chance,” I growl, “get her on the sofa.”
Without a word, he rises, sweeping her under the knees in one fluid movement. He carries our prize to the middle of the great room, depositing her on the deep, plush sofa. As she lies back, her full breasts jiggle and settle nearer her arms, the outer curves enticing me.
Chance catches my eye for approval, signaling that he’d like us on either side of her. I instantly agree. That’s exactly what I want too, and we nudge her toward the back of the sofa, propping up her hair so that she can watch us both as we prepare to inspect her more closely.
Chance settles back slightly and darts his eyes toward the button of her blue jeans, silently inviting me to undress her further. I almost don’t want to. I want to leave more of her to unwrap later, but I don’t think that will be enough. At the very least, I need to see her. Though I believe that good things are worth waiting for, I need very much to see her.
She shutters and wriggles as I thumb open the button closure, and I note the way that her belly jiggles as she chuckles softly. Twisting, she maneuvers her hips so that the fabric slides over the tops of her thighs, revealing the shiny blue silk of her girlishly demure panties.
It takes all of my control to keep from ravishing her now. I want to expose all of her, to consume all of her. But I don’t want to shut Chance out. I want this moment to be shared equally, to set the precedent and expectation.
And also to test her. Is she really ready for this? She seemed to be ready yesterday, but it is quite a lot.
When she is free of her jeans, she arches her back, flexing her toes as she bends her knees up.
“Now you,” she suggests, jerking her chin toward Chance’s trousers.
“Not today, pet,” he informs her. “Today is just for you.”
Her eyes widen and she glances at me for affirmation.
“We need to get you ready,” I confirm, running my palm along the inside of her calf, up over the ridges of her knee. “By the time we get inside you, you need to be extremely ready. Know what I mean?”
She bites her lower lip, shuddering as Chance begins softly pinching the skin at her waist, teasing her.
“Oh… I think I’m ready,” she sighs. “I think I’ve been ready for this for years.”
“Don’t rush, Chelsea,” Chance coaches her as he leans down to swirl his tongue around her navel. “It will be worth it.”
“Just relax,” I murmur as I stroke the inside of her thigh, gradually pushing her knees apart.
She’s tense, I can tell, but after a few moments I feel her convincing herself to relax. She uncurls her toes while I stroke her calves, gradually allowing me to wander closer and closer to those bright blue panties. Sky blue. Cotton-candy blue. Where the sweetness is.
Chance focuses on her upper half, licking across the width of her waist, fingers trailing over the ridges of her ribs, teasing her with every pass. Her breath quickens as he lightly nips the underside of her breast and I’m a little jealous, wishing I could be important places at once.
But I have all this in front of me. Open thighs. The ridge of that secret tendon on the very top of her thighs, the one that joins her legs to her pelvis. So tempting, like a stri
ng in a piano. I want to have my mouth on it.
Slowly I position myself between her knees, hooking her legs over my shoulders as I angle downward. She shudders but doesn’t tighten up.
Her panties are taut across her pussy, creased in the middle to give the impression of the outline of her lips, the topographical map of her inner folds. Teasing, I drag my fingernails across the fabric, delighting in the sound of the friction as well as the trembling response she gives me.
Chance glances down at me from his position between her breasts, his lips gleaming with saliva. I can see her head is thrown back, and she has a handful of pillow in each fist.
He jerks his eyebrows up once, signaling that we should escalate, synchronize our attack.
I watch her carefully, timing myself when he takes that candy-shaped nipple in his lips, and at that exact moment, I run my nose across her panties, bottom to top.
Her scent fills my nostrils, triggering a flood of lust. It’s like I can imagine her pussy spread out in front of me, inviting, warm as her mouth.
Half-starved, I begin eating her pussy from outside her panties, mouthing the lips with my tongue and teeth, humming so she can feel the vibration through the fabric. She tries to pull away but I hold onto her thighs, clamping them around my ears.
Chance has her in his arms, practically lifting her off the sofa as he sucks her tits, pulling them up and then letting them pop out of his mouth with a slurp. Chelsea moans and rocks against us, matching her rhythm to ours, somehow egging us on and submitting at the same time.
She has soaked through the panties, so I finally just rip them off her and feast my eyes on the beautiful flower spread out in front of me. Plump lips with downy, dark hair that’s shaved into a triangle. The frilled layers of her inner sex unfolding like flower petals. Bubblegum pink and glistening, throbbing as they swell.
As I watch, her hole winks open, and the muscles release a stream of juice that trickles between her cheeks toward her asshole.
I don’t want to let that go to waste, so I dive down, catching the droplets on the tip of my tongue as I slurp them back up. She’s delicious and fragrant, as delicate as a peony, as sweet as a dirty martini.
