Seduced

by Liv Bennett

  “Yeah. That was really nice. She invites us over for Thanksgiving dinner every year. They’re very generous, both with their money and their care. Their kids are just as nice as them, not like the other spoiled kids of Beverly Hills. The other day I saw a neighbor’s kid throwing rocks at the yardman. His father punished him only because one of the rocks hit his Bentley. That’d never happen in the Carter residence.”

  “You’re right, they’re both wonderful kids. If only, Mrs. Carter wasn’t so depressed. Has she always been that way?” I know I’m stabbing her behind her back by digging for information, but she’s my boss and a grand mystery to me. The more I know about her, the better I can prepare myself if she’s actually playing me.

  “No. She used to be more optimistic and happier, but since her father’s death last year in a traffic accident—”

  The sound of a clearing of the throat makes us both stand and turn toward the foyer.

  “Mr. Carter.” Scott quickly grabs the dossier and walks toward Kenneth. “Here’s the document you requested.”

  “Thank you, Scott. Would you please be here at seven in the morning?” Kenneth opens the dossier and scans the document in it with a deep frown. He’s still in the same dress pants and shirt he’s been wearing all day, but the top two buttons of his shirt are now undone, and I get a glimpse of his dark, smooth skin under the bright florescent light of the kitchen.

  “Yes, sir. Have a good night.” Scott cranes his head and gives me a quick nod before heading for the front door.

  I remain motionless on my feet, my hand clutching my teacup as if it’ll provide me with the strength to endure the torture of shame and lust I get whenever Kenneth is around.

  His eyes still on the document, he spins on his heels and starts walking toward the stairs. “Lisa?” He stops suddenly and turns to me, his stare at me so intense I’d be crushed by it if I let myself go for so much as a second.

  “Yes, sir?”

  His eyes travel down my dress, his eyebrows knitting closer together as his study of me continues. “Make sure to wear more appropriate clothes around my kids.”

  “Ahh… Ummm.” Come on! Speak! Say something. Your wife bought me those clothes? I might lose the few days I have if I don’t wear them? Defend yourself rather than stuttering. “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as my words are out, he hurries up the stairs, and I allow my tensed muscles to relax.

  Make sure to wear more appropriate clothes around my kids. Does that mean I can wear inappropriate clothes when they aren’t around? Perhaps he indeed doesn’t mind me flirting with him as long as his kids aren’t exposed to my sluttiness.

  CH 5

  ~

  Although I retire to my bedroom around eleven, troubling thoughts about the next six days and my life afterward keep me from falling asleep until early in the morning. Just when I’m pulled into a deep, comforting sleep, my phone beeps with an incoming message.

  My eyes open, and I glance at the curtain-covered windows to gauge the time. The Sun must have risen only a few minutes ago since orangy-red is the prominent color behind the light-blue curtains.

  My hand feels heavy as I grab my phone and I rub my eyes to read the letters on the screen. Seeing Loraine’s name jolts me up into a sitting position.

  “He’s up and working out in the gym. Put on the blue nighty without underwear and go to the backyard this instant. This might be the only chance you will get to show him your lady parts. It’s no time to be shy. Show him what you’ve got!”

  She’s so audacious. Has my brain shut off due to not getting enough sleep or has she really just asked me to flash her husband my vagina? The second one, obviously. I should stop dismissing the notion that she can’t possibly want me to have sex with her husband. She’ll pay me two-hundred grand for it.

  Hopping out of bed, I take a quick shower and slip on the only blue nightgown I find in my closet. It’s made of cotton and has an innocent and girly style to it, except for its super short hem that hardly covers my buttocks. A brief breeze should do the job…that is, if I’m lucky.

  With my hair still wet, I hurry to the kitchen and get myself a cup of coffee. Even if I’m expected to only show some skin, I’d rather do it with my brain function intact. Sipping my coffee, I walk out to the backyard through the living-room door, working hard to look casual in my super fancy gown and with my coffee.

  The backyard is large enough to host a playground area, a medium-sized swimming pool and two raised garden beds. There’s a fence around the pool, to protect the kids from falling into it.

  Blood rushes to my cheeks when I feel my back itching exactly at the spot where the gown must have a price tag. Have I seriously forgotten to rip off the tag? Luck isn’t on my side today, because it’s extremely chilly outside with no sign of wind.

  A cold shiver courses through my body and I wrap my fingers around the coffee cup and drink a large sip of the warm liquid, hoping it’ll warm me up.

  It doesn’t.

  I shiver and some of the coffee spills. Cautiously, my eyes scan the large backyard in search of Kenneth and spot a door open on the west side of the house, near the pool. If it’s the entrance to his gym, I should walk in that direction nonchalantly. I almost trip in my flip-flops while walking and more coffee spills. Shaking my head at my ridiculous clumsiness, I carry on to accomplish my hopeless mission.

  The pool looks inviting, despite the low temperature outside, and I meticulously keep my gaze on it to appear as if I’m only interested in exploring the surroundings in case I bump into Kenneth. My heart jumps to my throat when I hear sounds coming from the direction of the door. It must be him, working out in the gym.

  My lips part to allow a deep breath of air to calm my nerves. He’s there and I’m so close to him. No kids or other people around to distract us. I can do it. Just find a way to show him what I’ve got.

  Strangely enough, the vivid image of me pulling up the hem of my nighty in front of Kenneth sets off internal flames that warm my body, and the cold stops bothering me. There are lounge chairs by the pool, and one of them is directly facing the gym door. I could sit on one and spread my legs wide enough to give him a nice good-morning show.

  With more confidence, I hasten my steps and open the small gate to enter the pool area. An abrupt movement catches my attention and I turn sharply. Right at that moment, something with a rough surface hits the sole of my foot and makes me stumble enough to lose my balance. I scream as my hands try to hold on to the gate, but I find myself plunging into the pool.

  Nothing I do saves me from the pool water swallowing me up, and I sink deeply into the water, the chlorine-filled liquid invading my nose and mouth. I try to push my arms as hard as I can to lift myself up to the surface. The near-freezing temperature of the pool catapults my body into near-shock, but not enough for me to miss Kenneth’s silhouette standing right above the pool.

  “Are you all right?” He looks concerned when I manage to keep my head above water and cough up pool water. He places his hands on his hips that are covered beneath his red shorts, sweat drops glistening on his defined chest. He works out topless, my mind registers despite the shock to my system of the fall, the water, and the cold.

  I nod and swim forward toward him, expecting him to give me a hand up and out of the pool, suddenly realizing this unplanned incident might actually turn into a success once he sees me, my entire body, soaking wet beneath my skimpy gown. The thin fabric of the gown won’t hide any detail of my body. And all the while, he’ll be holding my hand and standing close to me.

  Breathless both from excitement and having come close to drowning, I stop before him and throw a hand up in the air toward his direction. But contrary to my expectation, he first glares at me and then turns around and heads for his gym. Shocked and shivering, I gape after him. He can’t be that much of a jerk and actually leave me shivering in the cold water. He must have left to get a towel or something for me.

  I wait and wait, but when I realize I�
��ll freeze in the water before he shows up again, I push myself up and carefully make my way back into the house.

  It takes a whopping fifteen minutes in a hot shower to get my body temperature back to normal, and even so, I sneeze several times during and after the shower. I’ll catch a cold, a deadly one, and at least my suffering and humiliation will come to an end.

  I don’t go back downstairs until every single strand of my hair is dry, and I’m properly clothed, as in with a long cardigan. Loraine was kind enough to skip buying a sweatshirt or a sweater that’d, heaven forbid, hide my body from Kenneth’s eyes. I can imagine how some women might fantasize about their husbands fooling around with another woman, but hers is over the top, hidden agenda or not.

  The sooner I get out of this madhouse, the better it’ll be for my psyche and my pockets. I’m actually grateful I’ll be parting ways with the Carter family in less than a week instead of the four months Loraine initially suggested to me. My next move would probably be to a mental institution if I really had to stay with them for four months under the current terms.

  That’s why I ignore the drawer with bras and panties and chose a simply cut minidress to go under the long cardigan.

  I change Jack’s diaper and dress him in a clean blue onesie before I head to Jamie’s room with him in my arms. Jamie takes her time to pee, wash her hands and put on fresh clothes.

  Neither Kenneth nor Loraine come to the kitchen while I help Jamie and Jack sit in their chairs and serve them their breakfasts. Jamie bubbles about the dreams she had last night and then asks where her parents are. I explain to her briefly that her mom is sick and probably won’t leave her bedroom for a while and that her daddy has to work.

  Her expression changes from joyful to disappointed in a heartbeat and she drops her spoon on the table. “Can I stay with you at home today? I don’t want to go to school.”

  I reach out and squeeze her gently on the shoulder, trying to think of a tender way to turn her down. I’m not a real nanny. She’s actually the first child I’ve had to take care of. I can’t imagine babysitting her the whole day without causing her a childhood trauma. Just yesterday, she came close to seeing my boobs naked while under my supervision. Not to mention the fact that she would actually need Kenneth’s or Loraine’s permission to skip school.

  Just when I start to open my mouth, Kenneth interrupts me. “That’s not a good idea, baby.” He walks into the kitchen with confident steps without wasting a single glance at me and leaves a kiss on top of Jamie’s head and on Jack’s cheek. His suit, shirt, and tie are black. He’s definitely not sporting a festive mood today.

  “Good morning, sir,” I mumble and pull my hand away from Jamie’s shoulder.

  Kenneth settles on the chair next to Jamie and across from me, while keeping his eyes on Jack who has both his arms stretched toward his father. Knowing he won’t spare a glance at me, I let my eyes travel down the body hidden beneath his clothes. I’d pull that shirt up and slip my hand beneath the waistband of his pants if I could. I bet he wouldn’t dare ignore me then.

  “Scott can drive you and the kids to school,” he says to me, completely occupied by the sweet moves Jack is making with his arms.

  “Sure.” I swallow and look down at my bowl of cereal, not wanting to eat in front of him despite my hunger and his indifference.

  He’s right across from me on the other side of the breakfast table, his long legs spread open. If I were to shift slightly toward him, I could brush my leg against his and make it look totally accidental. I slide down on my buttocks and spread my legs casually toward his, feeling the hem of my skirt rolling up on my thighs, the air hitting my fully naked pussy. If only he was wearing his shorts from earlier, then we could be touching skin on skin.

  A mischievous smile forms on my lips, making me grateful for his current indifference. I’m starting to think his disinterest is a show and comes from his efforts to keep himself in check. That belief makes me brave and I spread my legs toward him, pushing my hips closer to the edge of the chair.

  Perhaps for the first time in my life, luck finally decides to shine on me, and as if touched by a magical hand, in this case Jack’s hand, the bottle of milk slides down the table and falls to the floor, rolling down toward my feet.

  Kenneth, the ever dutiful father, bends down and moves under the table. It would take a fully blind man or complete darkness for him to miss my naked pussy spread open right before him, under the table where he should be looking for the dropped bottle.

  He hits his head on the underside of the table in an attempt to save himself from the direct exposure to my generously displayed pussy. And when he tries to pull himself back up, he pushes his chair back only to end up with his buttocks on the floor. How much more teasing stimulation can a man withstand?

  As soon as he’s up on his feet, he strides out of the kitchen faster than a mouse chased by a cat. I grin after him, thinking this pussy will soon catch him.

  CH 6

  ~

  Kids in their respective schools, Kenneth at work, and Loraine resting in her bedroom, leaves the whole house with an open swimming pool for me to enjoy….

  I could get used to this life.

  But, I have now only five days left and an overly stubborn man who won’t respond to my sexual advances. Am I going about it the wrong way? I showed him my pussy up close and he practically ran away. Aren’t men programmed to have sex with as many women as possible? Perhaps he’s not into sexually aggressive girls; which would be disastrous for me, because being passive will certainly not get me anywhere except out the door faster than an express train.

  I guess it’s time to place matters in Loraine’s able hands. She’s his wife of several years. If anyone would know how to push his buttons, she should. I stare at the pool longingly. Now almost midday, it’s warm enough to swim the day away. The serene sight of the calm pool water is wreaking havoc with my resolve to make it a productive day. I should go talk to Loraine and ask her opinion about Kenneth, clean up my room, figure out who brings in the delicious food and request a recipe or two—anything but waste hours having fun in the pleasurable depths of the tranquil pool.

  Reluctantly, my feet turn toward the stairs, and my shoulders slump forward as I drag myself through the living room. The front door bursts open suddenly, making my body tense in a fight-or-flight position.

  A red-haired, pale-skinned woman calls out Loraine’s name. “Honey, are you up there?”

  I rush to the door to ask the identity of this complete stranger. “Hello, who are you?”

  Her light-green eyes fix on me with a glare, and I can almost see steam coming out of her flared nostrils. Not a bit intimidated by her show of superiority, I level my gaze on her, without hiding my contempt at what I see.

  With her size zero body, fairly big chest, and long legs, she’s clearly an attractive woman and quite aware of it. But something about her tells me she wouldn’t make it to the top of the list of most eligible women. It might have to do with the position of her hand, thumb hooked at the strap of her purse, the rest of her fingers looking ready to claw the skin of anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path.

  “Excuse me!” I stand at the doorway to block her way. “Who are you?”

  Her lips curl up into a grim smile and with a quick move, she maneuvers around me and leaps toward the stairs, completely ignoring my inquiry about her name.

  I run after her and manage to stop her right before she steps her foot on the top stair. “You can’t come bursting in like that!” I say, or perhaps shout. I’m too furious to notice the nuances of my actions. She might have long nails but I have years of underdog’s anger brewing up in me. If it comes down to a catfight, I won’t be the one calling out for mercy. “Who are you?”

  Lifting her chin, she narrows her eyes at me. “Wendy Goldsmith.”

  Wendy, the shark number two? The realization makes my chest swell with pride, and the satisfaction of making life a little harder for her relaxes my t
ense muscles. Loraine will certainly praise my rudeness to her. Or maybe not?

  Forcing my lips into the most genuine smile possible, I take a step back and lace my hands together in front of me. “Would you be so kind as to wait here while I let Mrs. Carter know of your visit?”

  Without waiting for her reply, I turn around toward Loraine’s bedroom, while keeping an eye on Wendy the shark with nonchalant glances over my shoulder. After a quick knock, I open Loraine’s door and announce to her Wendy’s arrival.

  “Shit!” Loraine rubs her swollen eyes and sits up on her bed. Her greasy hair is a clear sign she hasn’t showered in two days. “Open the curtains and bring me a hair brush and powder foundation.”

  I hurry for the curtains first and push them wide apart, despite the obvious wincing on Loraine’s face at the bright sunlight streaming into her room.

  “Did she say what she wants?” she whispers while adjusting her gray silk pajamas on herself.

  “No. I could barely get her to stop before she burst into your bedroom.” I quickly spot a hair brush on the vanity table. But picking powder foundation will be hard because of the wide selection of the makeup products taking up easily a quarter of her bedroom and making Nordstrom’s pale in comparison.

  “Hurry!”

  I pick the first box off the top shelf, hoping it’s the right one and she can get herself pretty before the witch outside runs out of patience.

  I hand her the foundation and she asks me to brush her hair while she applies some of the light brown powder on her cheeks, forehead and chin. Despite her oily roots, a few brush strokes erase the messy look of her hair enough for her to appear presentable.

  “Call her in.” Grabbing the brush from my hand, she hides it together with the foundation in the drawer beside her bed and arranges the bed covers neatly. The makeup, though, couldn’t bring even half the liveliness to her face that was there the first day I met her.

  Feeling sorry for her, I hurry to open the door and invite Wendy in with an overly welcoming gesture.