Upon entering the kitchen, I realized this was another one of those things I was going to have to get used to. Yes, I was living in Aaron’s home as the nanny, and room, board, and all meals were included as part of my employment, but I didn’t feel comfortable rummaging around his refrigerator and pantry looking for Cheerios and milk.
After another few minutes of contemplation, I decided to make pancakes for all of us. It was a nice gesture the first morning I was here, and it gave me the opportunity to check things out in the kitchen. Pancakes were always a good reason to look through someone’s cabinets.
As I moved around, I looked through the pantry and cabinets, gathering the ingredients I needed to make the pancakes. Once I had it all lined up, I began measuring and dumping into a stainless steel bowl. With a large whisk, I beat it together until it was the perfect consistency.
I looked above the island in the center of the kitchen to where numerous pots and pans hung. I could’ve used a regular frying pan, but going by how much Aaron liked to cook and use his kitchen, I was willing to bet that there was a griddle somewhere around.
I knelt down and looked in some of the cabinets on the side of the island. When I didn’t spot anything, I looked up in a cabinet to the right of the large stove. Immediately after opening it, I saw the griddle that I was looking for. It was at the very bottom of a stack of platters. As I pushed and moved the platters aside, I placed my hand under the griddle to bring it out, but as I did, I felt and heard that I had knocked something small over inside the cabinet.
Once I removed the griddle, I set it down on the counter and plugged it in to heat up. I went back to the cabinet, straightening the platters and reaching in to find whatever I’d knocked over. I felt a small bottle, and when I brought it forward to put it back in place, I saw it was a prescription bottle. I turned it around to look at the front and the patient’s name read: Aaron Matthews.
I heard a toilet flush, followed by footsteps running down the hallway upstairs. It startled me, so I shoved the bottle back in the cabinet and closed it quickly. The last thing that I needed was my boss finding me checking out his pharmaceuticals, even if it was by accident.
I didn’t get a chance to see what the prescription was for, and I’d be lying if I wasn’t curious. My mind began running wild. Was he sick? What if it was something serious? It could be anything…viral…bacterial…hair loss…restless leg syndrome…dry eyes…Oh no…what if it was…No…I couldn’t even think about it…but…what if it was erectile dysfunction?
The thought was too horrible to even ponder.
“Come on, Daddy,” Delilah shouted from upstairs.
I thought Delilah would like Mickey Mouse pancakes, so with a measuring scoop, I poured two small circles onto the griddle. I was attempting to make the face, but the thoughts of the possible penile medication invaded my mind once again.
I looked back to the griddle and saw that while I was praying, I forgot I’d poured the batter. The burned edges of the pancakes caused smoke to rise from the griddle and fill the air. I flipped the switch on the exhaust fan to clear the fog while I scraped off the ruined pancakes, replacing them with new batter. While I watched it bubble, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and into the hallway.
“Callie! You’re here!” Delilah ran into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around my waist.
I was flipping her pancake, and with my free hand, I patted her back. “I am. I promised I would be.”
Aaron entered, looking sleepy in a wrinkled T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms.
“Morning,” I said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I decided to make breakfast.”
“That’s nice of you,” he replied halfheartedly without his usual smile or friendliness. “But it isn’t part of your job description.”
He brushed past me and to the cabinet next to the fridge. After grabbing a bag of coffee, he started fumbling with the coffeemaker.
Someone wasn’t a morning person.
“Pancakes!” Delilah said.
“Do you like pancakes?” I asked, placing the Mickey Mouse pancake on a plate.
She nodded while jumping up and down. “I do!”
“Good. Here you go,” I said, handing her the plate.
She took the plate with two hands, and when she realized what it was, she started bouncing again. “It’s a Mickey. Daddy look what Callie made me.”
“That’s great, sweetie,” he replied without turning his attention from the coffeemaker. “Make sure you say thank you.”
Delilah looked up at me and smiled brightly. “Thank you, Callie.”
Aaron slammed the top of the coffeemaker down and walked to the refrigerator. We reached it at the same time and grasped for the handle simultaneously. With just the tips of my fingers grazing the top of his hand, I stilled—the energy rose between us.
Or maybe it was just between me and myself.
My eyes darted to his, and for a quick second, his eyes held still on mine, until he snapped his hand away from my touch.
“Sorry,” he said. “Go ahead.”
I was taken aback by his attitude, which was seemingly so different from the man I’d sat with in a hot tub the night before. Perhaps he really wasn’t a morning person, but if I was being truthful, I felt like it was more than that.
I poured Delilah her milk, and as I went to return the carton to the fridge, Aaron grabbed it from me instead. “Thanks, I’ll take that.”
I returned to the griddle and flipped the pancake that had started to bubble. “Aaron, how many pancakes would you like?”
He was stirring his coffee and staring off into space. “Aaron?” I repeated.
His head snapped to attention. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Pancakes. How many would you like?”
“Whatever is fine with me. Do you want coffee?” he said, reaching for another coffee mug.
“Yes, thank you, but I’ll get it myself. Why don’t you sit down with Delilah before the pancakes get cold?” I took the three pancakes off the griddle and placed them on a plate.
Aaron had seated himself next to his daughter, and as I placed the plate in front of him, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I like cooking and I don’t get to do it often. Plus, with a kitchen like this, it’s a pleasure.”
I helped myself to a cup of coffee and grabbed my plate to join Aaron and Delilah.
I looked to Delilah who had dismembered her Mickey pancake’s ears and was sporting a milk mustache. “Is it good?” I asked her.
She nodded her head. “Better than Daddy’s.”
Aaron and I laughed knowing four-year-olds don’t have much need for tact.
“I’m glad you like them,” I said.
Aaron took a sip of his coffee and turned his attention to me. “Do you want to come to the park with us?” I asked, clearing the table of plates.
“Sure. Let me just get showered, okay?”
“All right. I’ll get Delilah all ready and we’ll get going.”
He nodded, and he took a final sip of his coffee. “Sounds good. Thanks again for breakfast.”
He smiled, the smile that I was waiting for since he first walked into the kitchen, and his entire demeanor lightened. I guess his mood was nothing a little coffee and pancakes couldn’t fix.
* * *
We were sitting on a bench at the park, watching Delilah on the swings, silent. He lifted his phone from his pocket and started fiddling with it. I had a love-hate relationship with mobile phones. Of course, the convenience factor was a plus, but the way it was used to avoid interactions with people around you was the biggest negative. In Aaron’s case, it was working to his advantage.
“Do you want some coffee?” I asked. “I can run across the street and get some for us.”
“No, thanks,” he said, without looking up from his phone. “You go ahead.”
“That’s okay. I was just seeing if you did.”
He shook his head.
“You were only asking for me?”
No. I was asking the other jackass sitting next to me.
I thought it best to not even answer him because if I did, I might say something I regretted.
“Callie!” Delilah called from the swing. “Come push me.”
I ran over to her, and stood behind her. “Remember to use your legs like I showed you. Out and in, okay?”
I gave her a small push, waiting for her to start moving her legs, before pushing her more. Her soft voice was encouraging herself, repeating, “Out and in.”
She begged for me to push her higher and higher, and once I did, I stepped back to move in front of her. There was such pure joy on her face. I briefly wished that my life could be so simple as trying to reach the clouds on a swing.
I looked over and Aaron was nowhere to be found. Figuring he went to find a bathroom, Delilah and I moved from the swings to other areas of the park. I was standing close under her at the monkey bars when I saw Aaron approaching, carrying two Starbucks cups.
“Oh!” Delilah said, swinging to the last hook. “Is one for me?”
“No. But I got you a cookie instead.”
I helped Delilah down, and she ran to meet Aaron. She grabbed for the small brown bag with her goodie in it, but Aaron yanked it away.
“We need to find some place to wash your hands, baby girl,” he said.
She started to pout, kicking dirt with her rhinestone-toed sneakers. I pulled a travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer from the pocket of my jacket and walked to them.
“Here, Delilah,” I said. “Come use this and then you can have your cookie.”
I squirted a small amount into her tiny hands, and when she had rubbed it in, Aaron handed her the cookie.
“You think of everything, don’t you?” Aaron asked, watching Delilah run off with her cookie.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Keeping her free of dirt and germs, I think, is in my job description.”
“Here,” he said, holding out one of the coffee cups to me. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I went with a double-shot vanilla latte.”
Okay. I take back the jackass comment.
I took the cup from him. “Thank you. This is actually my favorite drink,” I said, taking a sip. “Changed your mind, huh?”
For the first time all afternoon he looked at me, like really looked at me. His eyes scanned mine while his expression seemed serious. “No. I didn’t change my mind. I remembered sometimes what I want and what others want isn’t the same.”
He turned his head once again and didn’t look my way again for the rest of the day.
After putting Delilah to bed later that evening, I closed the door to her room softly as I exited, sighing deeply as I leaned against it. Aaron had said his good nights to Delilah and retreated to his office.
He was avoiding me. I just didn’t know why. A pit formed in my stomach from anxiety, wondering if I’d done something wrong or considering if the Aaron I saw now was the real Aaron. I went over and over our time together up until this morning. There was kindness and interest on his part. The previous night, in the hot tub, there was a…connection. I couldn’t name it or articulate what it was, but it was there.
Or maybe I had imagined all of it.
I pulled the elastic from my hair that held it in a bun. My fingers dug through my hair so I could massage my head, trying to release the tension. No. I needed something more. I was feeling more and more depressed by the minute. I needed a distraction.
After I took a long bubble bath, I climbed into bed with a book, but my mind was still all over the place. What would it take to quiet my brain and relax me?
Well. There was always one way, but I couldn’t. No, I couldn’t in Aaron’s house, not with both him and a little girl down the hall.
No.
Well. Maybe?
I rushed to my closet and reached for my Rabbit that I had hidden behind a blanket. As I situated myself on my bed, I briefly experimented with the buttons before feeling comfortable enough to give it a try. The moment the tip of the Rabbit ears met my most sensitive spot, a sensation so powerful and intense overwhelmed me.
“Evelyn wasn’t kidding,” I said to myself.
Aaron was my most taboo fantasy and I gave in. I submerged myself within the walls of illusion, the place where Aaron took my face in his hands and kissed me deeply.
The place where he’d moved his hands from my face to my hips, roughly pushing me into him to feel where he was hard.
The place where we’d barely make it to bed as we frantically removed each other’s clothes.
The place where we touched and tasted each other’s bodies, gripping tightly to the want we’d been so hungry for.
The mixture of mental and physical arousal was more than I could handle, and I became unaware of much else. My softened moans, whispered words, were all just for me to hear.
Chapter Eight
AARON—
I didn’t mean to listen.
What a bullshit thing to tell myself. Of course, I did.
I heard her say my name as I passed by her room on the way to my own. When I stopped to listen for it again, I heard her moan softly, once…twice, followed by my name again.
It was everything I wanted and feared at the same time.
I didn’t know what it was with this girl, but I couldn’t get her out of my mind. After I stood outside her door for longer than I should’ve, like the perverted fuck I was, I rushed back to my room to take a shower.
Oh, and also to take care of the raging hard-on I got by hearing her say my name.
Christ, Aaron. What the hell are you doing? Oh. That’s right. The same thing you did the night before.
I entered the shower, turning the knob all the way to one end to make the water as hot as possible. Once I was wet all over, I reached for the soap and started getting a good, strong lather going. If I didn’t take care of the stiff one I had, I was concerned I’d cause permanent damage.
Once I was satisfied with the amount of lather, I placed the soap back on the shelf and brought my hands to my dick that was begging for a release. I intertwined my fingers and slipped my cock between the palms of my hands. As I released a muffled groan, I leaned my forehead against the marble shower, letting the warm water wash over my back while drowning myself in images of Callie.
Starting with slow but firm strokes, I worked my palms up and down my hardness, my fingers tightening to increase pressure. It didn’t take long for me to immerse myself in the imaginary scenario, a scene in which I started at her toes and kissed and nibbled my way upward. My hands moved quicker, and I increased my rhythm until I was pumping myself hard.
The fantasy continued with my journey up her body, stopping at that little fucking heart on her hip. After giving her a playful bite on it, I worked the outline of the heart with the tip of my tongue. Her body squirmed with excitement, and she whispered my name.
I moved my tongue from her hip down to the inside of her thigh, taking my time. She lifted her head to look down at me before I went any further. My gaze held hers and I waited. Then, I waited more. I was going to wait until she begged for me.
My cock throbbed almost painfully for its own release, but my hunger for her took precedence.
All at once I was pulled from the fantasy and was back in my shower, head still against the marble and my hands rapidly tending to my dick. I was moments away from my release when my mind gave Callie one last look. A beautiful sight of her body arching up off the bed and her orgasm taking her over. My cock pulsed and I came hard, my thoughts of her disappearing into the steam around me.
Later, I laid in bed, trying to get comfortable even though I knew sleep wouldn’t come easily. Everything that had happened since I met Callie had been such a whirlwind, a flurry of overpowering emotions, that I had no idea how to separate them all. What started off as me simply hiring a nanny was turning into something much different.
When Callie moved in, she conjured up a pleth
ora of feelings I hadn’t had in years. Desire and want, the most basic elements of attraction, crashed down on me. Her smile and enthusiasm lit up a room, along with the energy she brought to the house.
There was so much chemistry between us, but I pushed it aside. I assumed I was out of the game for so long it could have been anyone that caught my eye, but as soon as she moved in, I knew I was wrong.
What the hell was my problem? I was her boss. She was living with me and my daughter. The thoughts I had of her were completely reprehensible and made me even more of a pathetic jerk.
I shut off my sexual desire when my only concern in life was Delilah, but in one fell swoop, Callie changed it all. Everything shifted after last night in the hot tub. That was the first night I got myself off thinking of her.
It was wrong—beyond wrong. It was completely reprehensible.
This morning, I was cloaked in guilt. In order to put it behind me and get Callie out of my mind, I did the only thing I knew how to do. I acted like a total jackass to her. I ignored and avoided her at every turn. It didn’t mean I still didn’t take notice of her, but I thought if I could separate myself from her as much as possible, the want would stop.
Sometime during my struggle to fall asleep, I must’ve dozed off because I awoke to my bedroom door opening slowly. Thinking it was Delilah wanting to sleep in my bed, I called her in.
“Come on in, sweetie,” I said.
The door continued to open, but I soon realized that it wasn’t Delilah. It was Callie. She was wearing a pink tank top and matching short shorts.
“Aaron,” she whispered. “Are you awake?”
I wasn’t sure. “Huh?” I asked.
“Aaron,” she repeated. “I need you.”
Was this real?
“I’m sorry to wake you,” she whispered.
I sat up slowly, gazing at her, sleepy and confused. “It’s okay,” I said sitting up.
“Callie, what is it?” I asked. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you holding a knob?”
“I…ah…”
I threw the covers off and got up in a hurry. “Callie?”
So Twisted Page 7
