by Alyson Hale
I chuckle. “I’ve heard she brags on me a lot. Sorry you had to listen to it even after I was gone.”
Cheyenne crosses in front of me to the sink and starts rinsing dishes. I stand beside her and open the dishwasher, then hold out my hand and let her hand me the rinsed dishes so I can put them in the dishwasher. A smile passes between us, and I can sense her appreciation.
“I didn’t mind hearing about you.” Cheyenne keeps her gaze focused on the glass in her hand. “After you left, I missed you. A lot. It helped me feel closer to you to hear how you were doing.”
I glance down sideways at her. She swallows, and I watch the movements of her neck. My gaze starts to move downward, and I jerk it back up. Damn it. I’m a dick. Here she is letting me in on her deep affection for me, and all I can do is think about my hardening shaft. I’m such a bastard for not realizing how my leaving must have affected her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call or write to you.” I place my hand on her arm, and she stops what she’s doing to look up at me. “I should have.”
Her mouth drops open just slightly, and I let my gaze wander the curves of her lips. They’re so much fuller than I remember…so kissable.
“It’s okay.” Cheyenne shrugs. “I was just the little girl next door. It’s not like you owed me anything.”
“Cheyenne, you meant a lot to me.” I turn to face her full-on. “I never told you this, but hanging out with you was one of the best parts of my day. You were not just my neighbor, you were a part of the family. I should have kept in touch with you, but I didn’t, and for that I’m so sorry.”
She looks up through her long, dark lashes at me. Her big, brown eyes are full of longing. The relationship we shared in the past was only at a brother-sister level, but that’s because there was nothing else it could be. She was eight, I was eighteen. Now things have changed. She’s changed more than I ever could have anticipated.
The pull between our lips becomes irresistible. Her beautiful eyes shutter closed as she leans into me. My mouth dries up and my heart thunders against the walls of my chest. Just as I’m bringing up one hand to hold her jaw, a small voice interrupts us.
“Da-ee!” His little feet slap against the hardwood floor as he runs at full speed into my legs, gripping me tightly.
Cheyenne and I pull away from each other, chuckling nervously. I feel a rush of relief, yet also a pang of disappointment.
“P’ay trains, Da-ee!”
“Uh…” I glance back at her.
Cheyenne waves me away. “Go ahead. I got this.”
My heart lights up with gratitude and a hell of a lot more I hate myself for feeling. “Thanks, Squirt.”
I let my son drag me by the hand into his playroom, scolding myself on the inside. How could I let myself get so close to ruining things? Kissing Cheyenne would have been a horrible mistake. She doesn’t belong to me. I don’t deserve someone as young and perfect and innocent as her. Cheyenne needs to find someone her own age who doesn’t already have a child and all the baggage that comes from a nasty divorce. I need to let go of this insane drive and need to be with her before it’s too late and I wreck the thing we’ve started here. Having her as Hudson’s babysitter worked like a well-oiled machine today. I need to start acting like a professional and keep my fantasies confined to the bedroom.
Because of course I’m going to be thinking about her tonight…all night long. It’s inevitable. Especially since her room on the corner of her house has a window that looks directly into mine.
Chapter Five
“Thank you, sweetheart.” My dad wipes his mouth, smiling as he stands from the table. “It was nice of you to save some of the dinner you made for the Sherwoods for me.”
“No problem.” I pick up his dishes. “Are you going back to bed?”
“I thought I might,” he says with a sigh. “I’ll just relax and watch some TV before falling asleep. Are you sure you don’t need any help down here?”
He looks around our kitchen, which is a bit of a mess. I’ve been keeping the dishes rinsed, but they’re piled up in the sink, and boxes of granola bars and cereal are in random places all over the counter. Dad has always been a bit of a slob, but now that he’s on so many medications he can’t even remember to put things away half the time. Not that I mind. I could use a little time alone to clear my head.
“I’m fine, Daddy. You go get some rest.” I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and he gives me one back.
“I don’t know what I would do without you.” Dad pulls me into a side-hug. “You’ve been great over the past couple of weeks. Your mother would be very proud.”
My nose stings with the urge to cry. Instead of letting myself tear up, I give him a quick squeeze and head for the sink. He trudges up the stairs to his bedroom, and I make quick work of cleaning the kitchen, feeling like I could use an early bedtime myself.
Once the dishwasher is loaded and running, I hurry up the stairs to my childhood bedroom, locking the door behind me. Before I peel off my clothes, I realize my window blinds are still up and I know full well which room my room looks into. Dad always used to warn me that the Sherwoods’ master bedroom looked into mine, so I always needed to keep my blinds down when I changed my clothes.
For a split second, I move toward the blinds to pull them down, but then I notice the light is on in the room across the way and there seems to be a large, looming figure off to the side. I look more closely, and my pulse races when I see him, fully nude except for a pair of black boxers. Grant is standing by the window and he’s looking down at his phone.
Clutching my shirt, I stand still as my stomach dances inside of me. I know something was about to happen between Grant and me tonight just before Hudson interrupted us. His hand grazed my face before my eyes snapped open. I felt his breath on my lips. I longed for his lips to touch down on mine, and it was a cruel awakening when he used my old nickname, putting me back in the “little girl” category again. Did he really not sense what was going on between us? I need him. I crave him. And if I ever want him to see me as an adult, I need to do something I’ve never done before. I need to act like one.
My hands tremble as I unbutton my pants and pull them off of my body, letting them fall unheeded onto the floor. I can almost feel the air freeze around me as he moves fully into the window frame. We make eye contact and his phone drops to the floor as I step out of my pants, kicking them off to the side. One by one, I undo the buttons on my shirt and watch as he braces himself with one hand on each side of the window frame. Even from a distance, I can see the hunger in his eyes. He wants this too. I don’t know why he’s resisting—maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s the divorce—but I do know there’s something here, and it’s not just one-sided.
When my shirt is unbuttoned, I stand still for a moment, letting my hands follow the curves of my breasts and hips. I see him mouth the word “fuck,” and I bite back a grin. It’s fun seeing how much I’m torturing him.
The soft fabric grazes me and makes my skin prickle with goosebumps as I drop it onto the floor. I stand still in my bra and panties, letting him look over me. His every muscle is tense, including one that I can clearly see protruding in front of him underneath his boxers. Seeing him turned on by me makes me want to touch myself. I run my hands over my bra-covered breasts and then my belly, letting my hand hover over my panty line.
Teasing him, I stretch out the sides of my lacy thong, turning slightly so he can see the thin strip of fabric going up between my ass cheeks. His window fogs with the heat of his breath. I let my hand wander down into my panties where my wet channel is waiting to be touched. I would rather be touched by him, but touching myself will do in a pinch. This is the first time I’ve ever touched myself in front of a man, and it feels amazingly good. Seeing him enjoy it makes it even better.
I rub circles around my clit, feeling my passion for him intensifying. My old crush has morphed into something else completely—an obsession. I’m crazy for this man, and, quite
clearly, he’s every bit as crazy for me. Maybe not in the same way I am, but he’s obviously turned on by me, and that’s a start.
My nipples pebble underneath my black lace bra. I want to take it off, but I’m still a little too shy for that. I’m blushing hard enough as it is just masturbating in front of him with my panties on. His hand is down inside his boxers now and I can see him pumping it back and forth. Veins are popping out in his neck and forehead as he works himself toward his own release. Getting off on each other through our windows is something I never could have imagined back when he first lived here. It’s exhilarating. I’ve grown up and outdone all the other girls he ever took into his bedroom. I don’t care what he did in his room with other girls before; nothing could ever have been as sexy and taboo as this.
The head of his dick pokes through the opening in his boxers. Even from a distance, only seeing the very tip of it, I can tell it’s huge. My kitten seizes up underneath my fingers, and I thrust a finger inside it as I rub furiously on my clit. A gush of warm fluid coats my hand, and I know I’m getting close.
Grant’s pecs flex, and he scrunches his face as white liquid shoots onto the window in front of him. Watching him come to the sight of me sends me over the edge. My muscles clamp and pulsate on top of my fingers, and I drench my hand and panties, whimpering. I’ve never watched a man come before. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
After both of us come down from our orgasms, Grant grins at me and gives a little wave. I wave back and close the blinds, embarrassed. Then I rush to my bed and throw myself into my pillow, face-down. What did I just do?
Within a few seconds, my phone dings. I pick it up and see a text from Grant.
Grant: I didn’t know my new babysitter was such a dirty girl. Seducing your employer through your bedroom window is a wicked thing to do. Someday I’m going to have to give you a good punishment for what you just did.
Something about his words sends a thrill through me. I ache to be punished by Grant Sherwood. I want him to take me over his knee and spank me, then punish me with something longer and harder than his hand.
My fingers turn cold and tremble as I try to think of something sexy to reply with. I’ve never done any of this before. Boys in high school only wanted to make out and set up our next make-out spot. They never wanted to flirt with me over text. Everything I’m experiencing with Grant is one hundred percent foreign to me. It has my stomach in knots.
Me: I didn’t know my employer made a habit of standing in his window, in plain view, in nothing but his boxers.
Me: You know your window looks into mine.
Me: I think you’re the one who should be punished for seducing your young, vulnerable neighbor.
There. It took me three texts, but I managed to pull something snarky out of my ass. Three flashing dots come up several times before he finally sends another text.
Grant: Touché. I won’t tell anybody if you won’t.
Me: My lips are sealed.
Grant: Excellent. Then this will be our little secret.
Excitement pulses through me on overdrive; then I experience a fall of disappointment. What have I just done? I’ve made myself his rebound. This man just got out of a marriage, and now he’s having some hush-hush fun with the little girl next door. I’m nothing but a game to him. A stimulating image to jack off to. I might as well be making porn for him.
Leaning against my headboard, I pull my knees up to my chest and sob quietly, trying not to make a sound so Dad won’t hear me. I’m so ashamed of myself. My mother would be equally ashamed of me if she knew what a whore I’d become.
I can’t let this happen again, no matter how much I want it to. I refuse to be Grant’s rebound girl. If he ever takes interest in me again, I want it to be real. If this was my only chance to act out my fantasies, so be it. I’d rather be nothing at all to him than be his dirty little secret.
Chapter Six
Damn it. I can’t figure women out for shit. One minute, this incredibly beautiful, smart, sweet girl is practically stripping for me in her room, giving me a mind-blowing orgasm beyond my wildest dreams, and the next she won’t even look me in the eye. All week long, Cheyenne has been avoiding me as much as possible. Every sentence addressed to me is clipped and professional. As soon as I come down the stairs after work, she gives me a lightning-fast summary of the day and runs back home as fast as she can. She still blushes underneath my gaze and checks me out when she thinks I’m not paying attention, but she won’t give me the time of day. I don’t know where I went wrong. It really seemed like we were connecting, and now things are so uncomfortable I’m considering hiring a different nanny.
The only thing I can think of is that Cheyenne is hesitant to mess around with her boss. She has been a wonderful nanny this past week, Hudson loves her to death, but that seems to be all she wants to be when she’s over here. If it means having her as my own, I’m willing to try to find someone else to watch Hudson whom he’ll like even half as much as he likes Cheyenne. I know that would essentially be putting my needs over my son’s, but I’m feeling that selfish right now. Cheyenne does something to me that no other woman has before, not even the woman I was married to for years. It’s like Cheyenne calls to me even when we’re nowhere near each other, even in my sleep. My dreams about her this past week have been so erotic that I can’t think about anything else. I’m desperate to feel her skin underneath mine, to take a handful of that beautiful hair, to thrust myself so deeply inside her that she’ll never be able to forget me or put me out of her mind again. I want to know what this bond is between us, what it’s been meant to be ever since we were too young to know what it was.
She was nice enough to agree to let Hudson and me come over to their pool after dinner tonight. Our repairman is set to come over next week, but Hudson has been begging to swim all week, so I finally caved. For the past thirty minutes as Hudson and Cheyenne swam together, I’ve been staying out of the pool to avoid making her feel uncomfortable, but I don’t think I can keep my distance anymore. I need to be near this woman, and she can’t run away so easily once we’re in the pool together.
As I head for the diving board, I pull off my white t-shirt and notice with satisfaction that she is watching my every move. Swimming was one of my favorite pastimes in high school and college, so I’m able to execute a perfect dive and stop swimming right before I get to her. Her gaze fixates on my chest as it slowly rises out of the water. I give her a teasing grin, and she blushes and looks away.
Hudson paddles away in his lifejacket toward the shallow end, and I keep an eye on him as I try to get Cheyenne’s attention. She pretends to be looking at one of the cracks on the sidewalk by the pool, but when I clear my throat, she looks at me.
“Cheyenne, I’m just going to be straightforward. Hudson has loved having you as his babysitter for the past week, but I don’t think things are working out.”
The horror in her eyes makes me immediately regret this harsh approach. “What? Grant, why?”
I find her elbow underwater and pull her closer to me. She recoils from my touch. I feel even more like a tool.
“Because I’ve never seen you look this uncomfortable before. It isn’t fair to you. I fucked everything up, and now you don’t feel safe around me anymore. I apologize for that. I wanted to give you the option to back out if you want to.”
Cheyenne’s deep brown gaze darts back and forth as she tries to come up with an answer.
“I…I still want to work for you, but…I mean, I understand if you’d rather have someone else…”
Her lower lip trembles. I tip her chin up to make her look me in the eye.
“Listen, Cheyenne.” I pull in so close to her that I can feel her breath on my chest. “There is no one I’d rather have than you. Do you hear me? No one.”
She shudders underneath my touch. I can tell from the way her eyelids are lowered and her mouth is dropped open that she is thinking about the same thing I am. The only thing I ca
n’t figure out is why she’s resisting me so much.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I lean in to whisper in her ear. “You’ve kept your blinds closed all week. It’s torturing me. I have to imagine what’s going on in there, and my fantasies are nowhere near as sexy as the reality of you.” I run my fingers down her soft abdomen, clenching my teeth as I resist the urge to drop my hand lower.
“It’s okay if you want me, baby. I want you, too. I want to cover your perfect body in my cum so the whole world knows who this sweet angel belongs to.”
She’s leaning her head against my neck now, her chest heaving against mine. Hudson is still playing happily with a beach ball in the shallow end, oblivious to what’s going on between me and his sweet, young babysitter.
“I want you, too, Grant.” She shakes her head against me. “But I can’t be your rebound. I can’t do that to myself.”
I jerk back to look into her eyes. “Rebound? Is that what you think you are to me?”
Her long, wet lashes shadow her eyes as she shrugs.
I cradle her in my arms, not caring who sees us or what they think of me. Fuck secrets. It’s not worth keeping our “reputations” intact if it makes us miserable. I’ve been worried about what people would think, an older man like me going after a girl who is barely out of high school, but fuck it. They can speculate all they want. Her father could take out a restraining order against me and I’d still be here trying to win over his daughter.
“Cheyenne Jefferson, you are a ray of sunshine in the vast darkness that is my life right now. It’s true that I just got divorced. Some men would use a sweet, innocent girl like you as a ‘rebound’ to help them get over their sham of a marriage. But baby, that’s not me and you know it. I would never do wrong by you, even if it meant I had to move away and never see you again. It would about kill me, but I’d do that for you. You know you mean the world to me, don’t you?”
