12. Hailee
Chapter twelve
Hailee
M y eyes fly open the next morning with my bladder screaming at me for relief. I flip off the sheet, almost getting tangled in it, and rush to the bathroom. Then I take my time washing my face and brushing my teeth, making sure to gargle with mouthwash for that extra fresh sensation. I tie my hair up in a messy bun with the hairband perpetually looped around my wrist and prepare to commence my morning “job.”
Emerging from the bathroom, the sight before me stops me in my tracks. Dameon lies sprawled on his back, fast asleep, his naked form bathed in the soft morning light filtering through the blinds. The white sheet barely covers his package, drawing my gaze like a magnet. I lean against the doorframe and take a moment to admire this perfect male specimen. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, and soft snores escape his parted lips. With one arm thrown above his head and his face turned slightly into the pillow, he looks utterly peaceful. His sandy blond hair is tousled, but that doesn’t detract from his perfection; it only adds to it. The defined muscles of his chest and abs call out to be explored, preferably with my tongue. It’s surreal to think that I’ll have the pleasure of being with this man for the next twelve months. I’m one lucky bitch.
I climb onto the bed with caution, moving on my hands and knees, careful not to jolt him awake. Pulling down the sheet, I find him semi-hard, even in his sleep. I position myself between his legs, carefully pick up his cock and plant a kiss on the tip. It pulses in response. With my minty-fresh tongue, I give the head a teasing lick, and I’m rewarded with a spurt of precum and a moan. Taking him fully into my mouth until he reaches the back of my throat, I hum, the vibrations causing him to harden further.
“Fuuuck, that feels good,” he moans, his voice husky from sleep. I slide off his dick with a pop.
“Good morning,” I say with a smirk.
“Mmm, it sure is, goddess.” He smiles sleepily, stretching out. With an arm behind his head, he closes his eyes and fists my bun with the other hand, guiding me back onto his cock. Hint taken—no more talking. Seems someone isn’t a morning person. I can make him one, though. I almost snicker at the thought. I suck him down hard and don’t relent, using my hands, tongue, and lips to give him one hell of a blow job—one he won’t soon forget. I don’t stop until I’m rewarded with his release, swallowing it down.
Dameon blinks his eyes until they’re wide open. “That was the best way to wake up. What on earth did you put on my dick? It was ice cold yet burning at the same time,” he marvels.
“Mouthwash.”
“Mouthwash?” he repeats slowly, as though trying to wrap his head around the concept.
“Yeah, did you like it?”
“Fuck yeah.” Our eyes lock, and the air thickens with tension. “Thank you,” he adds quietly, his eyes softening.
“Just doing my duty.” I shrug, trying to lighten the mood and break the intimate moment. I’m joking, but also, I’m kind of not. It’s a reminder that this is just a job, nothing more. For both of us.
His eyes narrow playfully. “Come here.” He quickly grabs my arm, flipping us over and pinning me beneath him. A surprised squeal escapes my lips as he lands on top, and I burst into laughter when he starts tickling my ribs.
“Just doing your duty? I bet your cunt is dripping for me, kitten. You get off from having my dick in your hot little mouth, don’t you?”
When I can no longer breathe through the laughter, I concede, “Fine, yes, you win. I love having your cock in my mouth, sir.”
His hand cups my core, squeezing, and I gasp at the sensation of his warm palm against my slick folds.
“It’s a shame I don’t have time to take care of my pussy right now. You’ll just have to wait until tonight. Only if you’re a good girl today.”
I feign shock, mouthing, Good, me? and pointing at myself.
He runs a hand through his messy hair. “Don’t act cute with me, you’re not fooling anyone with that innocent act. Come on, get up. I’ll introduce you to the staff before I head to the office.” He slips into a pair of boxers and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s go,” he says, smacking me on the ass as he leads me down the staircase.
Two women are bustling about the kitchen, and suddenly, I feel acutely aware of my nakedness. One of them, an elderly woman rummaging through the fridge, is dressed in crisp chef whites. She bears a striking resemblance to Martha; she could almost pass for her sister. Given Dameon’s penchant for keeping it in the family, it wouldn’t surprise me if they were related.
The other woman, considerably younger, is dressed in snug black slacks and a fitted white shirt that’s molded to her curves. It’s so tight it’s practically painted on. She’s strikingly beautiful, with flowing black hair and wide doe-like eyes, and she’s rigorously polishing the stone benchtop, making her large breasts bounce. Self-conscious, I almost reach to cover myself, when Dameon clears his throat. Both women turn around, and I push my shoulders back, making sure to look each of them square in the eye. I refuse to feel ashamed.
Their reactions couldn’t be more different: the older woman smiles, her expression seemingly pleased by my presence, while the younger one’s eyes trail down Dameon’s bare chest before fixing on me with a sneer. An actual sneer—I didn’t realize people still did that. She wrinkles her nose like she’s just stepped in dog shit and gives my naked body a disdainful once-over.
“This is Eloise, my talented chef,” Dameon says, gesturing to the poised woman in chef whites. “She ensures I’m well-fed every day, too well if you ask me.”
“Psh, if anything, you need more fattening up,” she retorts, lips pursed. “Hello, dear. It’s a pleasure to meet you. If there’s anything specific you’d like to eat, don’t hesitate to let me know.” To her credit, her eyes never shift below my chin.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”
“And this is Maddy, my housekeeper. She keeps everything in order and spotless.”
I bet she does.
And I bet she doesn’t mind polishing his knob, either. There’s no way they haven’t fucked. Not when she prances around with that ridiculously tight shirt with her bra peeking out, a full face of makeup, and blown-out hair. No one goes to that much effort for their job. Not even me, and my role is literally to seduce men.
“Nice to meet you, Maddy.” I fake a smile.
“It’s Madeline. Only those close to me call me Maddy.”
Oh, they’ve definitely hooked up.
“For goodness’ sake, Maddy, would it kill you to be nice?” Eloise rolls her eyes. “Once you’ve finished with the stone bench, the oven needs cleaning.”
“Since when do you tell me what to do? I don’t work for you, or her , for that matter.”
“No, but you work for me,” Dameon warns. “Be nice, Maddy,” he adds, dismissing her like an annoying fly.
Dameon laces his fingers through mine and leads me back to the bedroom. I’m itching to ask him about Maddy and the status of their relationship. On one hand, it’s none of my business. But if I’m living here for the next twelve months, I need to know what I’m dealing with. I have a right to know the score. But I also don’t want him thinking I can’t handle a little cattiness or that I care if he’s fucking someone else.
Shit, this is a mind fuck.
I swallow the burning question on the tip of my tongue, and it goes down like acid.
“I’m going to jump in the shower and head to work. I’ll see you tonight.” He plants a quick peck on my lips and disappears into the bathroom.
What the hell am I supposed to do all day?
***
Ouch. Fuck.
I gently massage aloe vera gel into my chest, welcoming the soothing coolness seeping into my burning skin. Glancing over my shoulder into the mirror, I grimace at the sight of my bright red back.
Crap.
I can’t reach my back, so I slather on another thick layer of gel across my chest and shoulders instead. My skin sizzles and prickles as the gel works its magic. This is ridiculous. I look like a lobster. I wouldn’t be surprised if it starts blistering. Serves me right for being lazy and not going back to grab the sunscreen.
After Dameon headed off to work, I decided to give the penthouse a wide berth, especially with bitch face Maddy lurking about. I didn’t want to interrupt Beth while she was kicking off her homeschooling today, either. So, I roamed around Bondi, taking in the sights and sounds. Bondi has such a unique vibe—it’s got an international flair, with loads of tourists and backpackers, but there’s also a tight-knit local community. You can spot the locals easily, especially the women in their Lululemon leggings, inflated tits and lips. My mother would feel right at home here. After signing up for a Pilates class—apparently it’s quite the thing to do in Bondi, with more studios than organic juice bars—I took a leisurely stroll along the beach.
Walking along the shoreline, feeling the warm sand between my toes while the sun blazed overhead, was pure bliss. I stripped down to my bikini and threw on a hat and sunglasses, but a quick rummage of my bag revealed that in my excitement, I had forgotten the damn sunscreen. The thought of going back to fetch it felt like too much effort.
I always knew my laziness would get me killed one day, but I didn’t think I would be going out with heat stroke at the start of spring. When I got back to the empty penthouse, a glance in the mirror confirmed my fear—that I had fucked up. Downing a bottle of water, I collapsed into bed, exhausted from the sweltering heat. When I woke up in the afternoon, it was worse. Much worse. My skin, at first a mild pink, now blazed a furious red.
Fifteen minutes ago, Dameon texted that he was on his way home. Now I’m standing in front of the mirror, feeling sorry for myself, and praying that aloe vera works miracles. My skin is like the surface of the sun, and I could almost cry from the pain. Giving myself a quick once-over, I can’t help but half laugh and half cry at the sorry sight. Wiping under my eyes, I sniffle and head downstairs to wait for him.