5. Chapter 5 – Lincoln
Chapter 5 – Lincoln
I t was six on the dot and I rounded the corner into the kitchen, anxious to see what was waiting for me. I resisted the urge to watch my desirable little housekeeper on the cameras all night and then again this morning as she prepared for day one.
I ached to see her move around my home but refrained so I could judge her actions accordingly in real-time.
Last night I’d been watching her after our online chat and when she left the guest house in her skimpy little black bikini, I moved through the house to the darkness of the back patio so I could finally watch her in person.
I’d spent my entire life watching people through cameras, and normally I preferred it that way because I couldn’t actually stand literally anyone. But with Peyton, I wanted to share air with her like no one else before.
So I lurked in the shadows as she floated around in the pool, stargazing and relaxing. I fixated on her, which should have been alarming, but I couldn’t look away. She consumed nearly every thought since her application crossed my desk. And knowing she was in a skimpy bathing suit in my pool left too much temptation to resist.
I had planned to simply watch her, which was my specialty. However, when she got into the hot tub, she was too far away from the patio to watch, so I stalked her around the edge of the pool, keeping myself hidden in the dark until I was less than thirty feet away.
And then she straddled my stone jacuzzi and rode it like a pony until she came with a scream of ecstasy. And I couldn’t help myself.
I revealed myself.
I. Never. Revealed. Myself.
Ever. That was rule number one and a fucking mistake I couldn’t afford to make, even with my staff.
Yet I walked into the light and spoke, drawing her drunk eyes up to mine as her big tits swung free and bare to my starving eyes. Fuck, what I would have given to take a bite of them right then and there.
Instead, I played with her, like a peculiar new pet I wanted to fuck with. I tormented her and made her squirm, both physically and figuratively, as she tormented herself with that same jet she used to come the first time, desperate to hide her nudity from me.
Her boss.
Her mean, crass, and judgmental boss.
At least that was what I wanted her to think of me. It was the only way to keep her safe from me.
Until I was ready to play with my new toy.
When I returned to the shadows of the house, I turned back and watched her shatter on yet another orgasm, eating it up like my new favorite drug.
Oh, the ways I’d make her sweet voice scream for me when I finally touched her.
But if my original plan was going to work, I had to see it all through .
So there I was, walking in for breakfast like any other day before Mrs. Straight abandoned me and anxiously awaited if Ms. Peyton Everett had the potential to be a good girl or not.
And what a good fucking girl she was.
As I neared the breakfast bar in the kitchen, she laid a steaming plate down at my preferred spot, wiping her hands on an apron that wrapped around her waist. Images of her bent over the kitchen counter in just that apron while I fucked her from behind filtered through my brain as I took my seat.
“Good Morning, Mr. Bryce.” She greeted me hesitantly as I unrolled my silverware and laid my napkin down on my lap, ignoring her.
I picked up the cup of hot coffee and took a sip, only then gracing her with my attention as I swallowed down the molten lava. “Did you give your instructions to my groundskeeper?” I asked, in place of a greeting.
“Um—” She hesitated and blushed at the quick mention of last night’s events. “He’s not here until seven. I’ll make sure to take care of it immediately after he arrives.”
“Very well,” I hummed, as if that answer was unacceptable.
“Is there anything else—” She started, nodding to the meal laid out on the bar as I started dressing my omelet with salt and pepper.
“No.” I cut her off, “That’s all.”
“Yes, Sir.” She mumbled, dipping her head in a slight bow and backing out of the kitchen as if I’d strike if she turned her back to me.
What a silly little act, feigning innocence and a demure nature when we both knew she was anything but. She just didn’t know how much I knew about her. Yet.
But she would.