Chapter Two
Cash
Was she even wearing a bra?
Why the hell did I notice her enough to question it? Why is my cock hard thinking about her firm, speared nipples, or the way her heavy breasts hung beneath her dress, and how’d they’d feel against my tongue?
We’re at the lake, it’s the first sunny day we’ve had in a week, and I’ve got a cold beer in my hand and my pole in the water. The last thing I should even be thinking about is my best friend’s daughter and her bra situation.
Hell, my kids are playing ten feet away. What’s wrong with me?
Lord knows I shouldn’t be thinking about whether or not my nanny was wearing a bra, or about her perfect, bouncy, little tits, or the way her hair falls off her shoulders, a few strands curling near her nipples.
I don’t keep up with the bible much these days, but I’m pretty sure it’s a sin to picture my best buddy’s daughter bent over and spread wide, her little, pink pussy on display while I thrust my old, perverted cock deep inside of her.
“Dad!” Cora shouts, rightfully interrupting my ill-timed delusions.
“When is Ms. V coming? She said she’d be here in an hour.
Has it been an hour?” My daughter stares toward me with big, brown eyes that soften every rough edge I’ve ever had.
She’s only five and I already know I’m gonna miss days like this.
“It’s only been forty-five minutes, bug. We gotta give her time.”
“Okay,” Cora sighs before skipping back toward the beach where my son Jake sits squeezing sand through his hand quietly.
He’s four next month, and he still hasn’t said a word.
I’ve taken him to so many doctors. They all say words like ‘developmental delay,’ but none of them have answers on when or if he’ll ever let me hear his voice. Their advice is always ‘give it time.’
I guess Cora is her father’s daughter… because waiting is bullshit.
I scrub my hand down over my face as Cora settles next to Jake at the water’s edge. She’s always talking to him, telling him stories, and doesn’t seem bothered that he doesn’t talk back. It probably sounds terrible, but these days, I follow her lead when it comes to my son.
I try to talk like Cora does, steady and patient, and I hope that someday, in his own time, he’ll say something back. Lord knows that my anxiety with all of this isn’t going to make him speak any sooner.
I wish I had more hours in the day to spend with the kids.
Maybe then things would be different around here.
Between the distillery and the ranch, I’m fairly strung out for time.
I thought a nanny was the way to go, and when my best buddy offered the help of his daughter, I figured it was the perfect fit.
I know Violet very well, and the fact that she could only be here temporarily was perfect.
It was intended to be a trial period to get us through the summer hump.
Now, I don’t ever want her to leave. Even when she takes a day off, I miss her. Sure, it’s in part because of the way she takes care of the house and the kids, but if I’m really honest with myself, I miss her presence.
Her soft voice.
Her thick, round curves.
The way she moves.
My cock stretches outward at the mere thought of her full hips pressed into the countertop as she lifts up onto her toes for a cup on the top shelf.
I’ve been blaming this on the fact that I’m a lonely man and that it’s human nature for a man to be attracted to a woman with curves as thick as Violet’s.
That’s what I tell myself.
I tell myself these lies because it makes me feel better about the fact that I’ve had fantasies about Violet long before she came to work for me. Back then, they were easy to push away given the fact that I didn’t see her every day.
Now that she’s in my house, the attraction I have to her is a completely different story. Now, I see every cute little outfit, every nighttime T-shirt, and every late-night walk to the bathroom with messy hair and no bra.
My cock strains against my shorts and an aching urge gnaws at me like a hunger I’ve never felt.
I don’t know what to do about this. It’s sick.
It’s sick and I should probably find someone else to watch the kids.
It makes the most sense. But who? Who would I find that I trust like I trust Violet?
Who would I find that’s as good with Jake and Cora?
I can control myself.
I need to control myself!
I glance at my watch. It’s been two minutes since I told Cora forty-five. I guess my impatience is showing too.
“Look at this, Dad!” Cora runs from across the beach, her little feet digging into the sand as she squeezes something tight in her fist. I love this about her.
She’s so inquisitive, and she still looks at me like I’m her hero.
“See,” she says, opening her small hand slowly, “it’s a rock with a pink stripe. ”
“That’s quartzite,” I say, brushing my finger over the rough stone. “The ancient giants carried it from the mountaintops eons ago. Legend has it that only the kindest of hearts can read its messages.”
“Dad,” she tilts her head to the side and narrows her gaze like I’m full of it, “you told me last week giants don’t exist.”
“What?”
Her eyes roll to the side as a cloud hides the sun. “When we were reading the beanstalk story.”
“Oh, well,” I clear my throat and take the rock from her hand, “they don’t exist anymore. They used to, but then they turned to mountains.”
Her eyes widen. “Are we going to turn to mountains someday?”
God, I need to get the lore for my fictional world straight one of these days.
“Maybe, or maybe we’ll be birds. Who knows?”
“Do I get to decide?”
“I think so,” I say, nodding slowly. “Some people choose to be big and tall like mountains, and others choose to fly.”
“What about fish? Can I be a fish someday?”
I really don’t know what this conversation is about anymore, and I’m one hundred percent certain that I’m going to get an email from the summer camp teacher with concerns over the stories Cora’s telling everyone about becoming a fish, or a mountain, or a bird… but I’m already in this deep.
“Yeah, in a hundred years you get to choose.” I nod toward the water’s edge. “I know there are more of those rocks down there. You should see how many you can find.”
“Yeah!” She jumps up and down in the sand, a wide grin on her face. “I can figure out what all their secrets are because I have a kind heart.”
My chest warms. “That you do, little bug.”
She’s knee-deep in the lake when I hear voices behind me.
I already know it’s Violet, though I try to play it cool and act like I haven’t been thinking about her non-stop since this morning, but my body turns toward her instinctively.
She’s wearing a small pink bikini with a crocheted white cover that leaves nothing to the imagination.
I’m not sure what I expected, given that it’s the first sunny day we’ve had in weeks, but it wasn’t this.
Her friend Bella could be wearing the Eiffel Tower on her head and I wouldn’t notice. No offense to Bella, but I’m not sure anyone would. Violet is all bouncing tits and wind-blown hair. I can’t look away.
Why the fuck can’t I look away? Why is my entire body aching to bend her over right here in the sand? Why do I want to fuck her hard and fast, fill her up, hear her sounds?
Jesus Christ, what am I even saying? She’s my best buddy’s daughter. She’s twenty years younger than me. I need to get a grip.
Swallowing hard, I wave politely. “You ladies need any help?”
“No, I think we’ve got everything,” Violet says, “but your line is pulling like maybe you caught something.”
I’m still too focused on her body to understand what she’s said, which could be bad, though she’s still smiling, so whatever it is can’t be that important.
“Your line, Dad!” Cora shouts, distracting me long enough that I look back to see my pole bent into the water.
“Oh, shoot!” I grab the pole from the sand spike and begin to reel. Whatever it is, it’s light, though it’s my first catch of the season, and there’s always a little thrill with that.
“Trout,” Violet says, setting her chair down next to mine. “Little small. What is he… twelve inches?”
I’m fucked if twelve inches isn’t impressive. Thankfully, the kids interrupt me before I digress.
“That’s a floppy fish, Dad!” Cora squats down next to it at the shore as Jake jumps up and down beside her, his brown hair bouncing in the wind as his laughter carries across the lake, bright and unrestrained.
I love seeing him excited.
“You happy to see the fish, buddy?”
He’s smiling as he nods and points toward the water, as though he wants me to put the trout back where it belongs.
Violet is already next to me with the pliers from my fishing box, like we’ve done this a thousand times before, and this behavior is something that’s becoming very common.
At home, she’s handing me a napkin before I know I need one, and when we’re out in the barn, she’s clearing out the path as soon as I pick up the feed, making sure I don’t trip.
Every time before I need something, she’s right there with it.
Hell, the woman even knew I wanted an apple pie last week, and I didn’t even mention it. It’s borderline telepathy.
As we get closer, her hand brushes against mine while she uses the pliers to take the hook out of the fish.
I would’ve done it, but she didn’t hesitate and I wasn’t going to push her away, not when her tit keeps rubbing against my arm and the smell of whatever floral shampoo she uses is surrounding me.
“There we go.” Violet grins. “Do you want to put him back in the water, Jake?”
“Wait, Dad!” Cora grabs my phone from the folding chair and points it up toward Violet and I. “You almost forgot to get your picture with the fish!”
The photo isn’t even snapped yet, and I already know I’m going to do filthy things with it later. It’s pretty fucked up that my brain went there immediately.