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After the longest day ever and the worst drive with the traffic, I park in my new parking spot that Damon is paying for. I was prepared to pay, but he insisted. Since he’s the one who asked me to live down here, it was his responsibility. After much arguing, I relented. His Mercedes is parked in the spot beside mine, but that doesn’t mean anything. Oftentimes he’ll catch a ride with Cooper or Miles or hop in an Uber if he doesn’t feel like driving.
I don’t know why I didn’t take him up on getting a driver for me. Yes, I do. Because I know how much it costs. I’m regretting that decision now after dealing with all the idiot drivers on the road today. I swear, put the happiest, most low-key, easygoing person in traffic for a couple of hours, and they’ll come out of the car as a vicious, intolerant asshole.
I walk across the street, glancing at Peeper’s Alley. I’ve yet to hang out there, and though I’m looking forward to a night out, tonight I just want to cuddle my baby girl and chill. I walk up the stairs and open the door to the apartment, and the shrill sound of laughter greets me. After slipping off my shoes and hanging my bags on the hooks by the door, I walk in and see no one in the main area.
“You’re wet,” I hear Damon say, and I stop in my tracks.
“So wet,” Astrid says.
My body goes ice cold, and I close my eyes. Please don’t tell me he’s sleeping with the nanny. My chest gets tight, and my heart rate picks up.
“Feel it, it’s soaked,” Astrid says.
I can tell now that the voices are coming from Damon’s room.
I don’t see Clover anywhere, so she must be sleeping in her crib, which is ridiculous. She should not be napping when it’s so close to her actual bedtime. I’m trying to get her on a schedule, and I specifically told Astrid that when we hired her.
When we interviewed Astrid, she was so polite, giving me most of her attention. I thoughtawesome, she doesn’t care about Damon. Maybe she doesn’t even follow football.But that all changed the first day on the job. She laughs at all his jokes—which aren’t all that funny—and she paws at him as though they’re cats and she’s trying to play with him. I’ve been meaning to mention it to Damon.
But this…
“Ohhh.” Astrid again. “Damon!”
Damon laughs. “I gotta get you out of these clothes.” God, he’s using the same voice he does with Clover.
“Be gentle,” Astrid says.
I feel as if I’m in a nightmare.
“I’m always gentle,” Damon says.
“With those big hands, you handle something so small perfectly.” I can only assume she’s talking about her tits. They are small. That’s one area I have her beat.
“I’m a master, that’s why.”
I groan.
“You sure are,” Astrid says with a soft purr to her voice that makes bile rise up my throat.
“Shit, Adeline should be home soon. We have to hurry,” Damon says.
I step back and sit on the edge of Damon’s bed, hearing them scramble.
“But you didn’t get everywhere. We have to finish.” Again, Astrid uses that stripper voice.
“No, I did. You go ahead and leave. I’ll handle the rest myself.”
I tilt my head. He’s going to jerk off?
“But—” Astrid fights leaving.
If his hands are on her, I can’t blame the girl. I wouldn’t want to leave either. I was in her shoes a long time ago.
“I’m good. Plus, your shirt and stuff.”
“Yeah, I suppose. Don’t want her getting the wrong idea. Okay, I’ll see you on Monday. Maybe we can do this again.”
“We’ll see.” Damon’s voice has lost some of the light quality it had earlier. Is he pissed he didn’t get to finish with her?
