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I was caught up in my head, but the moment Violet brushed against me as she walked past, a shiver ran through me, slamming me back to the present. Not only did she smell great and look good enough to eat, she was soft, too. I gritted my teeth, but I couldn't stop myself from checking out her backside as she bent to get a bottle out of the open fridge.
It was the longest five seconds of my life as Violet finally grabbed some water and stood. I should have looked away, angry at myself for ogling her, but my eyes wouldn't cooperate. She turned to me, and a heated look entered her eyes, her face reddening even more.
“I got it,” she said shakily, waving the bottle. When I said nothing, she looked away. “Um, goodnight.”
I clutched the island behind me to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing her. Her small body would fit against mine like a dream, and I could lick her lemon-scented skin until she was writhing and moaning in my arms. I groaned inwardly and shook my head. Where were these thoughts coming from?
“Violet,” I grated out into the silent kitchen.
She paused and turned to me. Her hazel eyes were dark and wide, the dip at the bottom of her throat pronounced. I would bet a million dollars she was holding her breath.
A hundred dirty thoughts begged to spill from my lips, but I shook my head and settled for "Goodnight."
She nodded slowly, then disappeared into the living room. I didn't hear her walk up the stairs, but the sound of her door closing grounded me. Immediately, I sagged against the island, blowing out a breath. What was that about?
Well, fuck. From my end, she was an attractive woman, and I was drawn to her. But as always, nothing ever slipped past me. I kept my feelings tightly leashed until I was ready to let them out. So, no, my internal thoughts didn't warrant her reaction. Except, maybe she had feelings of her own. I cocked my head, considering.
Her reaction the moment she saw me now made sense. She'd been flushed and jumpy like I had caught her in the act. She was a woman who stayed home all weekend looking after kids and needed a release. But did she imagine being with me? If so, she was probably nervous afterward. Perhaps seeing me made her feel like I'd know immediately what she'd done. I could almost picture her now, drinking from that water bottle, closing her eyes, her lips wrapping around the tip. Fuck, I wish it was my cock.
I tore myself from the island and pulled a beer from the fridge. Uncapping it, I gulped half the bottle before stopping for a breath. I was getting distracted. I still knew too little about Violet. I didn't need my dick getting hard over thoughts of what I could do with her. Imagining her eager body opening up for me and sinking my cock into her soft heat.
I drained the bottle and went for another. Think of something else, you asshole! My head refused, imagining all the ways Violet would respond to me. Since my mind wouldn't let it go, I decided to do a little investigation on the subject instead. Specifically, on how Violet had left her job, come to work here, and why she was so jumpy. She came here to work, not become the object of my fantasies. I couldn't do anything about my hard-on with her, no matter how much I thought about it.
I grabbed my phone and went into the study, calling Troy. I dropped into the leather chair and waited. It was late, but this was the only time I knew he'd be at home and not working at the office.
“There are only two reasons why you’d be calling me,” Troy's voice came on the line.
“What?” I took a swig from the bottle.
“One, you're plastered at a club and need a ride so I can take a picture and slander you on your fiftieth birthday. Or two, a woman just told you you're going to be a dad again for the third time.”
Despite my irritation, I laughed. “Neither.”
“Ugh, gimme something interesting, man. It's the weekend. You can't be calling for something work-related.”
"Don't know if this is interesting, but it's not work-related, either."
“What is it, then?”
The seriousness in my friend's voice made me set down the bottle. This wasn't a social call, and my questions may raise his suspicions about Violet's employment here. She was a great nanny, and I wasn't about to throw her under the bus, but I needed to know.
“What do you know about Violet's last place of employment? Why did she leave?”
“Why? Did something happen?”
I recalled the night I was nearly knocked over the head. "Nothing, really. Just curious."
Troy paused for a long minute before responding, “Layla has said some things, but I think it's best if you heard it from her."
I waited until Layla's cheery voice came on. “Shawn, how are you? How are the boys?”
“All good.” Clearing my throat, I asked, “During the interview, you told me Violet moved here from another city, leaving her teaching job.”
“Yes.”
"Why?"
Layla laughed nervously. “Why does it matter? People move all the time.”
