Page 37 of Forbidden Fruit

I stop in front of the door, taking deep breaths and rehearsing my little speech. My hand rises to knock, but a sound stops me in my tracks. I’m frozen in place, fist raised, heart thumping like a drum inside my rib cage.

My ears strain to hear it again.

And I do.

A low moan.

Unmistakable.

Intimate and delicious.

Notintended for me.

I should turn around. I should leave my employee to her… nighttime routine. And not listen like a perverted creep. And I’m about to do it when Vanessa whimpers my name in between intakes of breaths, hinting towards her impending orgasm.

I stay rooted in place, cock hard and aching, leaking at the tip. Her moans grow louder and I move to leave, realising that the curtains on the North-facing window are wide open, giving me the perfect view of Vanessa fingering herself on her couch. On my couch.

She wears the thinnest and shortest night gown known to man, lifted at her hips to give her better access to her weeping pussy. Her hand fondles her breasts, and the other is buried deep in her cunt as she bounces up and down on her fingers. I wouldn’t be able to tell which colour is the fabric if someone held a gun to my head. I’m riveted to the look of pleasure on her face,the way her chest flushes as she tilts her head back with loud moans.

I don’t think she can see me. I’m veiled in the shadow of the night, and she’s illuminated with the glow of the side lamp like a goddess on a stage, but when she lifts her head, our eyes meet. The heat of her gaze burns me to ashes until I’m born a new man. A man who’ll devour her whole because it’smyname on her lips as she finds her pleasure.

Instead of shying away and yelling with distress, her rhythm picks up. Without a thought, I give her a reassuring nod and keep watch as she shatters around her fingers, calling out for me again. It’s faint, coming through the walls of the house, but it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

She collapses, dropping her head in between her shoulders, and it’s my cue to leave. Arousal and the need to come will make you do foolish things. I can’t stay here. She’s going to regret what just happened and I can’t have her quit. She would have every reason to. Tonight has been mistake after mistake on my part. The children need her too much.

Ineed her too much.

And if I don’t leave now, I’m bound to do something I’d regret, like knock her door open to ask her for a repeat performance.

TWENTY-ONE

WHEN IN DOUBT, CALL HIM “DADDY”

Iimagined him.

I didnotjust come in front of my boss.

This isnothappening.

There is a ten per cent chance my imagination conjured him up. Okay, maybe just a two per cent chance.

I groan.

Fuck, I’m so getting fired.

I scramble from my place on the couch to close the curtains, and sure enough, Lino’s just entering his house, the porch light illuminating his dishevelled hair, like he’s run it through his fingers too many times.

I never thought he’d be in the garden at night, never mind close to the place I’ve called my home for the past three months. There isn’t any logical reason for him to be here. Unless he wanted to talk about the workshop. I’ve come to know Lino well over the past few months and he thrives on knowing what to expect. What happened at the workshop is not what he expected.

Before I can think too much about it, I put on a long black knitted cardigan that covers me to the knees over my threadbare pink hand-me-down cotton nightgown and walk to the frontdoor of the main house. I don’t want the children to wake up, so I use my keys and let myself in.

The living room and open kitchen lights are off. I was hoping they wouldn’t be. I tread carefully to the office, but the door is open and once again, no lights are on. The only light comes from upstairs, radiating an orange glow like a beacon. And like a moth to a flame, I follow.

I’ve never been to Lino’s bedroom. The door is always closed and I have no reason to enter. My brain has clearly left the building because, despite all the signals telling me I should be anywhere but near my boss’s bedroom, I push the ajar door open.

Lino’s naked chest greets me as I take him in. He’s… magnificent. Hard muscles dusted with salt and pepper chest hair, a commanding presence with his clear-rimmed glasses sitting on his high nose as he reads a book. His legs disappear under a thin beige sheet.

A floorboard creeks underneath my feet and I have no time to move, to flee. Lino’s head snaps up and his eyes widen but he’s quick to react while I’m frozen in place. He gets up and marches up to me, pyjamas pants that look so soft, hanging low on his hips. He pulls me into the room and closes the door. My back hits the wood with a soft thud.