little on the heels.
His face when I finished was a wonder.
“I’ll call you back,” he said, and ended the call. Cocking his head, he looked me up and down.
“I think it fits okay.” My face felt red.
The heat in his eyes told me how well it fit.
He advanced and I had the wild idea to back away from his predatory look.
My cheeks flushed as he loomed over me, not a hand’s breath between us. Reaching down, he tugged at my outfit, straightening it. Hands at my side, I let him.
“You’re beautiful, Regina. Relax.” His hands held me carefully.
“I feel exposed.”
“It’s just me.” He smiled, and my breath left me in a whoosh. I hadn’t realized I was holding it. He continued turning me this way and that, admiring the black satin over the swell of my breasts and ass. “You should wear this all the time.”
“Are you going to make me?”
“Maybe,” he said, almost thoughtful. “It really does suit you.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
He tweaked my nose. “None of that. Do that again and I’ll make you do chores with a clothespin on your tongue.”
“Is that what I’m going to be doing? Chores?”
“What else?” His eyebrows raised, as if daring me to argue.
I sighed and kept my mouth shut.
He showed me the closet of cleaning supplies. “I have to go into work, but you can get started.” He handed me a duster. “Clean from top to bottom, so you don’t shake dust on what you’ve already—”
“I know how to clean.” I gripped the duster like it was a sword, and imagined stabbing him with it.
He nodded slowly. Then, with a hand on the back of my neck, he bent me over and swatted my bottom. Hard.
I yelped. “What was that for?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Just wanted to see how you look with a red handprint on your butt. And now I know.”
He gathered his things and looked me up and down one more time. I didn’t put up a fuss. A part of me felt I even deserved to be standing in the kitchen of my childhood crush, completely humiliated.
“Get cleaning.”
***
As I dusted, I took the opportunity to poke into Cole’s personal things. Everywhere I looked, I found evidence that Cole was every bit of the fine, upstanding civil servant people believed him to be. The rooms were neat and clean, which made my job easier. Everything had a place from the tools in the mudroom to the neatly folded clothes in his dresser. There were no skeletons in any closet. I checked—twice. Even his garbage can was clean.
I was starting to suspect he wasn’t human.
Giving up on dusting (as if dust dared to mar this perfect man’s home), I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. Exertion had brought color to my cheeks, but I still looked sleek and cool in the white lace and black satin. The fabric was soft to touch and made me ultra aware of my lush, feminine body.
It struck me that, in a twisted way, I was living my own fantasy as well as Cole’s. Under different circumstances, tottering around the smoking hot sheriff’s house dressed as a naughty maid could be the hottest thing I’d ever done.
Wait, it WAS the hottest thing I’d ever done.
My hands roamed over my body faster. I stroked my breasts, admiring their swell under the silky fabric. I turned and lifted the skirt to check out my ass, imagining pulling it up for Cole, showing off…
Now my face was bright with arousal. I sank onto the big bed and touched myself, imagining Cole’s sleek body moving on top of me, the muscles in his shoulders bunching as he planted his arms on either side of my head. His eyes would pierce mine and he’d thrust…
I came in seconds, wet heat running over my hand.
“God,” I gasped. One orgasm barely made a dent in my arousal.
I was hot and horny, and dressed like Cole’s wet dream. He better come home soon, or I’d do something to make sure the sheriff made house calls.
Like set his house on fire.
Stomping through the house, I jabbed the duster into corners blindly. Horny
His face when I finished was a wonder.
“I’ll call you back,” he said, and ended the call. Cocking his head, he looked me up and down.
“I think it fits okay.” My face felt red.
The heat in his eyes told me how well it fit.
He advanced and I had the wild idea to back away from his predatory look.
My cheeks flushed as he loomed over me, not a hand’s breath between us. Reaching down, he tugged at my outfit, straightening it. Hands at my side, I let him.
“You’re beautiful, Regina. Relax.” His hands held me carefully.
“I feel exposed.”
“It’s just me.” He smiled, and my breath left me in a whoosh. I hadn’t realized I was holding it. He continued turning me this way and that, admiring the black satin over the swell of my breasts and ass. “You should wear this all the time.”
“Are you going to make me?”
“Maybe,” he said, almost thoughtful. “It really does suit you.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
He tweaked my nose. “None of that. Do that again and I’ll make you do chores with a clothespin on your tongue.”
“Is that what I’m going to be doing? Chores?”
“What else?” His eyebrows raised, as if daring me to argue.
I sighed and kept my mouth shut.
He showed me the closet of cleaning supplies. “I have to go into work, but you can get started.” He handed me a duster. “Clean from top to bottom, so you don’t shake dust on what you’ve already—”
“I know how to clean.” I gripped the duster like it was a sword, and imagined stabbing him with it.
He nodded slowly. Then, with a hand on the back of my neck, he bent me over and swatted my bottom. Hard.
I yelped. “What was that for?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Just wanted to see how you look with a red handprint on your butt. And now I know.”
He gathered his things and looked me up and down one more time. I didn’t put up a fuss. A part of me felt I even deserved to be standing in the kitchen of my childhood crush, completely humiliated.
“Get cleaning.”
***
As I dusted, I took the opportunity to poke into Cole’s personal things. Everywhere I looked, I found evidence that Cole was every bit of the fine, upstanding civil servant people believed him to be. The rooms were neat and clean, which made my job easier. Everything had a place from the tools in the mudroom to the neatly folded clothes in his dresser. There were no skeletons in any closet. I checked—twice. Even his garbage can was clean.
I was starting to suspect he wasn’t human.
Giving up on dusting (as if dust dared to mar this perfect man’s home), I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. Exertion had brought color to my cheeks, but I still looked sleek and cool in the white lace and black satin. The fabric was soft to touch and made me ultra aware of my lush, feminine body.
It struck me that, in a twisted way, I was living my own fantasy as well as Cole’s. Under different circumstances, tottering around the smoking hot sheriff’s house dressed as a naughty maid could be the hottest thing I’d ever done.
Wait, it WAS the hottest thing I’d ever done.
My hands roamed over my body faster. I stroked my breasts, admiring their swell under the silky fabric. I turned and lifted the skirt to check out my ass, imagining pulling it up for Cole, showing off…
Now my face was bright with arousal. I sank onto the big bed and touched myself, imagining Cole’s sleek body moving on top of me, the muscles in his shoulders bunching as he planted his arms on either side of my head. His eyes would pierce mine and he’d thrust…
I came in seconds, wet heat running over my hand.
“God,” I gasped. One orgasm barely made a dent in my arousal.
I was hot and horny, and dressed like Cole’s wet dream. He better come home soon, or I’d do something to make sure the sheriff made house calls.
Like set his house on fire.
Stomping through the house, I jabbed the duster into corners blindly. Horny
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