When Nicole Braxton agrees to become the live-in maid for John Davies, she believes that fantasies can come true: John is her celebrity crush. John believes that Nicole is the one when he hires her but doesn't know that statement can possibly hold a double meaning once the two get to know each other.
*Contains adult situations, language and sexual content*
When things first happened, had I told anyone, they would’ve passed it off as fanfiction: it was that unbelievable! A lot of times, I refused to believe it, myself.
I was never an important person, maybe to my family but that was it. My life was mundane at best. The only exciting thing that ever happened to me was the decision to move to Persimmon Hills. I lucked up and found a job immediately after moving. Nothing glamorous: it was for a cleaning agency. They were very well known in the city, to the point where nearly everyone who wanted/needed top quality services used them.
How the agency worked was neat, in itself. If you were good, you were requested personally by numerous people. Solo workers of that quality had set schedules, as well as “commission” on top of hourly wages: whoever they worked for, paid them for their time as well. So, it was very beneficial for you to be a damn good worker. Because I was new, I did group jobs like cleaning out vacation homes before and after occupancy. I had no complaints because it was actually easy work: chores were divvied out, instead of one person cleaning an entire house.
Only time you were ever at headquarters was if there was an employee meeting, and of course when you’re going through your interviews and all that. The meetings happened maybe once a month and were hardly important for the most part but they were paid meetings: if they wanted to pay me to sleep, I had no problems with it!
It was the only reason why I was there and after the meeting, I decided to take a look at my physical schedule. It was also on their website but we usually knew ahead of time, especially the group jobs. It didn’t hurt to remind yourself though, and I made my way to the bulletin board.
What I saw across from my name puzzled the shit out of me but I was glad I decided to double check. The entire work week, I had solo jobs but it wasn’t the solo bit that got to me: the question mark in the slots where work hours usually were did. I needed an adult!
I scanned the area, to see if I could pinpoint any supervisor to discuss this with. I knew if I couldn’t find one, I could always try my luck at my own supervisor’s office but everyone was trying to head home. One woman caught my attention: I couldn’t remember her name to save my life but I was always good at faces. She had been with the company for quite some time and would know what my mess of a schedule meant.
When I stopped her, and showed the piece of paper, her eyes widened and beamed as she let out a small whistle. “How long you’ve been here?”
“A few months?”
“You lucky dog!”
“I don’t understand…”
“It’s not rare that someone who’s been here that long would get solo jobs. But, this–” she gave me the paper back. “–This usually means you’re cleaning a celebrity’s house. I’ve only seen it a few times, though and never on my schedule!”
“Oh. So, why the question marks?”
“That’s the main giveaway it’s a celebrity’s home, or at the very least a large house. They don’t know how long it will take you to clean. So, depending on the size of the home, it’ll be tedious. But the pay?”
“Commission.” I couldn’t help but to nod at the thought.
“Congratulations, honey! I don’t know what you’ve done but you impressed ‘em enough to give you this assignment.”
I’d been at the agency for only six months. And in that small time, they felt I was ready enough for that big of an assignment? I had no idea what I done, either, to be rewarded like so. But, I wasn’t going to question it as I went on the website for more details. I put the address in my phone with a reminder and tried my damnedest not to think about it.
The morning of my solo job made me a nervous wreck. I was proud of myself that I refrained from looking the address up on Google beforehand: I wanted to be pleasantly surprised at who lived there. My mind wondered: would it actually be a celebrity… one that I knew? I still knew next to nothing about Persimmon Hills so I automatically assumed that if you were deemed a celebrity there, you were a sports one: the area was very well known for its professional sports teams, the only thing I knew for sure!
I parked in the driveway of the surprisingly moderate home before seven and downed the rest of my coffee. Unlike the group jobs, with solo, you had to meet your employer face-to-face. I refreshed my breath before getting out and continued to study the house. No celebrity lived here. Perhaps some high level corporate person who was either too lazy to clean or too busy to do so. I was more than likely to be greeted by their PA or spouse. A bit let down, I knocked on the door and waited. I suppose it was a good thing: I was no longer nervous about this job.
My hopes dashed through my veins: I wasn’t expecting to see who I saw when the door opened. I stopped myself from gawking at none other than John Davies but his small laugh told me I failed to cover it up.
“I suppose you weren’t expecting to see me, correct?” he’d been in America far too long: his British accent was faint. I laughed nervously along with him as I shook my head.
“I’m sorry but no. To protect clients, the agency only gives us the address and the hours.” I couldn’t help matching his smile as he let me in: it was that warm and inviting. Speaking of warm and inviting: I couldn’t help but look over the inside of his home. I wasn’t an art or decor expert but his home was indeed warm, inviting and modern. All I really knew was that things matched and said things looked expensive.
“Oh? Did n… huh.”
“Is there a problem?” as much as I liked looking around, I could tell by his tone there was.
“No one told you this was a live-in position?”
“I’m sorry, what now…?” I quickly turned from my visual tour and eyed him. John sighed but his dark brown eyes carried his amusement at my reaction.
“Damnit: I specifically asked for that.”
“Without even knowing who you hired? Wouldn’t it be better to have a trial run before making that big of a decision anyway, Mr. Da…”
“Oh, please don’t call me ‘mister’: that’s my father,” he gave me the most gorgeous smile I’d ever seen and I felt a burn at my cheeks as I tried not to melt. “I trust your agency to provide only the best. It’s what you’re known for. I’ve seen the reviews and you were recommended.”
“No, the company overall.” he answered. Yeah, how pretentious of me. I was about to ask why he would want or need a live-in maid but then I remembered his schedule. John was still shooting scenes for that one popular series which was shot on location in New York and, in between time, would do some shows on Broadway.
The real question should’ve been why did he live in Persimmon Hills and not New York?
“Ah. Um… maybe I should call the agency to sort this thing out.” Not that I hated the live-in part but it was odd I knew nothing about that part!
“Only if you’d like. I’m curious: how long did they schedule you to be here?” it made me think back to the question marks. They finally made sense now… although the sensible thing would’ve been to just write that it was a live-in position.
“It didn’t say. I just assumed that it was just a really large house and that we would discuss the terms… now.”
“I see. I suppose that’s what we’re doing. If it makes you feel better, you don’t have to move in tonight but since you’re here, I don’t see the harm in you working right now.”
“Oh, that was definitely the plan: I wasn’t trying to skimp out of work!” it thrilled me that he laughed along with me.
The agency goofed big time, I found out after calling them. I knew there were those with solo jobs but I had never heard of a live-in position… until then. They happened but I was supposed to have known in advance before being assigned. While they still wouldn’t say why I was picked instead of someone more experienced, we negotiated my wages to compensate for the misunderstanding (once someone takes on a live-in position, they’re taken off the agency’s payroll. I wouldn’t be).
John was truly understanding about the situation. He feared that I would say no and he would have to go through the process all over again: he told me that he’d waited for nearly two weeks before hearing they would send someone. He felt bad about me not knowing and paid the fee for breaking my lease and I was promptly moved in. I didn’t have much to begin with so the move was fairly quick and easy.
I suppose I should stop here and do a bit of background info. I was a fan of John’s after I saw that he was casted as my favorite fictional character on TV. The show itself was absolute shit but I steadily watched just to get a glimpse of his portrayal of the character. Which I had to admit was the best one out there!
He grew on me and I knew it was because he played the character very well. He wasn’t a bad-looking man but if I was being honest with myself, appearance-wise, he wasn’t my type. I wasn’t a huge fan of dark chocolate skin but he wore it well: meaning, I had zero problems with the color of his skin! He had other attributes that I eventually found irresistible. He looked as though he was in shape, was taller than I expected and did I mention his smile? It could warm up an Eskimo!
I may or may not had developed a crush on the man over the years…
The deal worked out well for the both of us, when I thought about it. I had free room and board, and all I had to do was keep the place clean, do laundry and cook. It was just him and his house wasn’t ginormous so it wasn’t hard at all. I learned what he liked to eat and cooked it. I was glad that he was just as particular about things as I was and thrilled that he loved the way I folded his clothes and how I arranged the dishes! I didn’t want to call it OCD, because saying it would mean that I was OCD as well. Regardless, things were working out just fine.
John’s schedule started out a bit hectic so most of the times, I found myself alone in the house or if he was there, I saw very little of him. Well, in person, anyway: I made sure not to miss an episode of the show and I also followed him on Twitter and Instagram religiously. It was another thing that I found so admirable about him: we shared the same political and personal opinions. It aided in the two of us talking more. I was a bit awkward the first time he tried to strike regular conversation with me but remembered about his take on a lot of things I had a high opinion on. Our conversations became easier as the time passed and we became somewhat actual friends.
Before I could blink, I had lived in Persimmon Hills for a little over a year and had been working as John’s maid for six months. It saddened him that he was my only true friend and he encouraged me to get out and have fun. Meet new people, he said. Because I did have associates within the cleaning agency, I took it as: “try to find a boyfriend” but it didn’t matter. I had always been socially awkward so the night ended not the way I expected or wanted it to. Many a night, I would come back home with a slight frown: if John was there, the two of us would talk about it throughout the night. I enjoyed those nights and I found it delightful he never had “company” around. It made me wonder if he was as single as myself.
I was washing the dishes after our small dinner, something I whipped up because it was my birthday. John hadn’t said a word about it and I was fine with that: you’d have to have known that it was my birthday in order for you to remember! But, he was beside me, drying and putting up the dishes.
I gave him a surprised look: it was the first time he’d ever helped me. “Oh… you don’t have to do all that.”
“It’s your birthday, love.” He shrugged and a bit of that lovely accent came out, making my toes curl a bit. “I was against you cooking today but I don’t know: you looked as though you didn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it so… I didn’t, against my instincts.”
I stopped washing and looked at him. “W-Wait… how’d you know?”
“For one, you don’t hide much online.”
“You looked me up…?”
“I had to. I was inviting a total stranger to live in my home: why wouldn’t I do some research on said person? I get that the agency is top-notch but I still felt more comfortable doing a background check, myself.” He explained. It made a hell of a lot of sense, really. I could’ve been some con artist, a shitty employee with the agency, waiting on my “big break” and robbed him blind.
“Oh…” I nodded and because I didn’t have much else to say, I went back to washing. John gave out a small and quick chuckle before abandoning his drying duties. I said nothing as he left the kitchen, leaving me to my thoughts. I wanted to smack myself: why didn’t I tell him thank you for acknowledging my birthday? Now, he probably thought I was some rude and cold bitch.
I panicked more as I thought about what he said. He did a background check on me. Not that I had anything to hide because he was right: I poured my heart and soul online. I had never been in too much trouble, at least none that would get me jailed or prevented me from getting any type of job. It was the fact that he probably knew I followed him on two social media sites and got a glimpse at how much of a fangirl I really was.
He probably thought I was a bit of a wacko…
My thoughts were interrupted by John clearing his throat behind me. I turned to see what was wrong… and I wanted to cry. That gorgeous smile was stretched across his face and he had a small cake in his hands. All I could do to keep from crying was gasp.
“Don’t be upset with me for going with my instincts. Now, is it too much for me to say that… you look nowhere near forty?” he smiled as I approached him. How could I be mad at him: he just made my millennia! I was suddenly glad that he took the time to do a check on me: he probably even got my favorite type of cake down right. I glanced at the white cake with purple lettering and flowers: he got my favorite color right!
I cleared my throat to make sure my voice didn’t waver. “You know what they say: black don’t crack.”
“So much truth in that! You age so beautifully, Nicole.” He always knew what to say or do to make my cheeks ache, regardless of if he knew they did or not! The achy feeling grew tenfold with the way he looked at me as he said it. John put the cake down on the table and lit the candles: there was only a “4” and a “0”, thank the gods!
“T-Thank you…” I remembered that he gave me a compliment and simply looked at him, not knowing what else to say or do… although the ideal thing was to just blow out the damn candles. But, nope: idiot mode was in full effect!
“Are you waiting on me to sing to you as well? I can’t promise it will sound pleasant.”
“Wait, w-what? No! I mean, if you wa… I just… um, thank you so much, John…” I was flabbergasted by his idea and he simply laughed as I blew out my two candles.
“You act as though no one celebrates your birthday.”
“Actually… no one does.”
“What? But… this is a huge milestone.”
“I think fifty is the big milestone one. And, well, only my family celebrates it but they’re not here so…”
“Any birthday in increments of ten is a milestone,” he nodded as he handed me a knife to cut my cake. As I did so, John went to his cabinets and fetched a couple of tumblers along with one of his favorite bottles of scotch (I knew this because it was one of the only ones I’d seen him drink). While I placed small slices of cake on plates, he poured small amounts of the alcohol and handed me a glass. I wrinkled my nose at it: I wasn’t a scotch person. Well, I lied: I never had scotch before so I didn’t know, honestly. “Oh. Maybe I should’ve asked if you liked scotch.” He, of course, noticed.
“No, it’s fine. I’ve never had it but it’s my birthday so I’ll at least taste it.”
“Atta girl! Cheers, then.” He lifted his glass and we toasted. I gathered my nerves and took a sip of the stuff and it burned something awful as soon as it hit my tongue. After that though, it surprisingly was smooth as it went down my throat. What was in the glass looked like a normal shot so I downed the rest of it, making a face because of the burn but licked my lips soon afterwards. My face became hot as I noticed the look he gave me when I did so: it was like he enjoyed watching me lick my lips. His eyes narrowed only for a second before they gleamed and they landed on my own eyes.
“A bit strong but I think I could sip on it… slowly.” I told the truth and he let out a laugh.
“As much as I want to lecture you on how to drink a good scotch… let’s find you something you’ll like.”
“I’ll drink to that… literally,” I didn’t mean for it to be a joke but John laughed and it made me happy. “Seriously, I’m not that big on drinking alcohol, anymore. I’ll have a glass of wine, though.”
“Only a glass? It’s your birthday.” He tried as he went to his wine rack. I gave out a chuckle but went to wash the tumbler out. I didn’t have to, I knew this but it gave me an excuse to peek at which wine he would choose. My eyes widened for a moment as he took out a bottle of sweet white that I couldn’t pronounce but really liked: he knew me too well…
“Sounds like you’re trying to get me drunk, sir…”
“Mmm… perhaps,” he surprised me so badly, I nearly dropped the glass! I jerked around to catch his expression and John laughed heartily. “Of course not! This is too easy…”
Although he said the intention wasn’t to get me drunk, we stayed up and drank! It didn’t go unnoticed that John made sure I had a full glass, regardless of my initial stance of having only one. I didn’t mind it, to be honest: we were having a good time, talking about random things. If I thought it was too much, I would’ve stopped him three glasses ago but I was too tipsy at the moment to blame anyone.
“John, can I ask you something?” I was glad I wasn’t at the point of slurring. A miracle, after I saw that the bottle was empty as he poured me another glass. I felt bad: he’d stuck to his scotch so that meant I cleared the bottle by myself.
“Anything.” He got up to throw the bottle away but I saw he grabbed another one, uncorking it.
“I never see you bring a girlfriend here. Why’s that?” I didn’t want to say that it bothered me but I was highly curious about the situation. When he sat, there was a surprised look on his face. “Oh. Um… boyfriend, then? I mean, whatever you’re into. I swear, I won’t judge.” The idea oddly put a tug on my heart. Why was it that I was okay with him having a girlfriend but a boyfriend? That meant there was no way in hell he’d ever be attracted to me.
Not that it mattered: it was a pipe dream for him to gain feelings for me. Nobodies didn’t get their fantasy fulfilled.
I didn’t know how to feel as he gave out a deep laugh. “I’m straight, to answer your last question first. And, there’s no girlfriend to bring here. Dating is kind of hard for me to do right now.”
“Oh, that’s right. Your schedule.”
“Exactly. But even if it wasn’t that: not too many women find me attractive.” He shrugged. I sucked my teeth and took a sip of wine, telling myself that it would be my last glass.
“Weird…” I let slip out. I didn’t notice the blunder until I saw the look he gave me. Oh… damn my loose lips when drinking! I bit them in embarrassment and tried to think of a cover up but my mind was stuck.
“Wait. Do you… you think I’m attractive?”
“I… um… well… yes…” now my brain wanted to make words come out my mouth and the alcohol made sure that it was the truth! I couldn’t look at him after my confession as I felt flushed from embarrassment. Had I been sober, there was no way I would’ve said anything!
“Really?” he was shocked and it was the only reason why our eyes met. A blush appeared on his cheeks and it warmed my entire being. I made John blush!
“What’s so attractive about me?”
“You… you really want me to answer that?”
“Smart ass…” I thought I mumbled but it tickled him. Seeing him laugh relaxed me enough to be honest with his question. “Your smile, for starters. The way you carry yourself: you’re so confident in everything you do.”
“My smile? You like my smile?”
“I love your smile…” oh, what the fuck, mouth? I could feel the blush taking over my face and I set my glass down on the table: yep, no more of you, tonight!
“Thank you. No one’s ever said that about me. I think you’re gorgeous as well, and that puzzles me as to why you’re the one dateless. On your birthday, even.”
“Don’t start. I tried but I told you I’m awkward.”
“You’re not awkward around me. Well, not anymore: thank God you grew out of that!” he smirked and I laughed.
“Shut up! You know it’s different with you.” I shrugged and grabbed my glass once more. Wait…
My tipsy mind backtracked to what he said beforehand. Holy fuck: he said I was gorgeous! We both just confessed we found each other attractive. In someone’s fanfiction, the next move would’ve been for our lips to “crash together in a heat of passion” or some shit. Instead, we sat and looked at one another. At least, I looked at him: John’s eyes moved slightly to my lips. The whole ordeal made me tingle as I did the same.
Would it hurt to have a small kiss? I was the birthday girl. All we had to do was scoot a tad bit closer and bam: lip-locking. I wasn’t the greatest of kissers but I knew that his lips would feel fantastic against mine. And because we were both full of alcohol, that kiss would lead to a heavy make out session to his or my bedroom (I personally preferred sex but knowing my brain, I would stop it before things got that far).
But, of course, nothing happened. As soon as I looked at his luscious lips, his eyes jumped back to mine and he scooted away from me: damnit! It was subtle but seeing that I was already naked with my legs wrapped around his waist in my mind, I noticed it. I cleared my throat and downed the rest of my wine.
“No more! I need to be able to walk to my room… and function in the morning.”
“Nonsense. You have a day off tomorrow.”
“Wait… I do?”
“Of course. Let’s just call this your birthday week. And dinner’s on me tomorrow night.”
“No buts. It doesn’t feel right for you to work and not celebrate or relax for your birthday. We’ll even do a little shopping tomorrow, my treat as well.” He lifted his glass and finished his scotch. I blushed from head to toe and kept my mouth shut: he sounded as though he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
If that lovely man wanted to treat me for my birthday, who was I to argue?
Our friendship blossomed in record time for my standards. At the end of the week, John and I acted more like roommates than anything else. I also learned that when he said he would do something, it was done. I had to sneak to clean: if he caught me doing any of my usual chores, I was shooed away and blessed with that faint accent that came out when he was frustrated with my tactics. Part of me wanted to get caught just to hear that tone.
The week ended with a party that John didn’t bother to keep secret. He found it unbelievable that I had no friends and it was technically the truth. The little people that I did talk to, worked at the agency with me. There were only a couple of people who I texted but not so much as to consider them good friends. I knew them and we hung out at bars or clubs whenever we all had the same shift. Only one of them texted me randomly on a regular basis but I always assumed that it was because he was a very chatty and friendly type.
It was mostly people John knew who attended but I was surprised at the small number of people from the agency who showed. Regardless, I could tell that John felt accomplished: I met quite a few people at the party and it appeared that they had no problems chatting me up. Nothing promising like a date but I had fun talking to people. However, there was one constant on my mind and it was enough to try to distract me: John.
The few times I snuck glances at him, he was watching me. And, not in the sense as to make sure I behaved or something but it was more like… admiration. I’d been drinking and didn’t trust my instincts but there was someone there that could set my mind straight. I quietly pulled chatty and friendly Tyler deeper into the kitchen out of earshot of anyone.
“If you’re trying to sneak kisses, you’re barking up the wrong tree…”
“Shut up! I need your expert advice…” to make it seem genuine, I grabbed some ice and made the two of us a small drink. Tyler was my frequently random texter, as close to a club buddy as I could get and had a lot of advice when it came to dating men… seeing that he was always fucking a different one. “You’ve been watching John tonight?”
“You mean, that tall drink of water that’s been eyeing you all night?”
“Great… that answers my question…” I sighed and took a sip. “Okay, what do you think? Translate his looks.”
“Yes! Ty, I’ve been drinking and I can’t really tell if it’s-”
“Honey, he wants to do one thing and one thing only: put his head between your legs!”
“Which one?” I smirked and he laughed.
“Flip a coin and go at it! That man has been undressing you since I walked in this house. With you asking, does that mean… you haven’t jumped his bones, yet?”
“W-What? No! He’s never… said anything…”
“The looks say it all: he doesn’t have to say a damn thing!”
“So… what should I do?”
“What you need to do is spread your legs and let him in!” his hazel eyes widened and I damn near roared with laughter.
“No! He’s my boss.”
“I don’t think he gives a rat’s ass, Nicky. And you honestly don’t, either.”
“If you actually cared about him being your boss, you wouldn’t have asked what you needed to do. You would’ve texted me: boss flirting with me but no.”
“And then you would’ve texted back: if he’s gay, give him my number.”
“See? You know me so well…” he said and we laughed once more. To be honest, I didn’t but it was logical deduction on my part. “If it makes you feel better, do the whole clichéd talk about your feelings thing with him.”
“I guess.” I sighed and took another swig. I damn near choked as John walked into the kitchen. His smile was magnetic as once again, his eyes glanced down at my lips for a second before fully looking at me.
“Was wondering where you ran off to. Everything fine?”
“O-Oh… yeah. Just catching up with Tyler.”
“Ah. I had hoped that my friends didn’t run you away.”
“What? Oh, no. Your friends are great!”
“Good to know. Stephen was asking about you: I’ll let him know he didn’t scare you away.”
“Is that the one with the eyes and the dark hair?” Tyler spoke up. I had never been embarrassed about him being blatantly gay… until then. But, John took it in stride and nodded.
“The very one.”
“Darling Nicky, if you don’t want him, I’ll gladly take him off your hands!”
“Oh, my God…”
“Heh. I like that song…” there was something about the look John gave me that made me melt right on the spot. He followed with a warm smile as he left the kitchen and I was permanently stuck.
“Oh, he wants to fuck you bad… and hard.”
“So, it’s not just me and my overactive imagination. Oh, God…”
“Giving me a preview of later tonight…?”
I had two main personalities when it came to attractive men: Nicky and Nicole. Nicky’s approach to an attractive man flirting with her all narrowed down to if she was drunk or not (nine times out of ten, she was drunk, though). Because it was a rare instance any remotely handsome man would flirt with her, she needed liquid courage to flirt back. She was a terrible flirt as it was but being drunk gave her that “fuck it” mentality. I wanted to blame that for the majority of my one night stands…
Then, there was Nicole, who’d had her heart broken a few times and decided to not engage in romantic feelings. She didn’t turn her nose at them. No: this older and wiser Nicole reverted back to her fourteen-year-old awkward and bullied self. Her resolution to an attractive man flirting with her was to shy away, because there was always an ulterior motive behind it and she’d been embarrassed far too many times by it.
Although I was forty and we were both grown, I reverted to that persona instead of being an actual adult and talk to John about what was growing between the two of us. Because there was no doubt something developed after my birthday but I had no clue what triggered it. That was the scariest part for me. Maybe it was because I opened up more and we were definitely friends but love didn’t play by certain rules. Or did it? Was it because he saw I became more comfortable with him that he let those feelings loose? I didn’t know…
I tried to throw myself into my work around the house to ignore the elephant in the room. I mean, it was a cute baby elephant but it needed to be addressed instead of me watching it with heart eyes. Said elephant made me wonder why none of the tabloids said a thing when we were out and about, something that happened more often after my birthday. We weren’t hugged up on each other but I spent less time cooped up in the house and more out on the town… with him. I was relieved but annoyed all the same about the lack of attention the media gave this. The last thing John needed was for someone to accuse him of sleeping with his maid but then it spoke volumes on everyone’s opinion about how important I was.
The only thing exciting was the fact that me and John were getting closer to one another. Neither one of us sat the other down to talk about the definite attraction between us but I took notice of the particular looks. It was about to make me a nervous wreck and I knew I needed to clear the air sooner than later.
In the meanwhile, I continued my job. I was cleaning the house while he was in New York, again: I had plans on decorating for the holidays. I couldn’t wait for John to return home so I could run some ideas by him and hoped that he celebrated the holidays. It was the one thing I missed doing with my family: decorating the house, wrapping presents and cooking dinners.
I was in the master bathroom (which always blew my mind, no matter how many times I went there) and checked to see what he had in his medicine cabinet for once. I was doing a major cleaning overhaul, especially after I saw quite a few things in the other medicine cabinets that needed tossing.
There wasn’t anything odd with the contents except the pill bottle in the middle. It wasn’t supposed to be odd but it made my heartbeat quicken and I took note of that feeling. Because I was as curious as a cat, I read the bottle and furrowed my brow at it. I had never heard of the medicine and was glad I had my phone on me. I went to Google to look it up and stood there in shock for quite some time.
Paroxetine- used to treat depression and anxiety disorders.
My mind went into overdrive, trying hard to think of everything. John was depressed…? I picked the bottle up and looked at the date: it was filled recently. It made no sense. I lived with the man: wouldn’t I have known if he was depressed?
No… I wouldn’t. I had never met anyone who suffered through depression but I remembered reading that at times, it was a well-hidden disorder. Not everyone would go around, moping. Tears formed in my eyes as I slowly closed the medicine cabinet: he hid his very well. My heart went out to my John.
My John…? Yes, he was mine… and I was going to do all I could to protect him.
I couldn’t tell him what I found: more research showed that most people who dealt with depression didn’t want it brought up. I became more aware of his actions, though and hoped that it didn’t become too obvious. Not that John was some delicate, fragile thing and I wanted to baby him: I always watched him in silence and secrecy. Things hadn’t changed a bit in his behavior, which relieved me but made me even more curious about his condition. For the most part, I didn’t want to think about it because of his outgoing behavior.
A relief when John wrapped up another season to the show and lessened his workload for the incoming holidays. I was nearly ecstatic to have him home more often but then I was afraid that we’d run out of things to do or talk about. It wasn’t the case at all. In fact, John being home more deepened our friendship further. If only I could stop him from talking about why I didn’t pursue things with Stephan!
As I finished the laundry, I went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. It was oddly warm but I took advantage of the global warming and had the windows open. I looked around for John, to ask if he was in the mood for tacos and burritos but he was nowhere to be found. Did he leave while I was doing laundry?
My search ended outside in the backyard and I watched as he did laps in the pool. He wasn’t the most graceful at doing so but he wasn’t awkward. John was more of a speed swimmer than anything as he pushed himself through the laps. After a few, he finally noticed me and swam to the edge, which made me inch closer.
“Hey…” he breathed and I tried my damnedest to get a better look at his body. “Bad form, right?”
“I’m not an expert in swimming techniques so… not bad?” I smirked and he laughed.
“Help me out? Suppose I’m done for the day.” He held his hand out and I pursed my lips.
“Nice try! You’re gonna pull me in. I can’t swim, John.”
“What? No, seriously: I need a little pull. I’m exhausted… and lazy.” Because he knew I was about to suggest he go to the ladder a few feet away instead! I thought about my reward for helping him out the pool: a full look at his wet body. Didn’t have to convince me any further: I sighed deeply and held my hand out for him to grab.
I didn’t have time to think, let alone breathe as the cold water enveloped me. I didn’t go fully underneath and that should’ve been a good sign but the fact that I was pulled into the pool made me panic. No: my feet not touching the bottom did it for me. I struggled to do… something, I didn’t know exactly. My mind was in full panic mode, not realizing that John was trying to calm me down. As soon as I felt even a fingertip on me, my legs tightly entangled with his.
“Nicole. Nicole, wait: you’re going to drown both of us and I’m standing! Calm down, love. I got you,” It took me longer than usual to realize that our bodies were flushed together. “Look: I’m literally standing.” He half-whispered. I took notice that the water stopped at his chest… which meant it would be above my head.
“J-John… I can’t… swim…”
“You don’t have to, just… stand.”
“I’m not tall! I’ll go under!”
“It’s okay. I got you. I’m right here.” He meant well, he was trying his best to soothe me but the only thing on my mind was that my feet weren’t touching the bottom and I didn’t know how to do anything. I was so glad he noticed that I was close to hyperventilating and he helped me to the edge of the pool. I scrambled out as best as I could and sat at the edge, shivering from my ordeal. “I’m… I’m so sorry. You’ve drowned before…” he realized and the horrible memory came back tenfold.
It was supposed to be a prank or just the older kids being mean: I never found out which one. It also played a part in my issues with being around people but I was at our apartment complex’s pool. I was maybe twelve or thirteen, away from my parents’ watchful eyes and my interest in boys started. One in particular had shown a great deal of interest in me that day and I was in heaven as we talked.
What I didn’t know was that it was part of some initiation of the new kids in the apartments, which I was one of. Before I knew it, he was carrying me and I was thrown into the deep end of the pool. No one knew I had no idea on how to swim but I panicked and took in water. It was painful for a while and then… nothing. When I came to, I was surrounded by paramedics: the boy long gone. The only thing I got out of it was a deathly fear of deep water and the fact that I may had suffered slight brain damage.
I silently nodded at his realization and he was beside me in a heartbeat. John wrapped me into his wet arms and I didn’t know whether to push him away or lean into him.
“Nicole, I wasn’t going to let you drown. I was right there with you. I’m so sorry… I didn’t know. I just thought… please don’t be upset with me.” he hugged me tighter. To be honest, it made me feel much better: the only comfort I got from my ordeal long ago was from my parents. I didn’t go near that pool or any of the other neighborhood kids for that matter.
In a way, I was getting my apology from long ago. I knew he wasn’t the kid who almost killed me but John was showing remorse and it made me feel much better.
We walked into the house in silence and once I was warm, I began to relish in being held by him. I nearly pouted when he let me go and there was a mention of me getting dry. I went into my bathroom and took a quick shower before coming back into the living room. I heard John in the kitchen and followed the noise, surprised that he was prepping the food. He actually stared at me and there was a sense of warmth in his eyes.
“You don’t have to cook.”
“I want to. I traumatized you and I didn’t mean to.”
“John, stop. I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” he asked and I could do nothing but nod. I wasn’t a hundred percent but I was warm and safe. “I’m still cooking.”
“Fine. If you can cook, why am I here?” I gave him a small smirk and he laughed.
“I think it’s more for company and comfort, now.” He admitted as he started to brown the meat. Wait… what?
I gawked at him for a moment before picking my jaw off the ground and going into the fridge. I took out all the things needed for “Mexican Night” and set them aside.
“Do I get paid more for company and comfort?”
“You silly bird…” he chuckled and because he laughed, I took it as funny and not offensive: I couldn’t remember if it was or not.
I watched John as he cooked and noticed that he was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. I cussed myself out for being in such a panicky mood, I didn’t take the time to ogle him shirtless.
“So… why were you out there doing laps? Exercise?”
“You… can say that.”
“Oh. Clearing your head.”
“Yes, in a way. It’s said that it helps with… mental illnesses.” I almost didn’t catch on that he admitted it. The confession made me stare at him, wondering what I should say. Everything that popped into my head was so stereotypical, I felt that the best option was to say nothing.
John looked and studied my facial expression. “I know. ‘But, you don’t look sick’.”
“I… I wasn’t going to…”
“It’s fine. Most people don’t know what to say. I’m actually… glad for your silence.”
“Can I ask you… how long you’ve been dealing with it?”
“Damn near all my life? It’s much better now, since people are more aware and science and all. Back then, they just stuck you in some mental hospital and-”
“Back then? Like you’d remember…” I let out a small laugh but John gave me a look.
“Nicole… how old do you think I am?”
“Um… my age?” it never dawned on me I didn’t know exactly how old he was until that moment. Judging from his expression, I had a feeling he was about to blow my mind.
John let out a quick laugh along with a shake of his head. “I’m fifty-two, darling Nicky.” While I absolutely loved his nickname for me, it felt like my face dropped to the floor! His laugh erupted. “And here I am, cursing every wrinkle and gray hair I see! Thank you for the compliment, love: I really needed it. You seriously thought I was forty?”
“Fuck: forty-two, tops! And you said I age beautifully!” although we’d become comfortable saying things like that out loud to one another, I blushed all the same along with him.
John told me the story of how he was diagnosed as he made the food and we ate. His family didn’t understand clinical depression back then, along with most of the world. So, the thing to do was to have said person committed. John said it was scary because he was with people who had it far worse than what he went through. But it was in the hospital where he discovered his love for acting, which played a major part of him being released.
He battled with the illness on and off until more research was done to benefit those with mental illnesses. Now, he was on medication that worked for the most part, along with natural techniques: exercise being one of them. John assured me that things were up for him but there were some rare occasions where he felt the depression trying to sneak in. He at least recognized the signs and took precautions, like swimming.
I promised not to treat him any differently but I also stressed that I would always lend an ear or a shoulder if he ever needed it. To make him feel even better, I asked him to teach me how to swim. He promised to do so once the weather became better.
I expected snow for the holidays and not rain. The storm guaranteed a day in for us as the rain and wind pelted the windows all day. After dinner found us in our usual spot: on the sofa, watching movies. The weather made it horrible for the satellite signal and I was glad for John’s love of DVDs.
One thing I noticed was how many times he’d gotten up to refill his glass of scotch. I started to pay more attention to his behavior than the movie: he didn’t act drunk and was simply… mellow. It was the first time I’d seen him drink so much and now with the knowledge of his meds, I kept a careful eye on him.
John sat down beside me with another refill, perhaps a shot and a half in the glass. “Mmm… something about torrential rains that makes my scotch stash diminish.” He noted as he stared at his glass, not a slurred word in sight.
“Don’t make me cut you off…”
“I can hold my liquor, thank you, ma’am.”
“You know, most people like to make love when it rains like this. But you? You like to drink.”
“Hmm: I like to do both, actually.” He smirked and gave me a sly look that made me laugh because the other option was to blush. Instead of retaliating with a smart-ass comment about him needing to be spanked, I put my attention back to the movie. It was better to pay attention to the movie rather than become hot and bothered by the images of him spanking me!
The movie was nearing its end and I was about to suggest another one as well as me catching up to his drinking until I felt his fingers suddenly trailing down my arm. The move was slow and light so it took me a moment to realize what he was doing: I honestly could’ve excused it as him brushing against me. When the feeling continued, it made me look at him. John’s eyes were trained on his own fingers and it sent goosebumps to my skin: there was a definite meaning behind this.
I panicked as his fingers made their way down to my hand, my heart racing. I gasped at the spark of him entwining his fingers with my own and he looked at me. His dark eyes were filled with want as he licked his lips and looked at mine… fully and with intent. My entire body tingled with anticipation but then panic set in as John leaned towards me. I backed away and jumped up from my seat.
“I, uh, I… w-wine. I n-need some wine…”
“Nicky…” he tried but I was already in the kitchen, looking for a wine glass. I trembled, thinking how wonderful his fingers felt against my skin. He’d touched me before but never like that. My face was heated at my reaction: all that time, I told myself that all I wanted was for John to touch me in that way. But, what did I do in real life? Panic.
It was Nicky’s turn to make her appearance but in order for that to happen, she needed wine and lots of it. As I went to the wine rack, I shuddered as I felt a presence behind me. I was so much into berating my actions, I didn’t see him get up. Before I could do anything, John’s body was lightly pressed against mine and I could… oh, my God, he was on hard. The move made Nicky inch out and she longed for his hands on her hips but Nicole reduced me to a trembling bunch of nerves, unable to breathe properly.
John caressed my shoulders. “Please don’t run away…” my knees buckled as he breathed out. I didn’t want to, I really didn’t. We should’ve been on the couch, feverously making out but nooo. The sensible part of me had to panic! Wait… why did I panic, again…?
I let out a surprised moan as I felt those full lips press into that area where the neck met the shoulder (I knew there was a technical term for it but my anatomy lessons failed me at the moment). I quickly bit my lip to hold in any other stupid moan but John smiled against my neck as he placed his hands on my hips. As he moaned and kissed slowly up to my ear lobe, I forced my body to still. I finally figured out why I panicked.
“J-J-J-John… you’re drunk.”
“Only a little.”
“S-Stop. It’s the only reason why you’re doing this.” The realization hit me hard and it made me want to cry. He wasn’t seducing me because he wanted to: he was seducing me because he was drunk.
At least he stopped when I asked him to, I gave him that. “No. It’s not the reason I’m doing this. I’m just… I’m tired of hiding my feelings for you.”
“John…” he surprised the shit out of me. His body language changed as I remained still.
“I’m only a little out of it but it doesn’t change the fact that I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first time you stepped foot in my home. Are you saying that you don’t feel the same?” he asked and I had to swallow to quench my dry throat. I was dreaming. Or maybe I had already been drinking and was drunk to the point of hallucinating. Either way, saying I didn’t feel the same as he did would be a lie. I at least wanted him, particularly feeling that part of his body still pinned against mine. Although we were both still, I couldn’t help but to admit that Tyler was right: John wanted to fuck me… and the feeling was definitely mutual.
“N-No. I… I do.” I couldn’t think of any “buts” to follow up with aside from the fact he’d been drinking. We were both too old to believe in that “moving too fast” crap.
“Mmm… good…” he moaned and placed his lips underneath my earlobe. I whimpered as his hand moved to the back of my head, running his fingers upward from my nape and into a few dreadlocks. John lightly gripped a few, making me tilt my head as he pulled back and kissed along the exposed skin.
I finally loosened up and leaned into his advances, a curse escaping my lips as he nibbled at my hot spots. I knew he could feel my pulse drum away between his teeth but I arched my bottom more into the erection that strained in his pants, urging him to do more. He took the hint well as his other hand eased into my leggings and played at the elastic top of my panties.
“There’s two things I like to do when it rains like this: drink, and make love… and I’m done drinking.” It was such a turn on to hear more of that accent of his. We both gasped as his hand found its rightful spot, his finger rubbing at my dampening sex.
Instincts kicked in and I grinded against that finger in hopes of him getting the hint. John continued to kiss and nip on my neck but his finger stilled. “Is this too much for you? I can stop if you want me to…” he left the statement in the air. I didn’t mind that we went from zero to a hundred in record time: I welcomed it. I wanted to beg him to finger me but honestly? I really wanted nothing more than to be already naked in his bed, with him buried deep inside me!
“N-No… keep going… please…” I breathed out and John chuckled against my neck. He removed his hand and I pouted but he turned me around. Our eye contact was electric but it was cut short as he immediately kissed me. I breathed in his essence, the only way I could describe it was all man and remnants of scotch: it gave me such a head rush.
We both moaned as the kiss deepened, with John pressing me harder into him and his hands roaming everywhere. This was what I wanted and I became lightheaded. The sex was inevitable and I couldn’t wait!
John’s hands landed a tad below my bottom and it left me confused until I felt myself lifted and put on the counter in one smooth move. I gasped only because of the realization of how strong he was: I was no way a lightweight! We continued the kiss and I relished the fact that he was now between my legs, growing harder. His hands went beneath my shirt and John kneaded any flesh he could grab. It had been so long since anyone touched me like that, the feeling made me moan and want him all the more. I just wasn’t too keen on having him on the kitchen counter.
I stopped the kiss and looked at him, a smirk playing on my lips because we were both out of breath.
“What’s wrong? I am moving too fast, aren’t I?”
“N-No. I want to go to the bedroom instead of… here.” I breathed out and he laughed.
“Good point because what I want to do to you… not enough room here or on the sofa.” He rushed and kissed me once more. Well, hot damn!
I grew more comfortable kissing him this go around and tried to match the movements of his tongue as I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer. I loved that the response was an immediate throb felt between my legs: I needed to feel that inside me.
John wrapped my legs around his waist and I was lifted once more. I didn’t expect for him to carry me and I panicked because, again: I was nowhere near a skinny bitch. The total opposite of one, and I worried that he would drop me or struggle. But, he proved that he was way stronger than I thought and held me just fine as we made our way to… well, I had no idea whose bedroom: we were still heavily wrapped in our kiss! All I knew was that I was placed on a bed and the kiss broke once more. It honestly didn’t matter whose room we were in, so long as we made a mess of the bed!
He looked at me in such a loving way, I melted. “Last chance to back out of this…” did he actually think I was going to say no, with that look he gave me…? I bit my lip as I looked at him.
“Why are we still dressed?”
“Don’t have to ask me twice…” he rushed and began to undress. I really wished I was under the influence: I hated my body but being drunk gave me no time to be self-conscious about anything. My distraction was his own body, though. John wasn’t super muscular but it showed he exercised. For someone in his fifties, he didn’t have much flab.
John removed his pants and I simply stared at the erection that proudly stood at attention. Oh, Mother Mary of God: how?! It was impressive yet intimidating all the same: I didn’t know whether to jump on it or run away! John’s chuckling took me out of my trance and I blushed hard as I slowly began to take my shirt off.
He leaned over and helped strip me down to my panties, his fingers trembling as much as mine. John stopped to admire my body and I wanted to cover up.
“Don’t…” he moved my hands out the way and slowly peeled off those panties. I whimpered for more reasons than one: his touch was so delicate, it sent shivers throughout my body, and the way he looked at between my legs. “Bloody hell…” that phrase made me pause and I was about to close my legs until he grabbed my thighs and buried his head between them.
I yelped at the sudden invasion of tongue but then clenched at the sheets as it traced over the contours of my clit. The very idea that he just dove right in was enough to send me over the edge, alone. But, now, as he moaned and tongued at my sex, it made me move along with him, my climax building more by the second. It had been far too long and my core shook from me trying to hold it in.
But, it was like he knew. John quickened his pace as I threw my head back on the pillow. “J-J-John…” I couldn’t finish the sentence as my orgasm jumped out, making my toes curl hard. It was what I categorized as a medium one but it left me panting, especially as John continued licking me. He finally came up for air and gave me a smile.
“I have a feeling that’s a record…”
“S-Shut up…” I breathed out.
“My darling Nicky isn’t done, is she?” he slowly thumbed at my sex and I quivered. I didn’t want to tell him that yes, I was but I had a feeling he could make me have another one. “We just started.” He leaned down and gave me a kiss. I usually wasn’t a fan of tasting myself but mixed with the scotch and his essence, I didn’t mind. He spread my legs further and I felt the tip of his hard-on trying to push through.
I wanted to stop and suggest a condom before it was too late but suddenly… it was too late! John broke the kiss right before he pushed himself inside. My cheeks ached as he watched me take in a deep breath as he filled me, a light moan escaping his own lips. My muscles automatically clenched against him as he pushed more of himself inside, turning his light moans into sensual hisses. John pinned my hands over my head when our hips met and we both trembled. I continued as a smaller orgasm leapt out, making John smile.
“There. I knew you wasn’t done.” He noticed as he eased out just as slowly as he entered me. I was about to smile at him being a smart-ass until the sudden thrust made me yelp. I didn’t think I was ready for the sudden intrusion but, boy, did my body sing in ecstasy! The minor orgasm from seconds before intensified instead of fizzling out and I moaned loudly.
I wanted to grab a hold of him, to claw at his back to let him know how deep in heaven I was with that little move. But he still held my hands prisoner by the wrists and the only thing I could do was make fists and arch my hips towards his. John gave out a satisfied moan as he started to plant loving kisses on my neck and began to thrust steadily. All I could do was wrap my legs around his waist and enjoy the ride!
I didn’t have a firm hold on him so he fucked me at his pace, which was absolutely wonderful. Another small orgasm built and John let me go through it before slowly pulling out, a deep moan coming from him. Although I still spasmed, we shared a kiss and I gave him a confused look.
“W-What? What happened? Oh, did you…”
“No. I don’t want to, not now. I’m not done with you, yet,” He finally released my wrists and lifted off completely. “Turn around.” He motioned and for some reason, it heightened my senses: usually, I didn’t like that position. But, I had a need to obey and did what he told me. The anticipation was killing me as I waited on my hands and knees for him. His hands went to my hips and I was taken by surprise as he quickly filled me, my breath leaving me. It was the loudest I heard him moan and I came once again, the feeling intensified as I felt him throb hard against my walls.
John stilled and held me firmly in place: I knew what that meant. He was on the verge of releasing and didn’t want to. As much as I wanted to wiggle or something evil like that, I thought against it.
The throbbing ceased and John began slowly thrusting into me. Maybe everyone before him didn’t know what the hell they were doing or perhaps I anticipated having him too much but I was practically buzzing in this new position! Even more so as he yanked the small hairband out my hair and my dreadlocks spilled: I knew where this was going. His hand snaked through my hair, grasping quite a few locks and pulled with enough force to turn that buzzing into the start of my big orgasm. My body convulsed once again as he pulled enough to make me look straight ahead: the feeling upgraded to euphoric.
“F-F-Fuck… John… I’m…” I couldn’t finish the sentence as his thrusts sped up and I was reduced to hard jerks and senseless babble. I barely made out the satisfying moan he gave as he leaned towards my ear.
“Mmm, I know babe: I feel it. I love how hard you cum for me…” was the last thing I remembered him saying as I started to black out from the most massive orgasm I ever had in my life.
Lazy kisses on my forehead brought me out of my sex coma and it felt good to wake up in warm, strong arms. I shifted, wrapping myself tighter against him and he sighed happily: I really liked those types of sighs. Our eyes met and he gave me a small smile.
“Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep! How long was I out?”
“Not long. I was just about to join you.”
“Mmm. Oh: did you… cum?” I had no idea why the word gave my cheeks such an ache but John hummed as he gave me a light kiss.
“Right after you did. I may have had a heart attack, I came so hard. I am old, you know.”
“Stop…” I chuckled and returned the peck. Shifting more, I could indeed feel the remnants of him: so, no condom and he didn’t even bother to pull out. I… had no problem with that.
My thoughts were broken as he repositioned himself between my legs and I felt him start to stiffen. “Don’t look too much into that. If you’re looking for more, you’re going to have to wait until the morning. Unless you want me inside you, again. Can’t say I’ll cum, though.”
“Sleep. That’s what normal people do afterwards,” I nipped at his lips and he laughed. “I’ll hold you to that morning sex, though.”
“Of course, love…” he gave me a lazy smile and kiss. I didn’t expect for him to snuggle tighter with me, which told me that he had plans of not letting me go. It warmed me to the fullest as I drifted back to sleep in his arms.
I woke up first, a bit dazed but remembered that I spent the night in his bed. We were no longer snuggled together but his warmth was still present as he lightly snored beside me. I laid there and watched him for a moment, a smile creeping on my face. Things had certainly turned around: when I first started working for John, I tried to tell myself that he wasn’t my type at all. My crush was wholly based on the fact he played my favorite character on TV.
As I watched him sleep peacefully, I knew that theory was a lie. He may had grown on me but… there wasn’t anything wrong with him, to be truthful. Yes, it helped that he was exceptional in bed! But, I knew it was more than that, as I willed myself not to trace his features.
John Davies was an attractive man… and I considered myself the luckiest woman this side of the Hills.
I couldn’t go back to sleep and decided to get breakfast ready. I looked at him as I got out of bed and smiled widely, I couldn’t help it. I felt great but then again, I hadn’t had sex in over a year. The storm had slowed down but I wasn’t going to let it force me back into the bed with him… no matter how much I truly wanted to. Before I could change my mind, I went into my room to wash my face and brush my teeth, and at least throw a robe over myself: I would shower later.
I wonder if I could talk him into showering with me…
After doing a bit of research, I left a glass of water and some vitamin B complex pills (although Ibuprofen always worked for me so I left that as well) on his nightstand before going to cook. I hoped that his stomach wasn’t too queasy for food but I put the sausage and bacon on standby.
I got lost in my own little world, replaying the night before as jazzy Christmas tunes played through my Bluetooth speaker. I couldn’t help thinking into the future and what would become of us. He had feelings for me: how deep would be something I wanted to know when he sobered up. There was no doubt we both lusted after each other. But, did he want more?
Did I want more?
I just finished the eggs when I was scared shitless as a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. John pulled me closer to him and hummed. “Good: it wasn’t a dream.” He mumbled against my neck before planting a soft kiss. I giggled but leaned more into him.
“Oh? You dream about me, then?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” his answer made me blush once more. “They usually involve you in some skimpy maid uniform but this sexy, too.” John untied my robe and his fingers immediately dipped to their preferred destination. He didn’t have to ask: I spread my legs for him and gasped as he eased a finger in.
“You’re still nice and wet…” he smiled against my neck as the other hand squeezed and caressed a breast: yeah, it helped that I was thinking about how good he was last night! But, unlike last night, I immediately rocked against his probing finger, delighted to feel his erection trapped between us. “I was disappointed when I woke up: thought you’d want some morning sex.”
“It’s still morning.” I couldn’t help smiling as he added a second finger and I gasped loudly.
“That it is.” He slowed down with his fingering and it made my groin tingle. Before I could get used to both fingers, he pulled out and turned me around. The kiss that we shared wasn’t as heated as the night before but it was meaningful and I moaned at the feel of it. As he kissed me, I felt my robe come off and John pressed me closer to his own nude body.
It was as though he liked showing off his strength: I found myself lifted once more and I immediately wrapped my legs around his waist. Without the nuisance of clothes, I could feel his tip rubbing against my entrance and it electrified me. Never in my life had I wanted a man as badly as I wanted him, to the point where I yearned to feel him inside me once more.
I was so caught up in the combination of our passionate kiss and his cock teasing me, I didn’t notice until the last second that we were seated. I broke the kiss as I was straddling him and saw that we were on the couch: with the way he throbbed, I had a feeling we wouldn’t make it back to the bedroom.
My lips went to his neck and John came alive as he moaned and arched towards me. He writhed against me more as I trailed down to his chest, and I thought I was sensitive! Gasps of my name flew out his mouth as I slowly worked my tongue on each of his nipples until they were hard little points. His noises were turning me on, as well as his body not wanting to stay still: I wondered how he would react if I had him bound to the bed…
I shook the thought out of my head and continued my trek down his torso. His breathing became shallow the closer I got to that lovely erection and I decided not to torture and tease him anymore. John let out a sharp gasp as my tongue quickly traveled from his shaft to the tip and my mouth wrapped around the head.
This was a challenge for me: John was about as thick as he was long. But, the only thing I got from him was hisses of approval as I put as much as I could in my mouth. His hands went to my hair and he grasped a few locks firmly, making me tremble and work more of my mouth as best as I could. I looked up to see his expression and wasn’t disappointed: his head fell back and his mouth was agape while he thrusted his hips lightly towards my mouth. I hated to admit that his look made me proud of myself and I continued.
It wasn’t long before I got tired and came back up, purposely giving his slit slow licks before removing him from my mouth.
“F-Fuck…” I had never heard him curse like that and it made me blush. I massaged my jaw, partly due to the over exertion.
“Sorry for what, love? That was amazing! Come here…” he breathed and helped me back into his lap. Before I could do anything, I felt the tip ease inside of me and my body jerked. John grasped my hips firmly and pushed me down on his length.
Shit, it was a totally different feeling than being on my back! I let out a surprised gasp as he quickly filled me and then our lips met. John moaned in my mouth as he made me slide up and down his erection. The pace was faster than it had been last night but in that new position, he was hitting my spot constantly. Along with the friction, my orgasm built in record time, especially as I squeezed against him.
John broke the kiss as he slowed down but it only intensified the tingling. “I’m…” his sentence was cut short as he gave me a quick and rough thrust and he grunted as he began to fill me. The feeling was enough to put me over the edge and I came with him: not as huge as last night but it felt good as my body lightly shook against his.
After a moment, we both relaxed and I was rewarded with soft kisses on my collarbone along with gentle caresses up and down my back.
“I think it’s my turn to apologize…” he sighed out and I giggled.
“Why? You don’t like quickies?”
“Doesn’t put me in the best of lights, now does it?” he said and I found that accent of his adorable as I laughed and gave him a kiss.
“Oh, honey: after last night, you’re more than deserving of this little… break.”
“Mmm: you enjoyed last night…”
“I went straight to sleep, didn’t I? I mean, after three rounds of sex-”
“Three rounds? You counted last night as three rounds? Darling Nicky: you’ve been around the wrong men.” He surprised me but gave me a toe curling kiss before I could respond. John moaned as he released the kiss, giving me a look that simply melted me.
“How… how many rounds did you count last night?”
“Round: singular. There was foreplay and only two positions.”
“Only two?” my eyes widened and he gave out a hearty laugh.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never been in more than one position during a round of sex!” his tone made me embarrassed and I was left with my mouth open. “Oh, Nicky… tell me you weren’t a virgin before last night…”
“W-What? No! That ship sailed a long time ago! It’s just…” I tried to think of a less embarrassing way to say things. I couldn’t think of anything so I sighed. “The last time I had marathon sex, I was fresh out of high school,” it didn’t help that he chuckled but I also felt him stirring about yet again. “You have the stamina of an eighteen-year-old…”
“I’ll have you know that I’m in better shape now than I was thirty years ago! It’s a misconception that us ‘old men’ can’t get it up at our age. For the most part, if you do what you need to do for your body, you’ll have an active sex life well into your eighties. But… you’re the first woman I’ve been with who didn’t take my hard-ons as a compliment.” John gave me a sly look and I laughed.
“Sorry. Not used to it, is all.”
“I don’t understand that.” He squeezed me closer to him. It made me think back to what he said the night before: he was tired of hiding his feelings for me.
“And, I don’t understand what you see in me. There’s only been a handful who’s seen something in me. I mean, look at me: I’m overweight, I’m short and… I’m not all that good-looking…”
“Stop,” his firm grip on my chin made me pay attention to him: it wasn’t rough but firm enough to let me know he meant business. “I hate that you’ve dealt with idiots who put those thoughts in your head. You have a little bit of meat on your bones: who cares? I don’t mind that you’re short. And, you really are gorgeous to me. Do you even understand how thrilled I am that you’re this close to me? And you allow me to do this…” his eyes lowered to my lips yet again and John pulled me into the most sensual kiss I ever had. It was slow and passionate, and it made me not want to leave that spot. Screw the food and anything else: all I wanted to do was just be with my John.
It wasn’t as rough of a transition from maid to girlfriend than I thought. At least, that’s what I considered myself. While it was true we had sex as much as we could, we did actual couple things like dates and stuff like that. It no longer felt like a friends-only night on the town: we held hands, sat even closer to one another, everything that a couple would do. If only he knew how far in heaven I was!
Christmas was more special for me this go around. I struggled to think of what to give John for a present (a silly thought was to lie underneath the tree with nothing but a bow on): there wasn’t much he mentioned wanting and didn’t get it himself. When the idea came to me, I thought it would be stupid but I went with it, anyway because I couldn’t think of a single thing to give him.
Before I became his maid, when the notion that I actually had a crush on him appeared, I did one of the most fangirlish things ever: I sketched him. Well, not personally because I didn’t know him then. I found a picture of John still-framed from the show that I adored and used that as my working piece. I wasn’t what I would call an actual artist but it was something I enjoyed since the seventh grade. It took me a month to finish the piece but I didn’t show it to anyone. How could I? I was embarrassed enough to have a crush on a man who I thought I would never get to meet.
I kept the drawing because it was my best work, and I was glad I did. It was fun to see his face once it was wrapped and under the tree, curious as to what the hell I got him! Every now and then, he would even attempt to guess what I got him and I knew he wouldn’t guess in a million years.
I underestimated his curiosity as I found myself being woken early Christmas morning. “Babe…”
“It’s Christmas.” Although I was half-sleep, I could hear the smile in his voice. I opened one eye and looked at the clock on the nightstand: six-forty-five.
“John… wake me up in four hours.” I buried my head underneath the cover.
“No, woman. I want to know what you got me!”
“Oh, my God, John: go open the damn gift and leave me alone!” part of me wanted to giggle like mad but the other part really wanted those four extra hours of sleep.
“I can’t sleep. Can we just… open gifts and then go back to sleep…?” he was like a child and I honestly thought it was adorable. That man was really anxious about his gift!
Although I huffed and grumbled, it was all for show as I kicked the covers off and glared at him. “You’re gonna wait until I get some coffee in me…”
I purposely took my time preparing coffee, despite him trying to convince me to let him fix it, instead. As soon as I sat on the couch, John went towards the tree. I expected for him to grab his gift but he grabbed mine.
“I would’ve thought you’d move faster than what you are, now.”
“I can’t function without my coffee…”
“Liar. You’re not a caffeine addict, my darling Nicky.” John smirked and handed me my gift. No matter how many times he called me that, I still blushed to high hell.
If I said I wasn’t as curious about my gift, it would be a lie. I talked myself out of shaking the damn thing plenty of times! Knowing my luck, the moment I would’ve touched it, the wrapping paper would have torn.
I put my coffee down and gave him a kiss. “Merry Christmas.”
“Mmm, that’s more like it,” That heart-warming smile graced his lips. I melted as I tore the paper to reveal a white box. “My first thought was to present myself wearing nothing but a bow and a smile but… why would I give you something you already have?”
“Oh, my God: we’re both cheesy saps! I thought about doing the same,” I laughed but then gasped as I opened the box. I honestly wasn’t expecting jewelry. Both necklace and silver Leo pendant shone brilliantly as I carefully lifted it out the box. “Oh, John… it’s beautiful!”
“I wanted to give that to you on your birthday but I worried you would’ve took it the wrong way.”
“I definitely would’ve! Wait… so, this isn’t like a girlfriend necklace or something?”
“Well… when I wanted to give it to you, it was a ‘I-really-like-you-but-let’s-see-if-this-can-be-a-platonic-gift-but-deep-down-it’s-not’ gift. Now, it’s a ‘my-girlfriend-deserves-the-best-because-I-love-her’ gift.” He explained as he put the necklace around my neck. I loved anytime we were close, there was such a spark between us. But then I realized what he said and gasped.
“Or… maybe I can give you a gift that’s a ‘forget-I-said-something-that-may-have-been-too-soon-to-say’ gift?”
“No. You… you love me?” why did it feel like I couldn’t breathe? I should’ve been thrilled; I got two answers in one swoop: I was his girlfriend… and he loved me.
John looked away for a moment but then sighed and smiled at me. “I do,” He opened his mouth to say something else but I damn near jumped on him and kissed him. His body language read of surprise but only for a second before John embraced me and fell in sync with the kiss. “I take it that it’s not too soon, then.”
“No. It’s not. But, then… I’ve been in love with you for the longest so I’m kinda biased. Now, go open your gift.” I gave him a wide smile. I had to say something or we would’ve went into conversation about my confession.
John chuckled and went back to the tree for his gift. “It’s… heavier than I imagined.” He smirked: I had the drawing framed.
“That means you had enough will power to not shake it! Yes, it’s fragile so…” I stated as he began opening his gift. He froze for a moment when half the picture was revealed and then tore the rest of the paper away.
“Nicole… it’s… wow. You had someone draw–”
“Try again.” I got up and stood beside him. John jerked his head towards me and back at the picture.
“You drew this? I didn’t know you could draw. It’s wonderful, love.”
“Yes. I love it. You’re really good.”
It took him after the New Year to finally figure out where to hang the drawing and he decided that anyone who came to the house deserved to see it. I was beyond thrilled with his decision: for a while, I thought he was just being nice when he said he loved it. I even resorted to telling him he didn’t have to hang it up if he didn’t want to.
Right before he would head back to “work”, John took me on a trip. For five wonderful days, we were found in Miami as he pampered and spoiled me. Our time together was honestly spent no more than five miles away from our luxurious resort but I had no complaints. I was satisfied with the fact that he definitely didn’t shy away from showing the world what I meant to him.
The trip served another purpose, I found out on day three. It didn’t dawn on me that while I knew nearly everything about him, he didn’t know much about me. Well, I didn’t tell him much about myself but as he showed when I first arrived, a simple background check told you everything.
We were enjoying each other’s company in a hammock no less, idly watching the waves hit the beach before sunset.
“Do you think this relationship is moving too fast?” John suddenly asked me and it gave room to pause. Had I shown any signs that we were moving too quickly? Or… did he think that?
I shrugged and cuddled more into him, despite the alarms blaring in my head. I was glad he did the same and planted a kiss on my forehead. “No. We’re too old to think like teenagers who have all their lives to find someone for them. Do you–”
“Then, why the question?” I looked up at him. John sighed but eventually gave me a smile.
“I find it… odd but not odd that I don’t know much about you. I know the basics.”
“How much did you see in your background check of me?”
“The usual things. Your full name, your birthdate, your birth state. Previous addresses and phone numbers. Diplomas and whatnot. Nothing about art, by the way so your gift impresses me even more.” he gave me a light peck on the lips.
“Well… what do you want to know?”
“What made you move to the Hills? What happened to your marriage?” his questions put a knot in my stomach, “What’s the real reason why you have little to no friends?”
“I… I don’t trust many people.”
“Oh, darling Nicky…”
“W-What happened when I drowned… I didn’t want to trust anyone, anymore. But, I kept seeing people with… friends and boyfriends and just… I tried.”
“You never told me how you drowned, just that you did.” John’s voice was soothing but it still hurt for me to think about it.
“Do I have to…?”
“No,” he pulled me even closer. “Not until you’re ready to tell me.”
That night, I told him everything, just about. I explained the drowning in detail and went on about how it affected me, especially in school. I was bullied because I didn’t want to get close to anyone, anymore: “Icky Nicky” I was called throughout the remainder of my school days. Which would piss me off: there was nothing wrong with me, physically or hygienically.
My leeriness of people carried over into my adulthood. But, as I told John earlier, I wanted to try because I got tired of seeing others with boyfriends and girlfriends. That’s when I found out that liquor helped. I wasn’t an alcoholic but if I was bold enough to talk to you while out and about, it was possible I was Nicky and Nicky had a few glasses of wine or beer in her.
I told him about my first and only marriage, how I married the first man who made me orgasm (not the first who took my virginity: big difference). How disastrous that relationship was: in the end, he blamed me for “not trying hard enough” to make the relationship work. He made me feel like shit for things I found out later on, I couldn’t control. Like my body’s unwillingness to give him children. Or my mind making up scenarios to make me not trust him, trying its best to manifest them into reality.
After twenty years of marriage, I found myself verbally and mentally abused, and alone. I did the whole shrink thing with the meds but it didn’t last long: I was never a fan of meds but I at least knew what was wrong with me. I took to heart one of the things Dr. Branch-Harris told me: give yourself a fresh start. I didn’t do the clichéd thing, where I threw a dart at a map. Rather, I decided to go clean across the country, away from everything I knew.
Persimmon Hills was my escape.