“I started to do magic when I was about your age. I could show you a few tricks if you want.”
“Really?” Max shifted his eyes to me.
I leaned forward, smiling. “Yeah. I have my old magic kit at my parents’ house. I could pick it up and show you some tricks later today if you’d like.”
Max nodded and I stood, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll get it after dropping you and your sister off. We can check it out this afternoon. What do you say, sound like a deal?
* * *
After dropping the kids off at summer school, I picked up my magic gear from my parents’ house, needing to check on their place anyway as they’d left for Florida that week. The lawn needed a mow, but it was too wet on account of the rain we’d had all week. I texted them both an update, letting them know I’d mow it this weekend if it dried out.
Back at the Alberton house, the quiet sounds of the house felt strange. In the few short days I’d been here, I’d become accustomed to the noises of the house: Ryla’s determined stepsanywhere, Max’s quieter movements, and Polly’s quick pace. After working out and showering, I put my laundry in the washer. Seeing a basket of folded towels on top of the dryer, I made a split-second decision and grabbed it. I didn’t know which bath towels went in each bathroom, but it’s not like there were an infinite number of bathrooms in this house. I could figure it out.
The towels in the basement and first floor bathrooms were dark gray. When I opened the linen closet in the kids’ Jack and Jill bathroom, I only saw white towels.
Which, put me in a pickle. The towels in the basket were purple.
And that’s how I found myself at the threshold of Polly’s bedroom door, again.
On the one hand, it was a major invasion of privacy. On the other hand, I could see the door to her ensuite bathroom from here. And I was hired to help her out. It’d be silly to leave the basket at her door; it’d only give her another thing to do.
Decision made, I entered her room.
A hint of her sweet perfume laced the air. A queen bed with rumpled, light purple sheets and a white duvet sat in the middle of the room. A few unfolded clothes lay across a chair in the corner and there was a long line of shoe boxes—at least three high and five across—under the far window. Otherwise, her room was neat and clean. Her floral perfume hung in the air. I took a masochistic inhale, and then, on her bedside table, I saw it.
A tablet.
It looked about the size of an e-reader. My hand twitched toward it, followed by one step. I’d finished all the books Polly had been listening to, and I was jonesing for another fix.
You’re an adult—pick out your own romance novels. Like a man.
Decision made, I ignored the e-reader and marched into her bathroom.
Immediately, I knew it was a mistake.
There, hanging over the rail of her glass shower doors, were two lace bras. My mouth went dry, seeing the silky material, the delicate, lacy cups that looked like flower petals. I was instantly jealous of them, knowing what skin they touched, what secrets they held. I turned quickly toward the cabinet in the corner, coming face-to-face with a towel bar mounted to the wall.
Was there a purple towel hanging there?
Of course not, not with how this day was going. On that towel bar hung my wet dream come to life.
Lace fucking panties.
I stared at them, wondering how soft they were. My dick throbbed as I imagined Polly in them, laying out on her bed for me, gasping as I’d lean over her and bring my nose to that silky center, then inhale.
I glanced down at the basket of towels. Polly couldn’t know I’d been in here, good intentions or not. I left quickly, making the decision to put the basket back in the laundry room. When I walked past her bed again, my eyes trailed to her e-reader on the bedside table. The devil on my shoulder, who had speedily recovered from a small stroke at seeing Polly’s underwear, spoke up.
Whispering to me.
Taunting me.
Open it, Jace, open it. No one will know!
Technically, I’m only looking for a book recommendation. What's the harm in a book recommendation? She’d given me free reign of her library downstairs. And what was an e-reader if not a library of sorts?
I dropped the laundry basket at her bedroom door.
I walked to her bedside table and picked up her e-reader.
