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“I absolutely do if it warrants your peace and safety,” Kace says. “I’m serious. Stay here for the night. You’ve got everything you need on the estate.”
“Kace, really—” he puts his finger to my lips to silence me.
“I’m not arguing with you Amaya. Your safety is paramount here. Let me take care of you.”
Before I know what’s happening, his mouth is on mine. The kiss is brief but determined, commanding. He dominates me, body and soul. I can’t resist him, his touch lighting fires across every inch of my skin, his hands roaming up and down my body over the thin fabric of my yoga gear, caressing, feeling, exploring.
I feel the tightness of his abs, the ropes of muscle weaving down his broad back, his solid biceps. His cock twitches against my thigh, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from jumping this man right here, right now. I pull away and manage to wriggle out of his hold, panting raggedly as I struggle to regain my composure.
“This is beyond inappropriate,” I say, my voice trembling.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“I can’t afford to lose this job.”
“You’re not in danger of losing this job,” he says. “Regardless of this thing between us. And put that dickhead out of your mind. I’ll let security know he is not allowed onto the premises again.”
“Okay,” I reply. “I’ll spend the night if it’ll get you off my back.”
Before he can say anything else, I rush over to the yoga studio for my afternoon session. “Good afternoon,” I tell my clients with a bright smile and proceed to turn on the music.
3
Amaya
After my final session for the day, I’m given a key fob for one of the staff cottages on the east side of the property. It’s a residential area comprising about a dozen Spanish mission-style structures, each with two bedrooms, a fully equipped kitchen and a roomy living space, a large bathroom with both a garden tub and a glass-encased shower, as well as a roomy lounge area on a lovely terrace.
I keep a change of clothes in my car for after teaching, and I always have extras for Mikey since he’s a messy five-year-old boy, so we are set for the night.
Come tomorrow evening, we’ll head back home to Sacramento. Hopefully, Derrick will have gotten the message by then. Kace was right to keep us here for the night, as much as I hate to admit it. Derrick is still texting me, telling me he’s going to wait all night outside my apartment until I talk to him. If he keeps pushing, I’ll have to get a restraining order. What other choice do I have?
I keep thinking about my three bosses and the way they intervened with Derrick. They towered over him, making him look so small and inadequate. I felt safe in that moment, the safest I’ve ever felt. And although it was fleeting, it meant a lot to me.
Yet at the end of the day, they shouldn’t have had to step in. I’ve considered emailing them with a formal written apology. Then again, Tanya has assured me that everything is okay and I don’t want to come across as a nuisance.
I need to stop overthinking so much.
“Momma, read it to me again,” Mikey says.
I’ve already read The Hungry Caterpillar once, but it’s his favorite.
“Momma!” Mikey pulls me out of my thoughts.
“I’m sorry, honey. My mind was somewhere else,” I reply, holding him close as we lay in his bed. “You want me to read the story again?”
“Yes, please.”
“I thought we agreed to just one story before bedtime.”
He gives me his signature puppy-eyes, and I’m reminded of his father now more than ever when I look at him. “Please. It’s the same story.”
“Oh, you’re a crafty one,” I laugh. “But it’s time for sleep.”
“Aww man.” he pouts.
“I know, tough break. But I hear you’re gonna get waffles for breakfast tomorrow at the center.”
It’s all my kid needs to quickly toss his storybook aside and put his head down. At least he’s never been a fussy eater; makes life easier for the both of us. Before I slip out of the bed Mikey is deep in dreamland, his chest rising slowly with each breath. I watch him for a while, admiring his features as I realize how quickly he’s growing.
