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I reach down and wrap my hand around my cock, stroking it slowly as I imagine Maddie standing in front of me, her body exposed and ready for me to take. I can almost feel her skin under my fingertips, smooth and warm.
In my mind, I step out of the shower and find Maddie waiting for me as she's doing some yoga stretches. She's wearing nothing but a smile as she gets into a downward dog pose, bending over to show off her tight ass before jumping up again.
I can't resist any longer. I step up behind her, pressing my body against hers and running my hands over her hips. She moans softly and arches her back, giving me better access to her body.
I lean down and kiss her neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin there and feeling her shiver in response. She turns her head to look at me; her blue eyes darken with desire.
"Fuck me," she whispers, and I don't need to be told twice. I quickly grab her hips, positioning myself at her entrance and pushing in slowly.
I can feel her warmth enveloping me, impossibly tight as I slide in. She's so fucking warm and wet, and it feels so fucking good. I start to thrust in and out, slowly at first, and then faster and faster.
She's moaning and calling out my name as I pound into her until I can feel her tightening around me. As her orgasm hits and she leans back onto me for support.
"You're amazing, Maddie," I whisper in her ear just before I cum.
I keep my eyes closed, savoring the moment as I once again become aware of the hot water cascading down over me from the shower. I should feel guilty masturbating while thinking about my nanny. I should feel like I'm doing something wrong. But strangely, I don't. All I feel is satisfaction.
Chapter five
Maddie
I storm out of Roland's luxurious apartment, fuming. That infuriating man! Just because he's a rich man doesn't mean he can control everyone's life.
"Learn some respect!" I say to his door as I jab the elevator button more forcefully than necessary. The door might not be able to hear me, nor will Roland, which is exactly why I'm speaking to a door because I can't let him see how angry I am. I need this job. The salary is way better than my previous nanny jobs. And looking at how Roland lives, I'm starting to understand why–the man is loaded. If nothing else, the security gives it away. You only hire security like that if you're paranoid or afraid of kidnappers. While I think Roland is controlling, I don't think he’s paranoid.
Still, the man is annoying as hell. And it doesn't help that he looks effing gorgeous. Men like that shouldn't be gorgeous, I decide. They have no right to. Kind, caring, and sweet men should be gorgeous, not privileged assholes. When the elevator arrives, I step in and punch the ground-floor button.
"Silver fox or not," I mutter to the empty elevator, "that man has got to stop being so... so..." I struggle to find the right word, my anger making it difficult to concentrate. The elevator dings, signaling my arrival on the ground floor. As the doors open, I take a deep breath, hoping the crisp Manhattan air will clear my mind.
I nod to the guy manning the reception area.
"Good night, ma'am," he says politely.
"Good night," I reply, smiling at him. At least this job has some perks–like working in this amazing building.
I look at my phone as I navigate through the throngs of pedestrians. I will make it in time, but only if I hurry.
As a result, I weave my way through pedestrians at a speed that's impressive–even for someone living in Manhattan. Sweating profusely as I do so is less impressive. But this is what happens when your boss makes you late. Once again, my thoughts drift to Roland, cursing him.
Then I shake my head. No, I know yoga. I know how to control my thoughts. Walking around being angry because of someone else's actions is a total waste of time. I should focus on enjoying the exercise I'm getting, even if it's not the best way to get it. I'm sure the pedestrians I hurry past would agree as I accidentally bump into quite a few–it's impossible not to when on the crowded streets.
"Almost there," I tell myself as I spot the yoga studio down the block. I pick up my pace, determined not to be late for my class.
I manage to arrive on time, and as I guide my students through their poses, I find my anger toward Roland beginning to wane. Something about the calm atmosphere and focused breathing melts away my frustrations.
"Let go of any negative energy," I remind my students–and myself–as we settle into savasana at the end of the class. With each breath, I release a little more of my irritation with Roland, allowing myself to relax fully.
"Now, start giving thanks for all the things you're grateful for," I say after giving the students time to let go of their own negative energy.
As I contemplate what I have to be grateful for, I think about Damien. We might have lost our parents too soon, which made me a mother at the age of twenty-one as I took on responsibility for Damien, but the bond we have is incredible. And while raising him has been challenging and meant I had to put some of my own dreams on hold, I still appreciate that I was able to do it. And now, I'm working to obtain my dreams by finishing my entrepreneurship course later this year and having a job that pays me enough to put some money away.
If I get to keep my job, that is.
"Thank you, everyone," I eventually say. "Time to go home."
People clap and thank me for the class.
"That was one kick-ass class," a woman named Petra calls out.
