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The fat paycheck isn’t the only reason that Vanessa has stayed at her nannying job for so long.
Sure, the money keeps her on time for rent payments every month, as well as giving her the chance to plan for grad school in the future. And it doesn’t hurt that Rosie is a sweet kid who keeps Vanessa’s job from feeling like actual work, the hours in the day passing by without any hitches most of the time. But truth be told?
What really keeps Vanessa at her nannying job is Rosie’s mom.
Maybe it’s the blonde locks. Maybe it’s the pencil skirts, or the red lips. Maybe it’s the way that she always tosses her Birkin on the counter without any qualms at all, because she can most certainly afford to replace it if she needs to. But there’s something about her, something about Brooke, that has Vanessa mesmerized every evening when she comes home after a long day at work.
Tonight, despite being Friday and the end of the work week, is no exception. It’s already nine by the time Brooke’s unlocking the door and kicking off her Louboutins in the entrance, and Vanessa’s heart flutters in her chest when Brooke shoots her a smile.
“Rosie already asleep?”
“Bedtime an hour ago,” Vanessa nods from her stool at the kitchen counter, and she can’t help the way her eyes trail over Brooke’s figure as she hangs up her coat.
“Wish I didn’t have to have so many of these late days. I feel like I’m missing out on her sometimes,” Brooke’s voice is tinged with a bit of regret as she walks further into the penthouse, towards Rosie’s room. “I’m going to go say goodnight.”
Brooke’s soft voice emanating from behind Rosie’s door makes Vanessa wonder what it must be like, for both of them. She’s not sure if she’d be able to pull long hours the way that Brooke does, having to miss out on so much of her future kid’s life, but hey, it’s made Brooke richer than rich, so maybe it’s not so bad after all.
When Brooke comes back into the kitchen, the softness in her face is replaced by a furrow of her brows as her eyes dart across her phone screen. Half of Vanessa wants to ask what’s wrong, but the other half of her is distracted by the way that Brooke tosses her hair over her shoulder as she walks over to one of the kitchen cabinets.
“I need some red,” Brooke mutters under her breath, pulling out a glass and a bottle of wine and setting them down on the counter.
The way that Brooke pours the wine is purposeful, determined, and makes Vanessa's eyebrows raise higher and higher on her forehead when the glass has enough wine to get her slurring her words, at a bare minimum. But Brooke is unfazed, her grip on the stem of the glass delicate as she lifts it to her lips, draining it in one go without so much as a wince.
Well, damn. That shouldn’t be as attractive to Vanessa as it is, but she can already hear Silky’s voice in her head teasing her for the way her stomach is doing flips.
Brooke traces her finger along the rim of the wine glass, an expression of distaste flashing across her face when her phone lights up once more on the counter. “You want a word of advice, Vanessa? Never marry a man. Getting out of it is a miserable nightmare that drags on for years.”
Damn. Vanessa doesn’t even want to think about those settlements and divorce proceedings.
“That bad, huh?” Vanessa asks, her eyebrow raising when Brooke reaches for the wine again. “Though I wasn’t planning on it.”
Not that Brooke really needs to know. Vanessa shifts in her chair when Brooke looks up at her with a wry smile, because she’s definitely noticing the way Vanessa’s cheeks are heating up, but then Brooke taps her nails on the side of the bottle of wine. “You want some? You’re off the clock now.”
“I’m good,” Vanessa’s reply comes out in a bit of a squeak, but maybe Brooke hasn’t noticed, if she’s lucky.
Except that Brooke is full-on smirking at her now, her lips pressing together as her eyes flit across Vanessa’s face. It’s as if she knows exactly what she’s doing, and what sort of power she has over Vanessa.
It’s too much. It’s intoxicating. And honestly? Vanessa doesn’t really want to go home yet.
Brooke comes around to Vanessa’s side of the kitchen island, and even without the stilettos she manages to tower over her. “I always noticed that my divorced friends looked so much happier than those who were still married. No longer tied down to their shitty husbands, who were already cheating on them anyway. After divorcing they could put themselves first, y’know? They didn’t have to listen to their husbands and just went after whatever they wanted.”
Vanessa feels like she’s going to pass out, with Brooke close enough that she has to crane her neck to look up at her. “Oh yeah?”
“Mhm,” Brooke’s laugh is light, airy, almost as if they’re having a conversation about the weather. “Do you find that, too? Is your man holding you back, or are you having a good time by yourself?”
“Oh, I’m not...dating anyone.” Vanessa has to keep her gaze from dropping down, because there is definitely a hint of cleavage peeking out from Brooke’s shirt, and nope, she’s not gonna look. She has self control.
Until her eyes flick down and there’s definitely lace behind Brooke’s shirt buttons.
So maybe Vanessa has the self control of a teenage boy. Not that Brooke seems to notice, from the way that she sidles up to her, a contemplative look in her eyes.
“A girl like you isn’t seeing anyone? Not going after what you want?” Brooke says it like it’s a challenge, and her perfume as she takes a step closer is making Vanessa feel a little heady.
“No, I…” Vanessa’s train of thought comes to a stop because Brooke is close to her, real close, her face a few inches away from hers as she leans down to be at Vanessa’s eye level, and god, she really is hot.
Fuck.
Brooke stays where she is, just a smidge far enough away to make Vanessa want to close the distance between them, except she feels frozen, rooted to the spot, her racing heart the only part of her with the capacity for motion.
Brooke doesn’t seem to share the same struggle because she’s smirking, mischief in her eyes as if Vanessa is a target that she’s been waiting for. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. You think I haven’t noticed? You’re not exactly subtle about it, Vanessa.”
Oh, shit.
“I didn’t...it wasn’t…”
Vanessa trails off again, because it’s hard to think of an excuse when the smile on Brooke’s face looks almost satisfied. Brooke’s gaze drops down to her lips, then back up to her eyes, as if she knows Vanessa’s going to break first without her having to do anything,
Brooke’s going to kill her, she really is, because Vanessa feels like she’s about to combust, and then Brooke bites her own bottom lip and shit-
Vanessa surges forward to close the gap between them because she can’t hold back anymore, she can’t, and Brooke’s ready for it, her hands bracketing Vanessa’s waist and holding her steady. Brooke tugs her off the stool so that she’s standing and oh, she still has to tilt her head up because Brooke is so tall, invading all of her senses when she pulls her in closer by her belt loops. Brooke kisses like she knows what she wants, like she’s here to take it from the way she nips Vanessa’s bottom lip and smirks into the kiss when it makes Vanessa gasp.
There’s no way Vanessa’s not asleep, she’s decided as such. She wouldn’t put it past herself to have a spicy dream about Brooke, but this? The way Brooke’s pushing her back until she’s leaning against the counter, the way her hand is winding into her hair, it’s all more than her imagination would even be able to conjure on its own.
Brooke tugs on Vanessa’s hair lightly by her scalp to expose her neck and shit, she’s right on track to turn Vanessa’s legs into jelly, pressing kisses against her skin that make her shiver. “You’re cute when you’re all worked up.”
Brooke lifts her head up and she’s looking smug, too smug, for her own good and Vanessa wants to retort, but then Brooke’s kissing her neck right under her ear and she can’t help but moan, and how has Brooke found one of her weak spots already?
“I’m-”
Vanessa’s half-hearted attempt to reply cuts off when Brooke pushes a thigh in between her legs, and shit, she can’t stop herself from grinding against it because it feels so good , especially when Brooke lightly nips at her skin like that. It makes no sense that Vanessa’s senses are overloaded already from just some simple making out, for God’s sake, but somehow, Brooke elevates it to a level that makes her head spin.
Brooke pulls her thigh back, and Vanessa’s surprised by the whine that leaves her own mouth. She’s usually better than this. Hell, most of the time she’s the confident one. But there’s just something about Brooke that draws Vanessa to her like a magnet, that makes her want more and not be ashamed to have to beg for it.
Jesus, it’s been too long since Vanessa’s gotten any action.
Vanessa doesn’t have to wait for long, because Brooke’s replaced her thigh with her hands at the edge of her shirt, fiddling with the hem as if she has all the time in the world. Vanessa wants to go and take the shirt off her damn self, speed things up a bit because Brooke’s having too much fun, from the way her lips are curving up.
“Easy,” Brooke mutters into her ear, but then she’s tugging on Vanessa’s shirt, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction when Vanessa lifts her arms up for her.
Maybe it’s a good thing that Vanessa hasn’t done laundry in ages, and that the only bra option she’d had to wear this morning was her lacy one that frames the girls nicely, because the way that Brooke’s eyes widen is enough to make her want to squeeze her thighs together. Brooke wastes no time, her hands raking up her sides and leaving goosebumps along her ribs and cupping her tits as she presses kisses down Vanessa’s collarbone, along her cleavage. Vanessa sends a small thank you to the counter that she’s leaning against because there’s no way that she’d still be standing without it, not when Brooke is so determined to turn her into a puddle on the floor.
“Keep going,” Vanessa gasps out when Brooke pulls back, her eyes gleaming and her lips pursed as if she already knows how she has Vanessa wrapped around her finger.
There’s an excitement in Brooke’s eyes, as if pulling Vanessa apart is for her own pleasure as much as it is for Vanessa. Brooke’s the type to enjoy the process, the type who wants to play with her food before she eats it. It’s a far cry from what Vanessa likes, that’s for sure, not when patience is overrated and the fact that they could just be getting to it instead.
But Brooke doesn’t seem the type to give in to Vanessa’s pleas, not her hands go back to trailing along her sides and making her shiver.
“C’mon,” Vanessa mumbles, turning into a whine when Brooke lets out a little laugh.
“I never pegged you for the begging type. All it took was some kissing, huh? That’s all you needed to turn into a little mess? Cute.”
The worst part is that Brooke’s not wrong, not when she’s somehow figuring out Vanessa’s buttons before she even realizes. Brooke’s words shouldn’t be making her even more wet, but Vanessa takes pride in being a sucker for punishment.
“I…”
Vanessa wants to defend herself, she really does, but then Brooke is undoing the button on her jeans and tugging on her zipper, and the slow smile on her face when her fingers trail along the outside of her panties makes Vanessa’s cheeks heat up.
“Someone’s worked up already,” Brooke murmurs into Vanessa’s ear, and Vanessa has to grip the counter behind her when Brooke starts to kiss her neck again while stroking her through the fabric of her underwear.
A part of Vanessa, the one that surfaces occasionally in the shower or when she’s under her covers late at night, has always wondered what it would be like to hook up with Brooke. Of course, that part of her had assumed that it would forever remain a fantasy, that there would be no way for her to know what it would feel like to have Brooke’s lips on hers, Brooke’s hands teasing her and working her up. That same part of her now feels like it’s short circuiting inside of her brain, with sparks that light up and travel along her skin and set her on fire.
Brooke finally, finally tugs Vanessa’s panties down, and the touch with which she traces along her folds is quite confident - she’s definitely not inexperienced, not when she’s already playing Vanessa like a finely tuned instrument, keeping her strings taut and under her control. It makes Vanessa wonder, through the haze of her brain and Brooke’s movements, just how Brooke had ended up settling for someone like her ex husband.
Not that it’s Vanessa’s place to ask - she has more important things to worry about, anyway, like Brooke’s teasing as she circles around her clit without giving her the relief that she needs. Vanessa can feel her hips lifting off the counter to get closer to Brooke’s touch, and the way that Brooke holds her down with her other hand makes her need it even more.
She’s gonna have to beg some more because she’s not going to be able to take it for much longer, not when she’s this wound up. The world feels fuzzy around her, save for snapshots that cut through the clouds in her brain - Brooke capturing her lips with her own, Brooke’s thumb finally brushing against her clit, Brooke’s fingers teasing at her entrance.
“Please,” Vanessa’s voice is breathless when Brooke pulls back from the kiss, when the corners of her lips turn upwards in a satisfied smile.
“I do love it when you’re polite.”
Maybe that’s all it would have taken in the first place, because Brooke’s finally pushing a finger into her and the heel of her palm is on her clit and it makes Vanessa gasp, because finally. It’s a good thing that Brooke has her up against the counter, because she’s not sure if her legs would be able to hold her up on their own anymore.
Brooke licks into her mouth as she gets into a rhythm, pushing another finger in and scissoring them apart inside of her. The noises coming from in between the two of them are enough to make Vanessa want to blush, hide on a normal day, but right now? Vanessa needs it to continue, because the more that Brooke continues the closer and closer she’s getting, and the familiar tightening in her abdomen makes her whine against Brooke’s lips.
There’s no respite as Brooke keeps a steady pace with the pumping of her fingers, and Vanessa’s squeezing around them when she comes, her grip on the counter slipping a little when her legs shake. Brooke keeps her pace up until Vanessa’s gasping and she can’t stay quiet anymore, unsteady on her feet when Brooke pulls her fingers back.
Despite the breathlessness in Vanessa’s lungs and the beads of sweat along the back of her neck, she takes Brooke’s two fingers into her mouth, her tongue swirling around them as she licks them clean. Brooke’s eyes twinkle almost with pride.
“Well, aren’t you something?”
The words are confident when they leave Brooke’s lips, but Vanessa can also see how her pupils are blown, the way her chest is rising and falling as rapidly as Vanessa’s. Behind her facade she’s as worked up as Vanessa is, just as affected and maybe, just maybe, Vanessa can pull her apart even further.
If Brooke’s this worked up already, Vanessa’s going to take the chance she’s been given and make the evening just as memorable for her, too.
The buttons on Brooke’s shirt are hard to undo when Vanessa’s still shaking, but she works her way down until she’s pushing the fabric off of Brooke’s shoulders. Brooke lets her do it, her breath hitching in her chest as if she wants to find out exactly what Vanessa has in store.
“Let me return the favour.”
Brooke’s pliant, letting Vanessa maneuver her towards one of the stools at the counter. “Yeah? You wanna do that, angel?”
“Please.”
Vanessa lets Brooke pull her onto her lap, grinding her hips down a little and maybe there’s going to be a wet patch on Brooke’s skirt underneath her but hey, Brooke’s the type who can afford the dry cleaning. Brooke doesn’t make it easy for her to focus though, not when her hands are raking up Vanessa’s back in a way that makes her shiver. She slides back off of Brooke’s lap so that she’s on her own two feet, and Brooke’s groan of frustration is short-lived because Vanessa wastes no time in tugging on the zipper of her skirt. Brooke takes the hint quickly enough, lifting up her hips so that Vanessa can slide off her skirt and her panties. Pushing Brooke’s thighs apart and stepping between them is worth it to Vanessa despite the cold tile against her knees when she crouches down, especially when Brooke looks at her with hooded eyes and her bottom lip between her teeth.
Vanessa keeps her hands on either of Brooke’s thighs, pushing them apart when they squeeze together as she licks up her slit. Brooke’s breathing comes out in pants, with a moan that she tries to hide behind the back of her hand when Vanessa looks up. Vanessa decides to skip the teasing, the working up, because seeing Brooke fall apart has suddenly rocketed to number one on her bucket list.
She circles her tongue around Brooke’s clit until she’s mumbling under her breath, and Vanessa can pick out just like that and you’re so good before her murmurs turn into a blend of whines when Vanessa trades the circles for sucking on her clit instead. It’s not hard to tell that Brooke’s close, from the heavy breaths and the squeeze of her thighs and steam that has to be emanating from between them, because Vanessa can feel herself already burning up into a pile of ashes.
Her jaw is sore and her knees are aching from being down against the floor, but Vanessa doesn’t waver with her pace, her fingers marking half moon indents against Brooke’s thighs while keeping them apart. It’s worth it, after all, when Brooke’s legs are trembling and she’s inching forward on the stool to get impossibly closer to Vanessa.
“Baby,” Brooke gasps out, and maybe it’s the breathlessness, maybe it’s the pet name, but it’s enough for Vanessa to double down on her efforts, until Brooke is letting out a fractured moan and pushing her away from between her legs.
It’s hard for Vanessa not to feel smug when she stands up, nearly at eye level with Brooke as she catches her breath. She tucks a lock of Brooke’s hair behind her ear, and the sudden intimacy of it makes her pause for just a moment.
She has a second to wipe her mouth on the back of her hand before Brooke’s tugging on her waist and pulling her closer and kissing her. When they pull back, Brooke looks as spent and sated as Vanessa feels, her shoulders relaxed and her posture less tense as compared to when she first came home.
“Feel like I may have you give you a raise for that performance.”
Vanessa makes a face, flicking Brooke’s shoulder when she grins. “You wish. I ain’t a hooker.”
“Sleep over, then? It’s getting pretty late. I’ll even make you a nice breakfast with Rosie in the morning.” Brooke intertwines their fingers, and it’s enough to pull Vanessa in, trap her in place.
“How are you gonna explain that to her?”
It’s a valid question, because the implications of sleeping with her boss are starting to sink in, now that her brain isn’t clouded by lust.
Whoops.
Except Brooke looks unfazed, her smile light and easy. “Rosie’s always asking for you as soon as you leave. I’m sure she’ll be delighted that Miss Vanessa has decided to visit on a Saturday morning.”
“You make a compelling argument,” Vanessa concedes, and maybe just this once will be fine, especially when Brooke is looking at her like that and Vanessa has always wondered what it would be like to sleep in a king sized bed.
“Mm, I’ve been told. Now I have a question for you,” Brooke starts, and the sudden seriousness in her face makes Vanessa stand up a little straighter.
But it’s all for show, really, when Brooke suddenly smiles.
“Pancakes or waffles for breakfast?”