I’m about to turn toward the hallway when I hear the clatter of something in the kitchen. I turn and walk in to find Graham in his pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. His back is to me so I lean against the doorframe and observe him.
He picks up the spoon he dropped and tosses it in the sink before turning his attention back to the coffee he’s making. He places two cups with saucers on a tray that already has orange juice and two fresh croissants with butter and berries.
“Thought you’d be in a three-piece halfway to the office by now.” He turns around, a smirk on his face.
“Actually, I was about to bring you breakfast in bed.” He reaches out and I walk toward him. He grabs my hand and pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling my neck.
“I already set Eleanor up with her iPad. She’s watching Peppa Pig so that we can have a nice, slow morning to ourselves.”
He plants kisses up my neck between words as he speaks. A shiver runs up my spine.
“That sounds lovely.”
“You look lovely.” He drags his hand up my bare thigh and beneath the hem of his shirt. “Mmm, no panties.” He softly runs a finger over me.
“Ohhh.” A little moan escapes.
“You feeling okay this morning?”
I nod my head, closing my eyes and savoring the warmth of his large body pressed against me. It just feels so… right.
“How are your hips? I know that marble isn’t very forgiving,” he says, referring to when he bent me over the bench in the shower.
I reach my hands down instinctively as he pulls the shirt up to look.
“Fuck.” He runs his fingertips over a slight bruise that has formed on my hip bone again. “I keep hurting you.”
“It’s a good hurt though,” I say, trying to ease his conscience. I don’t want him to stop or change; it’s too exciting. “It was amazing if that matters.” I reach onto my tiptoes as I turn his head so my lips find his.
He releases the shirt, letting it fall back down to my thighs, his hands going around my back to pull me back against him. He tilts his head, his tongue delving into my mouth as the kiss grows heated.
A cough interrupts us and we both break apart, startled by Miss Perry’s intrusion.
“Good morning, sir,” she says as her heels click swiftly across the floor.
I avert my gaze, not wanting to see the look of disgust or disappointment I know she’s giving me.
“I should go upstairs,” I say before excusing myself from the kitchen and running the three flights back to Graham’s bedroom.
Once in the room I pull his shirt off, reaching for my clothes from last night. I find my panties and bra and put them on, then I step into my jeans.
“What are you doing?”
I turn around to see Graham in the doorway with the tray.
“Oh, I was just getting dressed to head down to my room.”
“Like hell you are.” He places the tray on the bedside table and walks over to me. “Take it off, put my shirt back on.”
“Are you sure? I don’t ha—”
“You want me to do it for you? It’ll take twice as long because the moment I get your panties off, I’m going to have my fill of your pussy for breakfast.”
My mouth goes dry. This man and the things he says. So brash, so vulgar… so hot.
“Maybe.” I shrug and finish pulling my jeans back on.
Before I even realize he’s moving, he has my jeans and panties off and he’s tossed me onto my back on the bed with his shoulders between my thighs.
Ninety seconds later I’m clawing at his back as he draws another mind-blowing orgasm from my body.
“Now that’s what you call breakfast in bed.” I giggle as he wipes my wetness from his chin with a wink.
I pull his shirt back on as I climb into bed, then he settles the tray in front of us. We both sip our coffee and pick at the pastries.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Miss Perry?” I finally ask.
“The deal?” He takes a bite of his croissant.
“Yeah. She clearly has a crush or something on you.”
“A crush?” He arches an eyebrow at me.
“Oh, come on. You can’t be that oblivious. All the little, oh yes, sir; let me fix your tie, sir; let me make sure your pants are buttoned and zipped properly.” I do my best impression of her voice and uptight attitude which causes Graham to burst into laughter.
“I gotta say the impression is uncanny. But seriously, she’s just the house manager, Margot. She’s never told me she has feelings for me, and I certainly don’t have any like that toward her.”
“I don’t think she likes me very much.” I watch his response, curious if she’s ever said anything to him about me.
“I don’t think that’s true; she’s just—cold. She was raised by British parents, stiff upper lip and all.”
I nod. “You two ever have a relationship?”
He seems to think a little too long about this question but then smiles and says, “No, no relationship.”
He moves the tray back to the table and slides his arm around me. “Enough about Miss Perry. Why don’t we finish what we started in the kitchen earlier.” He trails his lips up my neck.
“Do you not want her to know about us?” I cringe a little the moment I say us. “Not us like we’re an us, but just that were—we’ve slept or been together.” I’m getting flustered.
He sighs and sits back against the headboard, running his hand through his dark hair.
“I’m not hiding it, no. I just didn’t think you’d want to openly be making out in front of her.”
“It’s just that, it was the second time.”
He reaches out and brushes my hair away from my face. “What exactly are you asking, Margot?”
“I dunno—nothing really.” I shrug and lean in and kiss him, hoping we can forget this entire conversation.
A few moments later he’s inside me and we’ve both forgotten all about it.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask Eleanor as I pull her dress over her head.
“Uh-huh. I had a dream I was a unicorn.” Her eyes are huge as she pretends her hand is a horn on top of her head. “And, and I had pony friends.”
I laugh as she tells me about the magical land of ponies and unicorns from her dreams.
“That sounds wonderful.”
I help her with her socks and shoes, and we pack her bag for her pre-K class. Once a week she attends an extremely fancy and exclusive pre-K class in the city. It’s a drive but it’s a full day from nine to four. I’ve never even heard of a pre-K program this exclusive. I’m pretty sure the tuition costs more per year than an average home in the suburbs.
But Eleanor loves it. They have equestrian days, which are her favorite, etiquette lessons, tea time every day because why not, and of course different language courses.
We finish getting ready and head downstairs to where Graham is waiting to tell her goodbye.
“Good morning, Miss Eleanor.” Miss Grace Tillmore smiles as Grace runs into her classroom. “Hi, Margot, how are you?” She’s a genuine and sweet woman and since learning about my music education background, she’s been trying to get me in the door to teach at La Crème Academy.