When she stepped out of her room, rupturing my philosophical musings, I tensed, wondering what she was doing. There was a connecting bath so she was either hungry or she was seeking me out. I looked at my phone and saw that it was too early for her to be heading out to work.
Would she leave Scottie with me?
While it was an imposition, I wouldn’t have minded—a fact that surprised me.
I hadn’t held a baby since Rosa had passed away. If anything, I’d gone out of my way to avoid children, yet here I was, inviting one straight into my inner sanctum.
Her footsteps were soft, light, and I thought back to when I’d called her fat, and wondered what world we lived in where she believed me.
She was perfection in female form.
All rounded and soft. Smooth curves instead of hard lines.
“Professor?” she whispered, and her scent seemed to follow her.
“I told you to call me Nicholas,” I rasped, and knew that she jerked in surprise at my hard tone and hated myself for getting a thrill out of it.
It was delicious to me when she responded out of fear. If anyone was scared, it was me. I was the one who was obsessed. I was the one who was terrified about being found out, and yet the object of my obsession was frightened of annoying me.
Irony was best served with a side of pussy, I found.
And if it was her pussy?
God, I’d lap that up every damn day of the week.
She cleared her throat. “Nicholas.”
“Yes?” I tilted my head to the side and found she was studying me. She wasn’t scared though. If anything, she was eying me like I did when I worked hard not to eye her.
She was attracted to me. I knew that. She saw the face and not the demons within.
Why was it the monsters were always couched inside a beautiful form?
As she licked her lips, I fought a groan.
“What is it, Phoebe?” I demanded, knowing that if I didn’t prompt her, she’d just gawp at me.
Though I scared her, she was as fascinated by me as I was by her. Even before my blackmail, I’d sensed her regard in class where she looked at me like I was a juicy steak, and she’d been vegan for a decade.
“I was hungry. Would you mind if I made us something to eat?”
My heart quickened at her inclusion of me. “You don’t have to ask. I told you, treat the place as your home.”
Her eyes shifted from mine and quickly darted around the place. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that this loft was entirely unlike her old home.
“Yes, well… would you mind?”
“Feel free. I’d appreciate that.” And I would.
Gina had never cooked for me.
I’d never wanted her to though. Not like I wanted Phoebe to cook for me.
To care whether I was full or not.
The nurturing side of her character was something I couldn’t have anticipated. I saw her timid friendliness with others, her quiet humility, and the low self-esteem that had her darting through life like a hungry mouse on an assault course. She had a habit of running a few minutes late—understandable now that I was aware of Scottie—and would always help her colleagues out in a pinch.
She was, I knew, a good person.
She didn’t, I also knew, deserve to have someone like me in her life.
Someone who’d taken advantage of what I’d seen, of her pocketing something from the till, and had used it to force a link between us.
As I always did, I’d intended on sneaking out of the coffee shop while she was in the kitchen. But when I’d been watching her, waiting for her to leave the storefront, I’d seen her grab the twenty from the tip jar and the ten from the register.
Disappointed wasn’t the word, but even as I’d been angry at her, I’d known I could use it to my gain.
And here we were.
Five weeks later.
Phoebe and her infant sibling were in my loft, and she was offering to make me lunch.
Life had a strange way of turning out.
Nicholas
Chapter Nine
I heard the door to the loft open, and as she’d done for the last few nights, she stepped out onto the balcony almost as soon as she made it inside.
I’d been kind, not wanting to scare her off, and had contained myself, but tonight the beast was riding me.
Hard.
With the snick of the patio door opening, I slipped to my feet and headed out of my bedroom.
Before I followed her, I went to her room and quickly dipped my head inside.
Though Rosa had been dead for four years, I still remembered the routine, and when, that first night, she’d started to get him ready with the intention of taking him to a babysitter she’d arranged, I’d told her not to be foolish and that I could manage a one-year-old.
Of course, I couldn’t.
Of course, I’d lied.
I needed her to need me.
Wanted her to depend on me.
And if she did, then incrementally, I could relax. Loosen the taut reins I had on myself.
My throat was tight as I quickly checked on Scottie, who was a far easier baby than Rosa had been. But then, my baby girl had been spoiled for attention and I could tell that though Scottie was used to Phoebe’s focus, he was also used to being left on his own.
A notion that both saddened and angered me.
How many other babies were like him?
Abandoned by their mothers, left to relatives to raise? And Phoebe was just barely an adult. Sure, there were younger mothers, but she wasn’t his mother. She was his sister. Still, you wouldn’t be able to tell.
When she left him, his face would turn bright red but he wouldn’t cry. It was like his fury was internalized. I had to admit, I’d never seen anything more terrifying than a baby with his sense of control.
Rosa would have bawled her eyes out. Had done so every time we’d left her with my parents or Gina’s. But Scottie? He was one of those babies who slept the whole night through because he was accustomed to being ignored.
A month ago, I’d have blamed Phoebe for that. Wanted to attribute something, anything, negative to her. But instead, I was sympathetic now. I knew how hard she worked, how hard she strived, and she’d done the right thing by taking Scottie away from her mother.
A month ago, I wouldn’t have said this was a safe place for her. Not with me in the vicinity. But with Scottie here? I’d do nothing to put him in jeopardy. Would do nothing to unsettle him, not after he’d had a short life of being passed around from pillar to post.
It was hard not following her everywhere, hard staying at home while she went out to work at Crow, but it was getting easier.
Knowing Scottie was safe made my not keeping an eye on her bearable.
As I rubbed a finger down his cheek, he didn’t stir, so I left him to rest and headed out to the balcony.
She was safe from me, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to know it.
Nor did it mean I wasn’t ready to see her pretty pussy again.
My cock hardened as I stepped onto the balcony, where she was leaning over the railing and staring out into the distance.
From here, you could see Brooklyn Bridge and all the way over to the Seaport and the Lower East Side areas. I knew why she was fascinated by the view, but me? I was more interested in her ass.
I’d studied that heart shape so often that I could imagine what it felt like to hold it in my hands. But I wouldn’t touch.