Caught Off Guard

"Pass me those vegetables," Nadine pointed a damp finger toward the diced carrots and chopped celery resting near the edge of the sprawling granite counter.

Heat radiated from the six-burner stove, filling the spacious kitchen with the rich, savory aroma of roasting potatoes and thick, bubbling chicken gravy. Maeva wiped her hands on the front of her plain white apron and slid the wooden cutting board over to the older woman. She moved around the kitchen with a practiced, fluid rhythm, stirring the simmering brown sauce while expertly adjusting the gas heat.

Nadine leaned against the cool marble island, crossing her arms as she watched the new girl work. "I always struggle with getting mashed potatoes the right consistency, but watching you handle all this... I have a feeling I will get the hang of it very soon."

Maeva offered a soft, genuine smile, her hazel eyes lighting up at the compliment. "Of course, ma'am. I can teach you everything you need to know. It is simple once you learn the basics."

"You are a natural. Where did you learn to cook like this? Most girls your age cannot even boil water without causing a disaster."

"The convent," Maeva replied, her voice steady but naturally quiet. "Every Saturday after morning mass, the older sisters gave us cooking lessons in the main dining hall. It gave me a chance to play around with different ingredients and learn how to stretch a meal. As time went on, I got pretty good at it and they trusted me to start preparing daily meals for the younger children."

Nadine beamed, her face softening with fond approval. She was pleased with her new helper's pure nature and immediate competence.

They spent the next few minutes plating the food in comfortable silence. Maeva wiped down the counter and glanced up at the large silver wall clock ticking above the pantry door. It was already past eight at night. She wondered about the man who owned this massive estate. Did their boss usually come back home this late? He had to be a serious, busy man to afford such a lavish lifestyle. The house was enormous, practically a fortress, so it was only fitting that he worked long, demanding hours to maintain it.

Nadine untied her apron, pulling it over her head, and tossed it onto a nearby barstool. "I need to go get cleaned up first," she announced, checking her watch. "If Vance shows up while I am in the shower, go ahead and serve him his dinner in the formal dining room. But if I make it back down before he arrives, I will take care of it myself so you can go wash up too."

"Okay," Maeva affirmed in a small, obedient voice.

Nadine offered an encouraging smile and hurried out of the kitchen, her footsteps fading as she headed straight for her room in the servant quarters.

Left alone in the massive kitchen, Maeva grabbed a soapy sponge from the sink edge. She wanted to keep busy and make sure the kitchen stayed spotless while she waited. She would hate for Nadine to return and get upset over a messy workspace. She turned on the hot water, scrubbing the dirty steel pans, the rushing water drowning out the ambient sounds of the quiet house.

Meanwhile, the heavy oak front door clicked shut. Vance stepped into the grand, dimly lit foyer after a long day at work. He loosened his expensive silk tie, ripping it from his collar with one hand. Cleo walked right beside him, her heels clicking sharply against the polished hardwood floor. The air between them still hung heavy with the raw, unresolved sexual tension from his office desk. Cleo was his childhood friend, and they had grown up so close that everyone assumed they would end up married. Vance never harbored those kinds of romantic feelings for her, but Cleo was madly in love with him. She had proposed a friends-with-benefits arrangement, allowing him to do all the sinful, dirty things he wanted to her body for as long as she desired. He had rejected the idea at first, but after one intense night of her relentless seduction, he figured it was a convenient release. Thus began their sexual relationship.

"Is anyone home?" Cleo asked, glancing around the massive living room.

From down the long corridor, the faint clatter of plates and spoons echoed from the kitchen.

Vance unbuttoned his suit jacket, rolling his broad shoulders. "Maybe it is Nadine," he replied casually. "Go upstairs to the bedroom. I will check it out and join you in a minute."

Cleo flashed him a hungry, eager smile and headed straight for the sweeping staircase. Vance turned and walked down the hall. With every step he took, the sound of running water and clinking dishes grew louder.

He stepped through the wide kitchen archway and stopped dead in his tracks.

A woman stood at the sink, her back to him. The fabric of her knee-length maid's dress clung to a firm, round, incredibly curvy ass that jutted out as she leaned over the basin. Vance blinked, his dark gaze locking onto the hypnotic sway of her hips.

When did Nadine's ass get that big? Or was he dreaming?

He stayed planted in the doorway, taking a long moment to admire the creation in front of him. The view was far too beautiful to ignore. The woman's rear end was a flawless, alluring piece of work.

Oblivious to his heavy presence, the woman spoke over her shoulder, clearly mistaking him for the returning housekeeper. "I am almost done here, ma'am. I will go get cleaned up now."

Vance remained silent. He just stood there, waiting.

The woman turned off the faucet and spun around.

Heavens. Did an angel fall from above?

Vance studied her closely. Her modest dress did zero justice to the lush curves hidden underneath the plain fabric. Her fair skin glowed like the morning sun shimmering on a still lake. Her plump, pouty lips were parted in shock, and her big hazel eyes perfectly complemented her long, dark lashes. Her blonde hair was swept up into a neat, tight bun. She stared at him, frozen in sheer terror.

Maeva felt the air leave her lungs. She was looking at a giant of a man. He possessed broad shoulders and thick, rippling muscles that looked ready to pop the buttons off his dress shirt. He was so incredibly tall that his mere presence made her feel tiny and defenseless. Her first impulse was to scream for help, but logic forced her to swallow the sound. What if this towering, intimidating man was the owner of the house? The security detail outside would never let a dangerous stranger walk right in.

Vance noticed the death grip she had on the wet washing sponge. Her knuckles were stark white. His mind instantly twisted the innocent image. He pictured those small, delicate hands wrapping tight around his hard dick, gripping his shaft and stroking him. A sudden surge of thick, hot blood rushed straight to his groin, making his cock throb against his zipper. For some weird, twisted reason, he envied the poor sponge.

Too many chaotic thoughts roamed through his mind, but he forced himself to focus on the reality in front of him.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Vance demanded, his deep, authoritative voice slicing through the quiet room.

Maeva stiffened, her body locking up instantly. She had never been alone in a room with a man like this before. Back at the convent, the only men she ever saw and acknowledged were the elderly sisters and occasionally the old parish priest. This man radiated a dark, dangerous, and overwhelming masculine energy. She had no idea what to say or do.

She lowered her gaze, bowing her head shyly to avoid his piercing stare. "Good evening, sir. My name is Maeva, and I am the new maid."

Vance rubbed the back of his neck, digesting the information. He wanted to ask if she was the one replacing Greta, but realized this girl would have no idea what he was talking about or who Greta even was.

"Where is Nadine?" he asked instead, his dark eyes scanning her flushed cheeks.

"In her room," Maeva replied. Her voice was quiet, melodic, and soothing. It stirred something deep inside his chest. "Should I serve your dinner?"

Vance stared at her, mesmerized by her innocent demeanor. His usual ruthless, cold edge dissolved.

"Do not bother. I am not hungry," he said, keeping his tone calm and steady.

The lack of bite in his own voice shocked him. Since when did he speak to any woman with polite restraint? He was a man accustomed to barking orders and taking what he wanted. Yet here he was, softening his tone for a maid he had just met.

"Okay, sir. I will just finish cleaning up and leave," she murmured, quickly turning her back to him to face the steel sink once more.

Damn that ass.

Vance gritted his teeth. It took a massive amount of sheer willpower to physically tear his eyes away from the curve of her hips. He spun on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his mind racing.

Why the hell was he so affected by her? He had seen countless beautiful bodies in his life. Why was this one so special?

He needed to clear his head. He retreated toward his bedroom, feeling disoriented. His body was wired tight with stress, intimidation, and raw, unresolved lust. The housekeeper could wait until tomorrow morning when he was sane enough to hold a proper conversation with her.

Right now, he needed a release. He marched down the hall, wanting nothing more than to bury his hard cock deep inside the tight sheath of Cleo's wet pussy and fuck the stress right out of his system.