The Girl Next Door (5 page)

“So, girl, what now?”

Looking up at the depth of promise and interest in his eyes, some of her concerns and fretting dissipated and she smiled back.
Well, I don’t know how long this will be around, but for the moment I have every intention of making the most of it – and as for those other fantasies…well, perhaps I’ll see what happens if I try a few things in that direction.

Ashley leaned forward and licked delicately around one of Matt’s nipples, flicking it lightly with her tongue before she looked up and respon
ded, a glint in her eye as the man in front of her stirred her pulse again and ignited all sorts of thoughts.

“Well…it’
s getting late, I believe. If you wanted to go and settle downstairs, I’m sure I could rustle up something to serve you for dinner. And as for me...well, perhaps you’d let me eat something of an entirely different nature.”

Ashley couldn’t keep the delighted mischief out of her eyes or smile as she descended and licked and nibbled all the way down his chest and stomach. Then she looked up at him and gave in, adding the word that had been on the tip of her tongue all evening.

“…Sir.”

She could have sworn she felt a slight shudder go through him and his eyes deepened with dark pleasure as his grip on her wrist increased.

Served dinner and a blowjob?
Matt could get used to this kind of thing.

“
Mmm…I think I could be convinced. Yes, why don’t you go ahead and do that.”

He gave her a slap on the ass and she jumped a little, then kissed him deeply and rolled out o
f bed, her high spirits obvious as she almost skipped away.

Matt looked after her with a mixture of lust and bewilderment.
He didn’t really understand any of this, but he couldn’t deny the reaction he was having to both the kinky games they were playing and this unexpected hot minx next door.

Shy, sweet Ashley.
Who could have known?

Her reminder about the time hadn’t gone unnoticed, though, and he fished for his phone in his jeans pocket to text his regrets to his friend and the girl he had been meant to meet this evening.
As he glanced out of the door and his cock twitched with a surprising amount of life as he pictured what was waiting for him downstairs, he decided not to mention exactly
what
had come
up
tonight.

Other Books by
Kim Ashton

An Unlikely Maid

Seducing Her Dark Savior

An Unlikely Maid: An Excerpt

There’s nothing to be afraid of. I can do this. It will all work out.
Somehow.

I walked rapidly through the narrow cobblestone streets, trying not to give myself time to contemplate the situation I was in, what I was doing, or anything for that matter.  I’ve always been good at distancing myself from problems, being able to relax and put worries aside, knowing everything would turn out well in the end.
Perhaps too good, now that I think about it, because this time I’m in real trouble. After half a year of sitting around at home having fun, telling myself everyday that I’d look for a job, I’d get a job, it wouldn’t be that hard, it wasn’t that urgent, I could just do something else first…my parents got fed up.

Oh, they tried to act like they were doing it for my “own good”. Like they weren’t kicking me out and leaving me with nothing – they’d rented a place for me for a whole month, so kind, a lovely little hole in the ground featuring decorations of mould and a few cockroaches to keep me company. It would only be temporary, of course, they just thought I should have my own place, space of my own, and when I got a job I could always move to a nicer place. I would have appreciated them at least being honest about it all, instead of trying to protect themselves from the guilt of leaving their only daughter alone in the world.

But I knew it would work out, it would be fine, with or without their help.  I had a whole month to find a job, and it couldn’t be that hard, could it? I did go to a few shops, ask around a bit – I tried, but for some reason it didn’t really work, and I went back resolving to think about the best way to approach this. I did a lot of thinking. And somehow, the time just disappeared – it’s almost the end of the month now and I have no leads, no clue what I’m going to do, my money is almost gone, no way to pay rent…but I won’t panic.  There’s nothing to panic about, I’ll work it out.

That is, I’ll be honest, why I’m resorting to this somewhat crazy endeavour. I have to have something by this time next week, or I’ll be homeless and although I’m sure I could get out of almost any situation, it will probably be a lot more daunting if I don’t have anywhere to come back to, if I end up homeless and can’t wash or eat or…Calm down!  You’ll be ok.  You just have to convince this guy that you have plenty of experience and you’ll make a great maid.  You can do that.
Even if the guy sounds scary as anything.

Service Required!

Efficient and obedient housekeeper needed

Challenging work & High standards

Willingness to adjust to my preferences essential

Generous wage, Food & Board included

I’ve always been a bit wary of replying to random ads in the newspaper, and this guy seemed to be trying to make it intimidating. But then by this point I don’t have much choice, and the offer of wage, food and board – solving all my problems in one – is too good for me to resist.

I glance at my watch and continue on into the nicer part of town, alleys widening into decent sized roads and the rush of pedestrians lessening as I enter a more residential area. Thankfully, I have plenty of time, but since I still don’t know where exactly this house is I don’t want to dawdle. I know I need to make a good impression.

I’m not naïve or stupid, I do know just how much of a long shot it is, and I know how much trouble I’m in. I’m determined to get it right this time, though. I’ve just gone through life with the mindset that everything will turn out OK and that overly worrying just creates stress for no need – and I’ve been right…at least I was right for most of it. Maybe that’s not so true now.

It’s not that I’m lazy exactly; it’s just that I’ve been thoroughly uninspired. I can’t really see the point to most things, which makes it pretty hard to get the self-discipline to follow through with them. But at the very least I have the basic survival motivation now.

Trying not to sigh or think about what will happen if I don’t get this job, I look around as I cross the street and try to get my bearings. The houses around here have become really quite nice – large, whitewashed houses with spacious grounds and often gates leading to small driveways. I hadn’t seen this kind of living for a while and was a little surprised before I realised that of course this guy must have some money if he’s looking for domestic help.

It took me a few more minutes to find it, and as I was still quite early I ended up hovering outside for a bit, going through in my head what I was going to say and how I was going to convince this guy. Judging from the wording he clearly wants some amount of deference – I mean, who lists “obedient” as a requirement for a housekeeper anyway. Trying not to think that this was all a horrible mistake, I shudder and continue attempting to direct my thoughts to what I’m going to say and how I’m going to convince him that I have plenty of experience.

Having succeeded only in winding myself up and making myself more nervous, eventually I decide it’s gone from a “ridiculous” kind of early to “reasonable” and after smoothing down my skirt and trying to settle my hair yet again, I approach the gate.

I push the buzzer, prepared to explain that I’m here about the job interview, but it just beeps and the gate opens without a word.

Unsuccessfully trying to swallow my nerves, I make my way in slowly, too distracted to admire the luxurious front gardens and just how pristine the whole place is. The entrance porch looms above me as I fail to find a doorbell on the oversized door and resort to using the knocker.

Boom, boom, boom.

Despite being the cause, the sound startles me somewhat and I look around uncertainly before returning my attention to the door, caught in that awkward point of not knowing whether I’ve been heard or whether I’d be deemed impatient to try knocking again.

As I contemplate this, I also wonder whether this guy is going to answer the door himself or whether he already has people working for him to do it. The thought that he might be about to appear in front of me has me suddenly nervous.

Before my mind could spin on those thoughts further, the door opened and revealed a man standing in front of me. From his elegant attire and confident posture it was obvious he was the man I needed to impress today. Before my eyes had adjusted properly to the indoors
he looked me up and down and I tried not to think about how shabby my clothes were compared to his. Then again, he surely couldn’t expect too much from someone applying to be a maid, could he?

“You’re here about the job.”

It wasn’t quite a question and as I walked in and met his eyes I momentarily forgot to respond, taken aback by how deeply they seemed to penetrate with a quick glance. I swallowed slightly, wondering why I was suddenly off-balance. Hadn’t I just been prepping for this for the last 15 minutes?

“Ah, yes.” In an effort not to seem ridiculously slow, I stuck out my hand and added, “I’m Amy. Amy Carlson.”

His face didn’t change from its stern, intimidating expression, but I felt like he was amused by me as he gave my hand one firm shake and turned away.

Having not been told anything else, I followed after him, trying not to seem as out of place as I felt. I glanced around a little and noted the wide hallway with large windows set at the end, making the place feel spacious and light. It was a lovely picture, but I couldn’t help thinking it would be a bitch to clean a place like this. I had to do something though, and I was resolved now that I would actually put some work and effort in. I would make the best of this situation, somehow.

My eyes kept flicking to and from the man in front of me, seeming unable to settle on him for too long. He was walking obviously at ease in his own domain, but with such a powerful posture that I was starting to despair about how I’d ever manage to convince him I was actually experienced. Especially since – well, I wasn’t.

He opened a large dark wood door to the right and walked in and I followed to see what I guessed was a study or office. It had a large desk before the window at the end which he headed directly to, with bookcases against the walls filled with what seemed to be an eclectic mix of books. There was a leather sofa and a couple of chairs around a small table just to the left of the door, which in my mind would have been a nicer place to conduct an interview, but then again, he didn’t seem the type of man to lounge back and talk casually to his potential employees.

He sat down in the leather chair behind the desk, and I hovered slightly - there was another smaller chair in front of the desk but I got the impression that it might not be the right thing to do to go ahead and sit down. Before I could worry too much that someone with experience should probably know what's expected, I thought I caught the glimpse of a smile before his face returned to being foreboding and unreadable, and he gestured to the chair.

Trying not to make my relief obvious, I sat, looking down and not knowing quite what to say or do. Surely he should be the one leading this interview? He hadn't even introduced himself!

Before I'd quite got to the point of attempting to say something, he spoke.

"This is a difficult job. It is well paid and well compensated, but I require the very best and nothing else is acceptable. I have high standards that must be maintained and I want someone able to anticipate what I may wish and who is eager and willing to do things in whatever way pleases me. Working for me is not something most people would enjoy."

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