• Eric Bolton •
What did I even do to get caught up in this mess?
I never really thought I'd end up also staying at her place? My father never told me anything about a babysitter. I'm fucking nineteen, soon turning twenty. I don't need someone to look after me.
I can take care of myself.
Why would my father even think of doing this to me? If he had wanted, he would have just told me to delay my flight, instead of this mockery.
I gritted my teeth with frustration, sweat dripping down my forehead like raindrops. Today was just so fucking hot, and I couldn't believe that I was already sweating. What I wanted, was a simple cold shower and a good massage.
I bet my babysitter had those skills too.
Or else she was just as useless as a ragdoll.
"So, are we just gonna keep standing in front of your door? Or are we gonna get in?" I had to ask.
I don't know why she was hesitating to unlock the door to her apartment. The corridor so far was as bad as I thought it'd be. Does that mean my father was paying her enough to live a fancy life? I doubted it.
"Can you shut your mouth a bit? I'm still trying to decide whether to let you in or just leave you standing all alone?" she said, never bothering to stare at me.
Hmm? She was so confident in a way I couldn't quite understand.
There was something about her, something that was so charged, it left the air hyped with electric currents. Where did her confidence come from?
I was standing behind her, my hand holding my bag whilst my eyes just traced her posture. Her mane of hair fell down in smooth curls, like a river of moonlight under the afternoon light. She was petite, with her clothes clinging to her figure like an extra layer of skin. She looked so damn.....
Perfect.
Don't overthink it, Eric.
Ilsa finally unlocked the door to her apartment, pushing it wide open and gesturing for me to enter. I couldn't wait to just sit down, relax a bit and see if she shared the same taste as I did in everything.
We entered inside, and I felt her presence stalking me from behind.
*
There was nothing fancy about her apartment really, now that I was inside. Instead, it made me freeze in my tracks.
Her apartment wasn't normal. I mean, it wasn't as clean as any apartment I'd been to. It was disaster on a level I didn't even know existed. Shoes and socks littered the floor like confetti from some insane party. Open books were stacked sideways, teetering like they might collapse at any moment. Half empty cups and cans dotted every surface. A small pile of papers teetered precariously on the edge of the coffee table. And lastly, there were the clothes.
Oh yes...the clothes.
They were everywhere, mostly on the floor and some on chairs. A shirt was half hanging off the back of the couch. Her underwear somewhere in the chaos, I just knew it. And yet, she seemed… unfazed. Almost proud, like it didn't bother her.
"Welcome to my home," she said, tossing her bag onto the floor with a careless grace.
I blinked at her, trying to process the disaster. "Your place… looks like a mess."
She didn't even bother to look at me. "I don't think I asked for your opinion… on that matter."
I cocked a brow, feeling my patience twitch. "I'm allowed to raise an opinion when the conditions in here are a hazard to my health."
She gave me a half smile, clearly not planning to argue. I kicked past a few shirts to step further in, catching sight of jeans — a pair thrown casually on the side of the couch. Wait, does that mean that she has someone she lives with?
"You got a boyfriend or something?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
Her face brightened. She moved quickly, picking up the jeans and holding them like a treasure. "I don't owe you an explanation."
I was about to sit on the couch, shoving cushions aside… and froze. My eyes fell on a pair of black panties, delicate and thin, a lacy g-string partially hidden beneath the cushion.
I couldn't stop myself. I tilted my head at her, smile slowly forming as I reached down to pick them up. I knew this was bad of me, but I just couldn't hold myself.
"Are these… also yours?" I asked, holding them between my fingers.
"What the heck…! Give those back!" she barked, her voice sharp.
I chuckled, rolling the fabric gently between my fingers, letting the lace brush against my skin. I brought them closer to my nose, inhaling her scent.
Her cheeks flushed pink instantly. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!?"
"I'm… inhaling your scent," I said, not breaking eye contact. My gaze roamed her face, noticing the faint twitch of her lips, the way her hands clenched at her sides. I could feel the heat rising between us. My fingers tightened slightly around the lace.
She stepped forward, bumping into my chest, my hard muscles a wall she couldn't pass.
I laughed, low and teasing. "You smell like sex," I said, voice rough. Then I leaned closer, letting the words linger like a touch. "Were you… having sex last night?"
Her emerald eyes narrowed, fierce and unchanging. She crossed her arms over her chest, staring right into mine. "Why? Are you jealous?"
I scoffed. "Tch. Do I look like the type to become jealous?"
Her lips twitched, but she didn't break. She said something, something sharp, that left me speechless for a heartbeat.
Finally, she snapped, pointing at the panties. "Give them back!"
I grinned devilishly. "Why don't you make me?"
Her eyes flared, hands tensing, but she didn't move, she couldn't. I was stronger than her, stronger than she wanted to admit. She growled softly, frustrated, but stayed still.
I chuckled again, tucking the panties carefully into my jeans. "Yes… I thought so."
"Why?" she asked, her blush deepening, pale against the heat of her skin.
I let the grin spread wider, leaning just slightly closer to her. "I want something that helps me remember what you smell like."
Her hand went to her mouth, eyes widening. "You're crazy."
"I get that a lot," I said, still smiling. And for the first time since walking in, I felt… at home.
And it felt so good.
"I really think I should talk to Mr Bolton about taking you to a psychiatrist—" she said, brushing a few loose curls from her face. My eyes dropped to her heart-shaped lips, and for a moment, I was just glued to the spot.
They were so appetizing in a way I couldn't resist.
"I think you should just start by making me something to eat," I said, ignoring her remark. "I'm starving."
"Why don't you take a bath first?" she suggested. "You kind of smell like a dumpster."
I pouted my lips. "I didn't think you were paying attention to how I smell."
She rolled her eyes, clearly disappointed somehow. "I think it'll do us both good, if I left you to yourself. I've got a lot of things to worry about."
"Like preparing my bath?" I asked.
She cocked a brow. "Excuse me?"
"What? You don't understand English anymore?" I asked, the last words rolling off my tongue in slow motion.
"I don't think I have time to play your games, Eric."
"Of course you don't." I reminded her. "But I'm interested in playing this game of cat and mouse with you. I mean, you're my babysitter. It's your responsibility to take care of me, isn't it!?"
"I don't think that involves me doing things for you." Ilsa spat venomously.
I dared her. "Are you sure? When my father asked you to do this, I'm pretty sure that your agreement was proof enough that you were prepared for all these things."
"All these things?" she asked.
"Yes." I stated. "You have to cater to my every need."
"I'm not your servant, neither am I your slave." Ilsa said "I'm simple doing your father a fucking favor by letting you even stay under my roof. Don't ever, even for a second, think that you have power over me."
I chuckled. "This definitely sounds like a challenge."
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, she just smiled before she turned and made her way towards her bedroom.
Or at least that's what I thought it was.
I kept my eyes glued to her as she walked, wondering why she was running away before we got to the interesting parts. This was the main problem with girls like, her, girls that thought they owned the world.
She needed someone to teach her life in the most humbling way. And perhaps, that's why I was here.