

## Family Care

An Erotic Short Novelette

by Jessa Callaver

Copyright by Jessa Callaver 2014

Smashwords Fourth Edition

Book Cover Image: Copyright Yuri Arcurs | Dreamstime.com

Title: Married young couple during the act of sex at home

Description: Intimate young couple indulging in sexual intercourse

LICENSE NOTES

All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of the original purchaser only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

DISCLAIMER

The characters and events portrayed in this book are a work of fiction or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. The models featured on the cover of this e-book are in no way associated with the story's characters.

MATURE CONTENT

This story contains sexually explicit material, and is intended only for persons over the age of 18. By downloading and opening this document, you are stating that you are of legal age to access and view this work of fiction. All of the characters involved in the sexual situations in this story are intended to be 18 years of age or older, whether they are explicitly described as such or not.

### Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

About the Author

Connect with Me

Other Books by Jessa Callaver

## Family Care

### Chapter 1

"No problem, Mrs. S." Josie propped her cell phone between her shoulder and left ear, pouring hot water onto her oatmeal. "I've already okayed it with the folks, and should be able to stay the full two weeks starting Saturday. I can't wait to see the kids!"

Josie smiled as the call ended, settling the kettle back on the stove, and grabbing a spoon from the kitchen drawer. She placed her phone and bowl onto the table and plopped down into a chair to eat her oatmeal. "Breakfast of champions." She laughed.

She'd need the strength in the days to come.

Everything was set, the i's firmly dotted and t's crossed. She'd start on her overflowing laundry basket tonight, pack her bag and what not tomorrow, and be ready-to-go on Saturday.

There would be a lot to do in the days ahead, but she was ready. She _was_ eighteen, after all. Kiddy appearance and freckles aside, an adult – sort of. She could handle this. More than that, it would serve her well doing something useful during her two weeks off; prepare her for the tough transition into college. And anyway, spring break was overrated. The high school variety in particular.

Her friends loved to harp about how much she'd be missing out on. But really, what exactly was there to miss? Sneaking into bars with fake IDs, beer-bonging until dawn, bodyshotting with raunchy frat boys from Jackass State...

Hijinks?

Josie shook her head, laughing to herself around a mouthful of hot cereal.

As far as she knew she would be young for at least a few more years, and the domestic reserve of North-American frat boys wasn't exactly depleting. There would plenty of good times to go around – plenty of time to be reckless and irresponsible – later on. Once she was older, and more importantly had secured her way to and through college.

And if Josie were being honest, she was actually looking forward to the alternative. To _her_ version of a good time, even if she would (technically) be working: babysitting three boisterous kids for two weeks, and earning some sorely needed scratch. Not what your average eighteen-year-old would call fun, but for all her repeated attempts, she had years ago come to the conclusion that she wasn't meant to be like every other kid her age.

At a gangling five-foot-ten (and one-quarter) with curly, pressing-comb-resistant hair, orange freckles, and a sci-fantasy fetish, Josie didn't exactly fall into the category of wet 'n wild spring-breaker-friendly. The words "soccer dork" came more readily to mind, complete with an inordinate amount of skinned shins, piles of permanently mud-speckled socks under her belt and dog-eared volumes strewn across every spare bit of carpet in her room. Corrective lenses freshman year had rid her of her childhood glasses, easing the dork label. Little had Josie known that the next year she was destined to be divested from the other feature as well. A basic maneuver, a hard awkward tumble, a torn ligament in her leg. And suddenly both Josie's hopes of an athletic scholarship and affordable ride through college had gone the way of her Wendy Thomas resemblance. It was surreal.

Her parents would help with tuition but it wouldn't be enough. So, at fifteen, while still mourning her dream of soccer paving her way to higher learning, Josie said goodbye to her social life, and went to work. Her folks had objected but Josie had been insistent. Their family life had been comfortable. She'd grown up in a nice house in a safe neighborhood, never wanting for much. It was time for her to step up, she'd told herself. With her parents stretched too thin, it was the least she could do – build up her college fund to the best of her teenaged abilities.

The start had been slow. A few failed attempts at flipping burgers at local fast food joints. A stint at THE GAP dealing with self-important sales girls. Only at her mother's suggestion had Josie tried babysitting. A last resort. And four years and dozens of families later, she couldn't imagine herself doing anything else. She'd taken to it like a fish to water. So much so that within a few months of her first assignment, Josie had started rethinking her plans to study sports therapy, and began researching child care and development coursework. A decision she'd only shared with a handful of people (her parents not included).

But first she had to _make_ it to college.

Rising, Josie walked to the sink and placed her empty bowl inside, whistling to herself.

That had been two years ago. After sending out a half a dozen applications, she'd miraculously been accepted to the school of her second choice. The child education program was one of the best in the country, and the coursework renowned for its hands-on approach and real world exposure.

Thankfully she'd also qualified for college loans. They, along with her parents' help and the money she'd earned over the years, would cover most of her tuition, but she still needed money for other basic living expenses. Meals, pens, notebooks, course texts, occasional J.C. Andrijeski book splurges... Start-off cash. The babysitting money from these two weeks would go squarely toward those costs. Once she was in school, she would find a job (or two) to pay for the rest.

Returning to the table, Josie flipped her textbook open, releasing a hard sigh that fluttered the curls of her bangs along her forehead as she settled back into her chair.

Girls gone wild spring breaks? No thanks. Leave them to the cheap-thrill trust-funders. A content 'girl gone mild' would suit her just fit. Next stop, university!

Josie grinned.

But first, _la Casa de Sharps_.

~~~~~~~~

It was hard to believe it had only been a year. Twelve months since Josie had been tapped as the Sharps' go-to child wrangler – a few months after the family's arrival in town. And it all began with a bright green flyer.

Josie had been on her way to Calculus. As she exited the front office a new post the job board, the words, "parents seeking babysitter for three spirited children under ten," in large pink and white letters caught her eye. The ad had beckoned to her. She'd been meaning to investigate it that morning but when her bus had arrived late, she'd been forced to all but run to her first class so she wouldn't be locked out.

The family she'd been sitting for had recently laid her off. Something about an elder relative who'd be moving in and 'rendering her presence unnecessary.' Likely. Two boys with an overly strict, overprotective mother and raging pre-teen and teen hormones was an even more likely reason. One she was frankly happy to let win out after weeks of ogles and 'accidental' brushes with her butt and breasts from Todd and Brian Tayler whenever she let her guard down.

Josie she had saved up about $150 in the past two months, but would need two times that to make her goal before the summer.

So that morning, balancing her half full book bag under one arm, her Calculus book under the other, she'd jotted the number at the bottom of the poster down on the back of her hand. An interview at the family's spacious new home (located around the block from her own) had been set up for the next day after school and ended with her staying for dinner.

The rest was history.

Glancing up at the oven clock, Josie gasped, her knee connecting with the table leg and nearly spilling her untouched O.J. _Shit!_

She gathered her books and papers off the kitchen table in a hurry, shoving them into her backpack along with her phone, then tossed her juice into her empty bowl.

_Ten after seven already_. Thanks to her memory-lane musings, she was about to miss her bus.

Josie wiped the crumbs from her breakfast into her hand, and emptied them into the waste basket. Grabbing her things, she headed for the door, slamming it behind her as she exited and cutting across the dew-covered law in the direction of the bus corner. She heaved her bag onto her back, her thoughts returning to her first days with the Sharps as she made her way across the street.

The Sharp family consisted of three children: Ben, Delia, and Seth (nine, six and eight, respectively). Or as Josie liked to think of them, the cutest 'stairsteppers' a babysitter could ask for – a moniker she made up both because the kids were so very close in age, and because the brood forever seemed to be on either the ascent or descent of the stairs in their home when she arrived. Her first encounter with them had been rough. Discouraging, really. Their introduction cool and distant, the looks they'd given her filled with distrust and wariness. In truth, the three had all but ignored Josie for the first few days she'd come to sit for them, following her orders but never speaking to her directly or making eye contact.

Not exactly encouraging, but Josie had expected as much. Strange new home, strange new town, strange new girl telling you what to do. Any kid would revolt.

But after a trying couple of weeks – not quite at the level of Maria Von Trapp, but close enough to where Josie kept her belongings close at all times to avoid something creepy and/or crawly finding its way inside her bag – they had warmed to her. In time, the entire family had. Warmed to and welcomed Josie as a family member; opened their home to her. Birthdays, dinners, holidays...offering car rides when her parents were too busy to take her to an event. With her they had shared their milestones and happy moments. And she'd returned their kindness by helping the new family in town acclimate to their new surroundings. Kept them abreast of family-friendly goings-on, told them about places she thought the kids might like to visit. Places she'd loved when she was their age. All of it giving her the chance to spend more time getting to know them, to establish a real bond with the children in a way she hadn't with any of the other families she'd sat for.

In their time together, she read to the children, often times from books from _her_ shelves. She took time to explain things, no matter how long or elaborate the trail of questions. She played music for them, stuff she liked, and found kid-friendly websites and activities for them to do when they were bored; made sure the three had plenty of time to run around and get dirty as all kids should. And in return, the trio drew to her: sought her approval on school projects, on the themes of their drawings, spoke to her about their classes and what they wanted to do when they were older, and even, on occasion, confided their and their siblings' secrets. Apparently, according to Delia, Seth had a secret girlfriend and Ben was keeping a stray cat that he'd come across while playing tag near the big oak tree next to the seesaw. Of course when Josie had asked the two boys about their respective treasures, they'd both denied it – taking turns scowling at their smiling baby sister.

Josie was happy to let them keep their secrets. She felt it helped them trust her. And Celia and Evan couldn't have been more kind and complimentary about her sitting skills, which only endeared her to them all the more.

It was such odd serendipity how they'd found each other. Almost like kismet, if Josie believed in such things. Her looking for a new family and them the new family in town. The right place, the right time, a well-placed poster. And they'd clicked. Josie had been their saving grace, they'd told her. Someone they could depend on, could place their faith in, and who cared enough to look after their children as if they were her own. And unlike most of her other families, over the space of a year, theirs became a bond Josie hoped would endure past their need for her babysitting services.

She hoped.

### Chapter 2

Celia and Evan Sharp were more than the parents of three energetic young children. Truth be told, they just happened to be the resident new power couple in the neighborhood. In the time Josie had spent in their home, she'd picked up enough bits and pieces to make that conclusion first hand. As their 'sitter on call,' she'd received more than a few last-minute 'sitting requests when the couple's presence was requested at some important affair or banquet. On a few occasions, one or both had arrived home holding an award or two.

Barely over thirty, Evan and Celia were successful attorneys at medium-sized, regionally-celebrated firms in the downtown Kensworth area. From what Josie picked up during snippets of conversation, the two had married straight out of college, started their family soon after, and were now making quick steps up their respective ladders of success.

Both were very much in-demand at the firms where they worked. Words Josie had heard spoken by Mrs. Sharp herself. Because mostly it _was_ Mrs. Sharp who used such expressions – _in-demand, on their way up_ , and the like. Just as it had evidently been _her_ decision to relocate. 'Moving out and moving up,' she'd once joked.

Not that Mr. Sharp didn't appear to exhibit equal parts workaholic and young legal star on the rise himself. But when it came to unbridled ambition, it was pretty clear that Mrs. Sharp led the band. Josie couldn't count how many times she'd arrived to find the couple, dressed to the nines and preparing to rush out the door, while Mrs. S encouraged her husband to use so-and-so or such-and-such as a 'network opportunity' – him nodding in acquiescence.

A power couple. Smart, beautiful and hardworking with three gorgeous kids. The perfect family.

Except for that one...thing. A tiny blemish on their otherwise radiant complexion. A tension. A tacit disconnect in their interactions that Josie had noticed in her years as sitter. And one that had occurred often enough to let her know not everything was as it seemed on the outside.

One rather ugly incident a month ago in particular had stayed with her.

It had been a Wednesday night a year ago. Josie's cell had rung around 9:30 pm, a frantic Celia Sharp on the other end asking if Josie could fill in for a few hours while she and Mr. S headed out to – what else? – a last-minute affair. After cajoling her parents into letting her out of the house, Josie had walked the few blocks to their house and was preparing to knock when the door suddenly swung open, revealing a preened Mrs. Sharp in a black strapless gown with matching pumps. The older woman clutched the door, a random plant in her hand, her body turned to face her penguin-suited husband, who stood unspeaking in the background.

"...not all of us can be the pretty-faced ingénue with the dimples that sway juries and law partners alike, Evan. I've had to work twice as har–" Celia was saying.

Noticing Josie standing, her husband's attention had immediately shifted toward her, drawing Celia's gaze and halting her in mid-sentence. Josie froze, unsure what to do next and not entirely convinced that backing away and running off into the night wasn't a wise move. But, in the end, she hadn't had to. Taking a moment, Celia regrouped, lowering her head to gather herself just as Mr. Sharp turned away and walked off, avoiding Josie's gaze as he went.

A few minutes, a quick hug, apology and word of thanks later, the couple had rushed out the door. Dinner leftovers were in the stove and they wouldn't be too late, Celia's last words as she draped a wrap around herself and followed her husband out into the cool evening. Peeking through the blinds of the front window, Josie had watched the two continue to go at it, the argument persisting as both dropped inside Evan's shiny black Beamer.

Josie had gone on – checked in on the kids, asleep in their rooms, then spent the rest of the night vegged out in front of a muted 60-inch Plasma, her mind shaken. The entire scene had broken her heart a little, and to this day was one Josie hated herself for having witnessed. A downside of being both 'third parent' and 'fourth child' of the Sharp household. Of being so close to the family. And a circumstance made all the more sad by the fact that, regardless of their personal difficulties, she really liked Celia and Evan.

They were good people. Steel-blooded attorneys, perhaps. A bickering couple, it was apparent. Yet also fun, kind, loving individuals and caring parents. She'd seen it from the first day. From her first time babysitting for them, Celia and Evan both had treated her with nothing but courtesy and respect. A rarity for sure, at least amongst the other teen-aged sitters Josie knew.

They treated her like a human. Like an extension of them rather than merely their kid-sitting serf, the way a lot of adults viewed their regular sitters. Over the years, she'd really gotten to know and like Celia and Evan; had come to admire them, in fact. Mrs. Sharp, in particular, had become somewhat of a role model to Josie.

The young attorney's success, her drive and intelligence, her love for her children, Josie admired them all. Even closer to her heart lay one quality in particular that she and Mrs. S appeared to have in common; one about which the other woman had no clue. Celia Sharp, for all her impressiveness, her grace, charm, and talent, was an attractive yet insecure woman. A nagging self-doubt and discomfort with which Josie could relate all too well.

As a comfortably ultra-unfeminine jock, leaving soccer behind had been jarring. Over the past couple of years, however Josie had come to accept the new bend in her road; to make it her own and make the best out of it. She still found time to play on weekends and with the kids every now and again. It wasn't ideal but it was enough. Her tolerable rebranding: Josie Kendall, thick-thighed soccer lover with a boy's body, soon to be off to university.

Last year, however, in a slightly dramatic fashion, Mother Nature had decided to usher in yet another unexpected surprise. To play a little catch-up, it seemed. The result: ready-to-wear curves that filled out Josie's tomboy T-shirts and soccer shorts. Curves that all-too-quickly turned friendly backpats from guys she'd known since they were frolicking in mud into lingering back _rubs_. The same curves that had essentially pushed her out of her last babysitting assignment. The very same that had Josie's mother suddenly making comments about how 'lucky her daughter would make her husband one day' in front of company. And that had a book-loving auburn-haired jock feeling all the more uncomfortable in her skin.

Oh yes, Josie knew the feeling well, even if she would have never put herself in the same category as the alluring Mrs. Sharp in any other way. The insecurity, the distress, those were banes the two of them _certainly_ shared.

Despite the obvious. At six feet tall, Celia Sharp towered – heels ever-present, whether heading to the grocery store or working in the backyard while her kids played. Her short black hair, styled in a rather severe businesswoman bob with bangs, set off a pair of deep green eyes and bow-shaped lips, the bottom only slightly fuller than the top that made her a sleek and beautiful lady.

To the objective eye, Mrs. Sharp was a beauty. To look at her, you'd never think a woman like her had doubts about her appearance. Wouldn't suspect the frowning once-overs and self-deprecating remarks about her age and body; the constant primping and prodding that occurred before she left the house, no matter the destination. She'd been a swimmer during college, and even after three kids, had the sturdy, broad-shouldered body that came with long hours in the pool...along with the standard flat chest. An attribute, or lack thereof, which she harped on and often sought to mask beneath designer clothes.

Delia had once shown Josie an old college picture of her mother: standing amongst her swim mates in her suit, cap, and goggles, helping to hoist a large trophy in the air. The beautiful smile and dark green eyes were just as captivating as they had been then. From what Josie could tell, the only thing that had changed about Mrs. Sharp from those days were a pair of childbearing hips – a feature that, in Josie's view, gave the attorney's figure a more sensual and soft quality – and the addition one exceptionally hot husband.

A man who would put most women and men to shame in comparison.

Whether dressed in his best suit or rising from a restless sleep with bed head, morning breath, and a five o'clock shadow, Evan Sharp, esquire, doting father, and hottie of the first order turned heads. He was just that striking. He stood at over six feet, with a full head of dark brown hair and a trim, muscular body molded from years of football (apparently he'd been the big man on the college campus where the two had met). What was worse, like so many ridiculously handsome guys, his attractiveness was only amplified by his obliviousness.

Unlike his wife, Mr. Sharp wasn't a fusser. More a rough and tumble kind of guy. He worked out, sure. Josie would often run into him at the door en route, juggling softball gear and cleats in his hands, or on his way to go jog around the neighborhood, earbuds draped over one shoulder. But the workouts didn't seem to be an obsession for him. Nothing relating to keeping up his fit and fine appearance did, and that was his greatest offense. He seemed to try half as hard to obtain the looks that set women double-taking and hair-flipping within an inch of their life.

And admittedly, Josie could hardly say she was immune. Her heart would flutter every now and again when on the receiving end of one of his deadly sexy half-grins. But it was only an appreciation in passing. A young girl's platonic examination of the opposite sex, and nothing more. However steely and strapping, the man was her steely, strapping, deeply intimidating _boss_ , and she his awkward babysitter. For her, it was enough of a distraction just concentrating on caring for his children from week to week. The rest was just a...flight of fancy.

Josie reached the pick-up corner and took a spot at the end of kiddy queue with three minutes to spare. She breathed a deep exhale – one tinged with both relief and frustration.

God, she couldn't wait to get to college. Even after she'd gotten her license, she couldn't afford a car. And since most of her car-owning friends lived across town, riding the big yellow loser-mobile each morning was her only option. An affliction her so-called friends still ribbed her about on the regular. The last time they'd started up only her slip-up, mentioning her Sharps-filled spring break plans, had put a stop their jokes. Or, more accurately, re-directed them. In their horndoggish minds they'd heard one thing: their friend shacking up with one, _Evan_ _Sharp_ uninterrupted for a full two weeks.

The quips had been merciless.

' _Oh, Mr. S, I just can't go to college a virgin. What will all the boys think when they find out? I'll never get a date. You just have to help me! Help me._ Teach _me. Pretty pleeeeease?_ ' her friend Tera had mocked, her mascara-rimmed eyes batting in feigned innocence.

Josie had nearly choked, laughing.

"Goofs." Josie chuckled to herself. Precisely the reason why she'd waited to tell them.

Thankfully, eventually, the ribbing had stopped and the group had moved onto a discussion of their own vacation plans. Yet, hours even days later, the memory of that conversation lingered. Even now causing an unexpected tickle in her stomach.

Moments later, the bus pulled up to the stop along the corner and under Mrs. Crimstell's, their dour-faced bus driver's, watchful eye, everyone began to board. In all the years Josie had taken this bus, she'd never known the woman to crack a smile. She could sympathize. Josie didn't want to be on this jalopy any more than their discontent driver appeared to.

Removing her backpack, Josie tossed it onto her cracked black leather seat, then slumped down next to the bag.

_Another long day of 'thought-control high' ahead_.

Sighing, she opened her bag and withdrew her English textbook. There was a vocab test third period, and despite her run-through at breakfast, she'd barely retained a thing. Right now, for some reason, her mind seemed submerged in all things Sharp. She blew out a hard breath and opened her book, flipping to the page just as the bus turned the corner, their detour bringing the Sharp residence into view. Looking up from the page, she spotted the big white house in the distance, and then, as if beckoned from a Brooks' Brothers ad, jogging toward his car in the driveway, Evan Sharp.

Her heart started pounding.

He wore Aviator sunglasses, a crisp gray suit and reddish-orange tie _._

_Sharp as cut glass_. Josie craned her neck to get a better look just as her window passed the driveway, and Evan glanced up, catching sight of her. He waved, smiling, then lowered himself into the driver's seat.

Damn, the man had sexy grins down to a science.

She smiled into her chest, her face suddenly warm.

As Josie leaned back into her seat, a panicky thought made her gasp, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Had she even waved back?

_Spaz._ Josie shook her head, chuckling to herself, settling back into her seat and angling her book closer to the window. _As if he could care less._

Closing her eyes, she recited the first word on the page. "Fen."

A...an um...female hen?

Waiting a few beats, she looked down, then heaved a frustrated sigh. "Bog; marsh. Of course."

With English looming first period, she couldn't help but feel halfway steeped in one at present.

Josie sighed. She just needed to focus. _Just two more days._

Today was Thursday, break would officially begin the following Monday, and failed quiz or not, she'd be spending this weekend at the Sharps'.

### Chapter 3

Josie curled her tongue over her lip, pulling the covers up over her sleeveless nightgown and slowly sliding her hand inside her underwear. "Fingers, don't fail me now."

The warmth between her legs engulfed her hand as she massaged her lips, sending trembling waves of lust through her body. Josie hissed, holding back a moan.

She'd barely been able to think straight the past twenty-four hours. Inexplicably tense, on edge, and horny as a toad on Viagra. However you wanted to describe it, class after class that day she found herself shifting in her seat, squeezing her legs tight to squelch the sudden fire that overtaken her body since that morning. And only ended up further stoking the flames.

One of the Sisters had even barked at her, upbraiding her 'state of constant fidget.'

Shrew. Like she'd know a distracting fidget if it reached up and yanked at her rosary.

Whatever. It was the night before she would head over to the Sharps' to begin her two-week stint, and all Josie knew was that she absolutely _could_ _not_ go there in this state. Rubbing one out would hopefully release a little pent up stress. Not to mention the good night's sleep riding the orgasm train to dreamland always produced.

Settling her head against the pillow, flared her arms, making sure she had enough room to maneuver under the covers.

Her eyes closed, Josie ran her palm over her hardened nipples and her body shuddered, jerking in tense anticipation. It had been over two weeks since her last 'interlude.' But, in truth, Josie just hadn't had the energy to work herself up enough. She'd start, then find herself drifting off, her hand still inside her pajama bottoms when she awoke the next morning. Thank God it was still cold enough at night for heavy covers or her mother would have surely walked in on an eye full during one of her crack of dawn laundry deliveries.

Not tonight. Her lights were out, her door locked, her parents in their bedroom. That left just her – a girl and her capable right hand.

Spreading her lips, Josie worked her fingers inside her pussy lips, slowly rounding the little wet nub at the center, her thoughts drifting to one of her favorite fantasies – her, Brad, and Angelina in a Moroccan teahouse lounging on a sea of pillows.

Technically, she wasn't into girls, but well, this was her fantasy life. Why play it safe? Besides, Angelina Jolie was pretty universally doable, no matter which team you played for.

The scenario unfolded as it always had: the three of them, sprawled, surrounded by dozens of silk-embroidered red pillows, gossamer veils and wafting smoke masking everything but their languorous bodies. Brad lay in the middle, flanked by their outstretched limbs. His hand caressed Josie's bared inner thigh as he pressed his lips to Angelina's. Even in dream form, she had to admit the actress had delectably lovely lips.

And so did he.

Pulling away, he turned toward her with lust in his eyes. She felt his warm breath on her skin, his mouth nearing hers just as the edges of his face blurred, and suddenly, slowly...morphed. Into Evan Sharp.

Josie squeezed her eyes tighter, her hand moving faster over her sensitive clit. She tried to concentrate on the sensations – on Brad, the beautiful features of his face, how good his hands always felt on her skin – only to find her mind drifting away from her fantasy yet again, their misty environs gradually giving way to a sunny expanse, and a house she knew all too well. A house with a crystal blue pool instead of a backyard, where a girl, one that looked remarkably like her, lay outstretched across its edge.

Her sexual frustration building, Josie acquiesced, timidly following where the image led.

There she was, her body splayed feet from the water, basking in the warm sun. Her arms were folded, supporting her chin. She wore a bright pink bikini, skimpier than any she actually owned. She could see her unfastened top lying limply across her towel, the sides of her breasts spilling out from under her. Her bare back glistened with beads of perspiration that slid lazily across her skin and onto the towel beneath.

As if they'd always been there, strong hands moved in, caressing the backs of Josie's thighs. Chills raced up her spine, hard fingers molding into her skin, sending thick waves of lust straight to her core. Josie felt herself smiling. She didn't turn to see the face of her stranger, she didn't need to. It could only be him. At that moment, her body only _desired_ it be him.

His hands moved quickly, fingertips skimming up her inner thighs, prodding them open with his knees as he leaned into her. His fingers reached beneath her, caressing her moistening pussy lips through the material of her bikini bottom and Josie's mouth opened as her breath caught. She sighed, biting the skin on her forearm. "Yessss."

Evan.

In her bed, nimble fingers worked inside her PJs, rubbing faster. Josie's heartbeat raced, her body quickly nearing its climax.

His hands moved over her ass, kneading the tingling flesh so hard Josie gasped. He bunched the material of her bikini bottom, tightening it against her hot nub, and she reached inside her sleep shirt softly kneading her breast. He leaned into her shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses into her heated skin as his other hand slipped beneath her stomach, and up to cup her breast. Thick fingers engulfed her, squeezing the soft flesh and Josie's whole body began to tremble in a torturous pre-climactic high. She moaned into her imaginary towel, curling her fingers around the edges.

She was going to come, both in and out of the fantasy. As if reading her mind Evan spoke.

"Yes. Come for me, Josie," he whispered, his voice a soft contrast to the aggressive love his hands made to her body, both hands squeezing her breasts, sending her higher.

Spreading her legs, Josie eased one finger inside herself, and felt the inner muscles of her pussy clench. Then, like a bullet discharged, she came, a loud grunt spilling from her lips as her body trembled. Violent jerks that dug her heels into the mattress and forced the air from her lungs.

Moments later, there came a swift knock at her door.

Josie gasped, her lingering lust dissolved in an instant. Taking a deep breath, Josie jerked her hands out of her nightgown.

_Jesus_. She'd screamed. Not a grunt, not a subdued squeal. An actual _scream_! She could still feel the throb in her throat.

And the knock? Probably her mother, come to find out what all the commotion was about. Knowing her she would be just outside listening at the other end.

"It's okay, mom. Just had a bad dream," Josie said.

And sure enough, the knob rattled just as her mother let her presence be known. "You sure, honey? You alright? Why is your door locked?" Mrs. Kendall rattled the knob again, her questions firing in rapid succession.

Josie peered over at the clock on her dresser. Nearly midnight.

Wow, she'd been getting off for almost an hour. A new record! And a perfect end to the night.

"I'm going back to sleep now." She forced a loud yawn for effect. "Night, mom."

"All right dear...g'night." Josie listened until she heard her mother's slippers begin their slow shuffle back down the hallway and the door close. One thing she certainly would not miss when she went off to college, prying parents.

Josie stretched out her arms. Resting them lazily over the flat of her stomach, she felt herself begin to drift off.

Right before losing consciousness, Josie's thoughts returned unbidden to Evan. He was shirtless, the taut muscles of his stomach clearly outlined in perspiration, a seductive grin on his gorgeous face. She rode that image into the darkness, her last flit of a thought: Boy, was this going to be a long two weeks.

Chapter 4

Josie laid her fork down on her plate. She swallowed her last mouthful of eggs, her eyes squarely on her plate. She was really being silly.

So she'd had a fantasy about him. Big deal. What man-loving being that had ever fastened eyes on Evan Sharp hadn't? Guys did it all the time – checking out some hot teacher or friend's cute sister, who would eventually find herself the main course in a masturbatory interlude or three.

The man, the fantasy rather, had made for any easy orgasm. That was all. Fantasy Evan, a sexually stimulative image placed in her head by convenience and convenience alone. So what if Josie had come so hard she nearly pulled a muscle. It was what an imagination was for.

So then why was she flipping out? Feeling so guilty and acting so...new around everyone?

She had shared weekend breakfasts with the family before. Bagels, orange juice, a touch of kid-induced bedlam... Same menu, same routine. Yet when Evan had accidentally grazed her leg as he rose from the table, she'd nearly launched from her seat. Luckily, no one but the two of them had noticed it. They'd exchanged a smile, a look of startled amusement, and moved on.

Rising, Josie walked her plate into the kitchen. She placed it along with her silverware into the dishwasher then breathed a deep sigh to collect herself. It was dumb. Dumb and immature, and she really needed to get it together. It was only day two for god's sake, and here she was, acting like a child. Like a hypocrite. Like all of those women to whom she doled out countless eyerolls for behaving around Mr. Sharp exactly as she was now. She'd be sure to keep an eye on herself for any gratuitous hair flips as the days passed.

Josie took another deep breath and steeling her spine, headed back into the dining room.

This would all smooth over. Whatever the itch was, it would settle and wear off eventually, and she'd return to normal. She was as sure of it as she was that the next two weeks would ones she'd surely never forget.

~~~~~~~~

Monday morning. Mrs. S was up and out at the crack of dawn per usual. On a pre-breakfast sugar rush, the kids had circled their mom all morning. Up the stairs, down the stairs, with Celia corralling them for tickles whenever she had a free arm. The culprit? Pop Tarts. The three had snuck in a few before their Josie had emerged from her room, rascals that they were. Barely awake herself Josie had only lured them from their mother's side with the promise of her famous 'Funny Face Omelets.' The kids loved being able to choose ingredients, which Josie then fashioned into different silly expressions inside the cooked eggs. A Sharp specialty, she only made them for the trio.

Celia had breezed into the kitchen, collecting kisses from each kid as they marched past her, glasses of pineapple juice in hand. "You guys are cool with dinner, right?" she'd asked, zipping up her briefcase and grabbing for her purse as she rushed for the door. "I'll be late tonight."

"Don't worry about it Mrs. S, I'll scrape up something," Josie had yelled back.

"Thanks, Josie. You're a lifesaver!" And then, in a flash, she was gone, her five-inch heels scuttling toward the shiny black Lexus in the driveway. The kids had scarfed down their breakfast, and twenty minutes later, followed, their dad tagging along behind with their lunch bags in hand – leaving the remnants of a messy breakfast scattered along the table.

Soon after Evan had returned, then promptly gone off to his home office near the back of the house. Dressed in a dark brown T-shirt and gray cargo pants, he would be working from home, tying up some loose ends on a recent case. Something Josie only knew because she'd overheard him on the phone while she was laying out the plates for breakfast – while he and Celia made a point of awkwardly avoiding one another. Josie had even recognized the name of the case he was working on. As would anyone within a fifty-mile radius, Josie guessed: Drogan v. Williams.

It had been front-page news in the local paper for long weeks. Warren Drogan, a notorious slumlord and ruthless character, owned a half-rundown building in Kensworth's north ward. Anxious to tear down the building (after years of neglect) and sell the property to a rich developer, Drogan had been harassing his longtime tenants for years. And most had caved to the pressure. The Williamses, however, a beloved family running an institution food kitchen in the north ward, weren't content to be run off so easily. The last hold-out, the family had refused to abandon the thousands of needy locals they'd been serving for generations for the sake of a big payout.

Unaccustomed to not getting his way, Drogan had taken drastic – and illegal – steps to smoke out his most prominent occupants. Shutting their water and heat shut off on frigid winter days had been offensive one. Next came threats of bodily harm made against the kitchen's food suppliers. And soon after, a posse of neighborhood thugs were hired to trash the place. A 'posse' Drogan had been dumb enough to send off to do his bidding in _his own_ Hummer.

The trial lasted a few months, and the win had significantly increased the notoriety of Evan's firm. Specifically, its handsome new attorney. A massive influx of clients had flooded the firm, seeking Evan's and the firm's representation. According to the paper, they were already considering promoting him. Good for the town, good for the firm, and good for Evan Sharp had been the general conclusion. Josie had never been a big follower of local news and was rarely starstruck. But it was kind of a kick to be working for a designated _champion_ _and_ _savior_ of the little guy.

Yet another facet to add to the man's overall appeal – as if he needed it.

Josie inserted the soap into the dishwasher and turned it on, humming to herself as she headed back into the dining room. She collected each plate one by one, wiping off the leftover blobs of food and juice. Though Celia never asked to her play made, with their busy schedules, tidying up a bit was the most she could do while staying in their house. Just an extension of her childcare as she saw it. She could only imagine the state their rooms and the upstairs bathroom had been left in. She'd get to them later. With no activities or playdates planned, the kids wouldn't be home until around 2:30 pm.

It was barely 9 am. Plenty of time. And plenty to do.

Half-opened boxes lay across the kitchen counter. Throwing the dish rag into the sink, Josie entered the living room and looked around. She spotted bits of cracker – or Pop Tart – lying in front of the TV. A few toys were wedged beneath the dining room table, ones she only noticed from her new vantage point. And if memory served, an almost full hamper inhabited the upstairs bathroom. An empty house was just what she needed to get things in order, and that she would.

The echo of a metal drawer being slammed shut made Josie flinch and she nearly dropped the crumbs in her hand.

_Well, a_ semi _-empty_ _house_.

She sighed silently, re-entering the kitchen and emptying the crumbs into the trash. She started repackaging boxes and placing them in the cabinets. Her heart raced, and thoughts of Evan corralling his kids out the door – the curves of his butt as he exited.

_Of all the times for him to be tethered to the house, why today?_ Just as she, and her Evan-related yips, were starting to calm down. It was weird. Though this would be her first full workday in the Sharp house since spring break began, over the last month or so Josie had noticed Evan around more often during the day. She'd be on her way home from school and unexpectedly spot his car in the driveway. Or hitching a rare ride home during a free period, she would see him jogging down one of the cross streets, iPod hitched to the waist of his track pants.

Must be nice to have that kind of flexibility, she'd thought.

Another noise emanated from the area of his office and Josie breathed out a deep exhale.

_Stop, Jos. Stop...thinking...about him_. Seriously!

She bee-lined for the stairs, mounting them two at a time. "Kids' rooms clean-up crew. Stat."

The kitchen was neat enough, the dining room table spotless. She'd wait to vacuum the living room and collect the kids' toy stash under the table. Whatever would, for at least a little while, keep her on an entirely different floor than Evan Sharp.

Josie entered Seth and Ben's room, picking up dirty clothes as she went along. Several minutes later, tossing her finds onto the floor at the center of the hall. Next was Delia's room. Atop the pink bureau sat a set of family pictures. Delia with her mom at a picnic, in the kitchen with an older woman who from the height and face resemblance looked to be a relative, with her father being pushed on a kid's swing. Josie picked up the three-pictured frame, eyes immediately drawn to the photo on the end. The one with Evan.

He smiled over his shoulder, an easy grin that lit up his handsome face. A grey t-shirt pulled taut across his broad back. Shaking herself, Josie put down the picture and hastened out of the room, shutting Delia's door and heading across the hall.

She re-emerged from the bathroom and headed back down the stairs, overly full clothes basket in hand. She tossed the dirty clothes on the couch and checked her watch as she entered the dining room. Ten o'clock. Clothes duty had only taken off an hour.

The toys.

A few minutes later, Josie crawled out from under the table. Standing in the archway facing the dining room, she scanned the floor. All looked as neat as it had before the kids descended. Gathering their things, she jogged upstairs depositing each book, game and figurine in the room of its rightful owner _._

_Screw her Evan Sharp fixation_. She had work to do. And she wasn't going to let her own silliness prevent her from getting it done.

Heaving up the basket, Josie scurried toward the washroom, the muscles in her arms straining from the weight. She really need to start doing curls again, keep her fitness up. It had been weeks since she'd done a proper workout, and even if she wasn't exactly in need of her athletic prowess any longer, her time with the kids would definitely test her endurance.

Just across the hall and to the left of the washroom light shone through the frosted glass doors of Evan's office. She tiptoed inside, partly closing the door behind her. From what she could make out, Evan sounded busy, and jitters or not, the last thing she wanted was to disturb him when he was in work mode. (She was _their_ guest, after all.) Or to force him out of his office while she was this close.

As she piled clothes into the washer, Josie could just make out the sound of a radio in the background. She paused, listening and a smile spread across her face as she recognized the refrain. Some 80s song she knew but couldn't name. She hummed the chorus in her head, mouthing the words in silence as she exited back into the living room, withdrawing the vacuum from the living room closet.

She'd just plugged in the machine when, the front door burst open, sending Josie backward and blocking the closet door.

A laughing Seth and Ben ran inside and flew past her into the house.

She smiled, shaking her head. "Hey guys, what's happene–?" And what the heck time was it?

Ignoring her question, the kids rushed straight toward their father's office and within minutes were dragging Evan outside, laughing and muttering something about a passing blimp. Covering her mouth, she laughed with them as Evan passed. He stared back at her, a questioning look for help on his face as they let him outside. Josie raised her hands and gave a tiny shrug, as if to say whatever was happening was completely outside her control.

In truth, she had no clue herself. But whatever this was, the tightly-wound attorney had been inside nearly all day. Despite his protests, he probably needed the break.

Josie gazed back at the clock on the TV set top box and moved the vacuum over to the side. 1:31. Was it really that late...or that early? Where had the day gone? She'd hardly made a dent in her list and with the kids home an hour before she'd expected...

The pitter-patter of little feet sounded behind her and Josie turned toward the open door just in time to see the littlest Sharp enter, as ever entering last.

Scuttling inside, Delia darted toward Josie, giving her hip a tight squeeze. "Hey Josie!"

"Hey, sweetie pie."

Delia turned to run back outside and Josie grabbed the six-year-old's hand, crouching so they were at eye level. "Delia doll, tell me, what's up?" Josie asked gazing up at her. "Why are you guys home so early?"

The little girl stared outside, anxious to join her brothers, only turning back to face her when Josie leaned in and tickled her neck. Delia giggled, letting go of Josie's hand to guard her neck.

"It's an um...teacher's meetings. Staff dev, dev-lup..." Delia squinted one hazel eye, staring up at the ceiling as she tried to find the word.

Josie smiled. "Ok. I get it." She kissed the little girl's cheek and patting her lightly on her jean-clad butt, shooed her off outdoors. "Off, you." She smiled.

"Daddyyyy," Delia yelled with glee, running toward the boys, now rough-housing with their father on the lawn.

Staff Development Meetings. Mrs. S must have forgotten to tell her on her way out. Jose would have to check her cell for a text. And to make sure to be more vigilant in the days ahead if she hoped to get more done.

Pulling back the door, Josie gazed out across the lawn, a grin on her face. Still amped and energetic from the day, the boys were all over their dad, tumbling across the lawn. Growling and snarling, Evan grabbed two, sometimes three kids at once, dramatically rolling onto the ground under their weight, his biceps flexing and straining, his pants hugging the gorgeous curve of his as–

Her face dropped. Geez. "Horndog much?" Josie whispered under her breath, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Dad, dad, do the Hulk," Seth yelled.

"Yeah dad! Do it!!" Ben's excited little voice urged.

In an instant, Evan crouched down, scratching at his T-shirt like an angry beast. Leaning back, he puffed out his chest, tearing violently at his collar, ripping it and splitting his t-shirt from the top down.

"Ah!" Delia squeaked, throwing her hands up to her face.

Several feet away in the open doorway, Josie held back her own reaction. Frozen where she stood. She looked down at her Chucks, her heart racing.

She'd followed the kids outside, expecting to have to wrangle them back indoors after their dad grew tired of blimp-watching and slipped back into work mode – not to get an eyeful. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she hesitantly lifted her eyes and found herself inhaling a deep, appreciative breath. At the moment, Evan was a man enjoying and entirely engrossed with his children, and it was a beautiful sight. In more ways than one.

Josie had seen Evan topless from afar plenty of times. However, she'd never been quite _this_ close. Never seen the man in all his sculpted glory from this intimate an angle. It was kind of mind-melting.

His torso was long, lean and toned with visible six-pack abdominals and masculine hair in all the right places. Those guys that waxed their body hair like the bodybuilders appeared all too epicene to her way of thinking. And here stood clear proof.

Not overly built or beefy or too sleek. It was... _he_ was...just perfect.

And as Josie's eyes swept across his fit form, a jolt of lust hit her body that nearly brought her to her knees. She brought her hand to her neck, her throat dry, her nipples rising hard and firm inside her peach blouse. She blushed in self-awareness, casually crossing her arms to mask her reaction.

How embarrassing could you get! _So much for exorcising my silly Evan preoccupation._

She took a deep breath, hoping it might quiet her percolating hormones. Josie had hardly had time to release the air from her lungs when Evan came charging at her, lifting her off her feet, and spinning her around, growling and snarling.

Josie peeped, her legs flailing.

"The Hulk has Josie. Let's get him!" Ben hollered, leading the charge.

The kids circled quickly, pulling on her legs, jumping up to tackle their dad from behind,

"Don't hurt Josie, Dad. She's ours," Delia peeped, tugging hard on her father's pant leg.

Josie could do nothing but smile, sharing in the kids' delight.

Evan pretended to sway, staggering back toward the lawn with Josie still in his arms.

"We've got you now, Hulk!" Seth growled.

As Evan teetered feigning the Hulk's demise, the side of his shoe connected with the sidewalk and he lost his balance. Swaying, they toppled, collapsing onto the ground in an awkward tumble, he and Josie grabbing onto each other in mid-teeter.

Catching her breath, her spinning head, Josie slowly sat up, both of them laughing at the mish-mash pile they created. The kids pranced around them, jumping up and down, celebrating their heroism. Shirtless and panting from the exertion, Evan didn't seem in a hurry to push her off. She could feel the back of one of his hands under one of her butt cheeks, his crotch aligned with the other cheek, and as her laughter subsided, what felt like a hard lump underneath her.

_Keys...a cellphone...a particularly_ husky _pen, maybe_?

An image of herself, laid out next to an imaginary pool, strong hands gliding up her semi-nude body invaded Josie's mind, and she felt her breath catch in her throat, her body warming from the memory. Before she knew what she was doing, her hips began moving. Wriggling wriggled, spreading her jean-clad legs and grinding her behind against the back of Evan's limp hand and groin, all in the guise of trying to steady herself and rise off of him. His body tensed and Josie thought she heard him suck in a deep inhale, then exhale just as sharply. And in an instant, Evan seemed to come to his senses.

"Uh, ok guys," he almost screamed, hastily unfolding himself from under her and hopping to his feet. "Let's get inside and get cleaned up. Then we'll fix us up a little dinner, how's that sound?"

Since when did he cook?

He snatched his ripped shirt from the ground, holding it noticeably close to his groin as he moved toward the door. Josie giggled to herself, then pressed her lips together to suppress a full grin.

"Josieeee!" Delia screamed, throwing her tiny body onto her babysitter as soon as her father was clear. "We saved you from the Hulk!" she whispered as if relaying a secret.

"You did!" Josie smiled back, lifting herself and Delia as she rose from the ground.

Placing Delia on her feet, Josie walked toward the door, the little girl clinging to her side as the boys continued to grapple and growl their way across the lawn.

Josie paused as they reached the sidewalk, crouching down. Delia smiled up at Josie, fingers twirling around a lock of her sitter's orange curls. "But..." Josie said, affecting a solemn expression that made the little girl's eyes widen, fingers stilling in mid-twist. "I'm afraid you guys forgot to vanquish...the tickle monster."

Curling her fingers, Josie rose and hovered over the little girl, tickling her sides as Delia squealed. Rallying, she ran for the door and Josie took chase.

"The tickle monster is for babies," Seth balked, giving his brother one last shove.

"Seth!" Evan frowned, waving his skeptical sons toward the front steps. "Come on. Inside guys. And don't forget your bags. Your sister's too."

"How about a pre-dinner snack guys?" Josie yelled from the doorway.

"All ri-ight!" both boys exclaimed, racing past Josie.

She smiled as she followed the kids inside, avoiding contact, eyes or otherwise,.

~~~~~~~~

Evan paused at the door. He glanced back over his shoulder then gazed out across the lawn, shutting the door at his back. His eyes on the ground, he followed the walkway along the lawn's edge. Any bent or misshapen patches would not be welcomed by his wife, so it was probably a good idea to check out the situation now rather than be hit with a grievous chewing-out later.

As he surveyed his surroundings, inside, Evan's thoughts churned.

He breathed a deep sigh, squatting so he could run his palm across a slightly flattened patch of grass. It would rebound, still looked healthy enough, despite their rabble-rousing. He, on the other hand, was another matter.

He could still feel his heart still pounding against his ribs, the blood just now starting to wane in its course to his groin. Even now, he couldn't quite wrap his mind around what had happened. One minute he's playing with his children, the next... The next, what? His hand and crotch both seemed to take on a mind of their own; to react like they'd been shocked to life by the movements of Josie's wiggling backside.

Had she noticed? She hadn't mentioned it, hadn't reacted as if she had. If he was honest, he would have sworn she'd moved the way she had on purpose, almost as if provoking his arousal.

_But no. No_. _There was no way._ Not Josie. She would have never, couldn't have.

So much had been going on. The kids, him falling, bringing her down with him. Whatever he thought, thought he'd felt, he'd imagined – his mind regressing to the ranks of the juvenile here, not her. He rose, running a hand through his hair as he headed back toward the house. The disreputable dregs of a tired mind, Evan thought, shaking his head.

He really needed to get a hold of himself.

### Chapter 5

Tuesday

Evan and Celia both headed to work the next day and the kids to school, per usual, leaving Josie on her own. With her libido somewhat under control, she hoped the day would prove more productive than it its predecessor. The agenda included straightening up, preparing afterschool activities and snacks for the kids, and even more importantly, grabbing a bite to eat herself _before_ they returned from school. Something she'd inadvertently neglected yesterday. Yet if Monday's afterschool performance had been any indication, she'd need the fuel.

Sipping her tea, Josie stared out across the beautifully manicured front lawn. But for a few potted plants along the outside windows and front steps, the front of the house was pristine, yet lacking a personal touch. Sparse, yet not uninviting, especially considering how short a time the family had lived here.

Taking a last deep breath of fresh air, she headed indoors to get started on her tasks for the day.

The house had been renovated just a few months before the Sharps arrived, a constant coming and going of trucks, construction crews and landscapers preceding them. The noise and upheaval had been less than popular with their neighbors. Once it was complete, however, the residents had wasted little time surging over to get a look at the inside of the impressive new home. Even Josie's parents had fallen in line – their chosen entrance ticket, a plate of homemade oatmeal nut cookies she remembered being shooed away from. She'd declined the self-imposed tour.

In all fairness, though, it _was_ a beautiful house. A white, two-storied Cape-styled structure housing five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a modern kitchen, fireplace, self-designed office and laundry rooms, a spacious front and backyard, and all the modern devices someone could want (from top of the line PCs to flat screen TVs). A sweet pad by any stretch of the imagination, and by far, the nicest on the block.

Yet with all of its outer beauty and luxury, Josie had always found the place a tad sterile. A lovely house, but not as much a _home_. A house hardly lived in at that.

Ever since she'd known the family, the place had been in a constant state of vacancy, at least when it came to its parental pillars. Though she hadn't known them all that long, Celia and Evan both seemed constantly on the go. No game nights or gathering to watch TV shows together. According to Delia, before Josie arrived they had only been out of the house once or twice as a whole family since arriving in town. Though D did tend to exaggerate.

Family dinners seemed the only time when the brood tried to come together. Good for Josie as a wage-earning addition to the new homestead, but something the kids didn't always seem wild about. They were well-provided for. Happy, healthy, loved and cared for kids, without question. Anyone could see that much. But, inside, amid so much _stuff_ and every modern convenience, there lay a chill. Among the perfect and pristine, the feel of empty spaces where none existed. The children's presence helped alleviate them, but at times like these, quiet and unoccupied, a coldness permeated the household. A hollowness. And with the children gone keeping herself busy was the only thing that served as a real distraction.

Shutting off the vacuum cleaner, she unplugged it and replaced in the closet. Trotting up the stairs, she turned and crossed her arms looking around at her work. It would do. A chore she could now check off her list, even if the cleanliness wouldn't last very long once the kids arrived. Satisfied, Josie climbed the last few stairs and entered her room.

Celia had been kind enough to place her in the guest room just off the top of the stairs and nearest to the kids' rooms. It was a cute little space. White walls with its own dresser, bed, and mini-closet. She'd refused at first, her house only blocks away, but Celia had insisted. Ultimately, it did make sense, and however cool and unexciting her environs, it felt good to here. To lend a hand to the family where she could and particularly, to be able to greet the kids when they came home.

Flipping off the light, she closed the door to her room, then leaned in and kissed the sign on its front, tracing the edge of the daisy cut-out Delia had added to each corner. "Josie's Room," it read, with all three kids' signature tags and doodles surrounding her name. They had designed and attached it as a welcome before she'd arrived. And thanks to them, for all her feelings of chilliness, her piece of it held a lot of warmth.

She descended the stairs, aiming for the kitchen, the ticking clock in the living room the only discernible noise. It was nearly one o'clock and Josie still needed to start on the kids' snack. As she entered, she ticked off her mental check list. She'd vacuumed, wiped down the kitchen and dining room areas, washed and dried about two-thirds of the laundry left over from yesterday, fed Wylie – Seth and Ben's rambunctious hamster – and tidied up the boys' room. Unlike Delia, who even at age six, managed to keep her personal space relatively well-kempt, the boys' genuinely required as much day-to-day assistance as they could get.

Josie was putting the finishing touches on the children's after-school nosh when the sound of the door leading in from the garage made her heart leap in her chest.

She stared up at the clock again. "Who could that be?"

After a few moments, it hit her and she swallowed involuntarily, her throat going dry.

It had to be – it could only be – Mr. Sharp. He was the only one who used that entrance. Celia always opted for the front door, while the kids you could usually hear approaching for half a mile regardless of how they entered.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. It was one o'clock, meaning the children would be home soon – thank God. Then perhaps, she could focus on them rather than the borderline pornographic thoughts suddenly teasing the edges of her mind.

Josie shook out her nervous hands, and breathed a deep breath. Picking up one of the plates of fruit kabobs, celery and peanut butter sticks, she opened the fridge and cleared a place on one of the shelves. She was backing out of the fridge when she heard the door near the washroom open and close, and then the fall of leather soles tracking across the living room. A squeak sounded a few feet away on her right near the doorway to the kitchen, like an abrupt halt. And Josie knew she'd been spotted.

Backing out of the fridge, Josie closed the door, trying her best to calm her racing heart as she met Evan's equally surprised face.

~~~~~~~~

"Oh! H-Hey Josie." Clearing his throat, Evan offered up a tense smile. For some reason, it had slipped his mind that she'd be here – moreover that they'd be alone in the house again. Damn cases were running him ragged. At times, he'd come home so mentally worn out that he couldn't even think what to do after putting down his briefcase and keys.

"Hey, um, Mr. S." Josie smiled back, grabbing a plate from the counter and re-opening the fridge door.

He removed his coat and walked over to the closet. The smell of the cleaning fluids wafted in the air mixed with another more pleasant scent. "I uh hope I'm not interrupting your routine here. I know I'm home a little early. Just needed to finish up some transcripts that I left in the home office..."

Crossing the room, he tossed his car keys onto the mantle, then walked toward the kitchen again, loosening his tie.

"Nah. I'm mostly done," Josie said, "was just fixing the kids' snack. You want something?" She stood at the sink, rinsing off utensils.

"No, I'm...I'm good." Entering the kitchen, Evan opened the fridge and started rifling through the shelves and drawers. Two plates of foot, obviously home-made, sat on the top shelf. Evan reached around them, careful not to displace her work. He picked up a beer, a block of cheddar, and a piece of pre-sliced ham then backed out of the fridge. He folded the meat in half and shoved it into his mouth as the door clanked shut.

As he crossed the room, he caught a whiff of the sweet scent he'd smelled in the living room. Fruity. Perfumed lotion, maybe? Just then Josie walked by him and he breathed a silent inhale. A tingle snuck up his spine, making his fingers tighten around the bottle. God, did she smell good. He took a deep breath to relax himself then turned away, heading toward the cabinets. "Haven't had a chance to consume anything since this morning's coffee." He cleared his throat. "I'll just grab some crackers or something, I think–"

"Are you sure? I mean, it wouldn't be a problem. I'm basically done with the stuff I was going to do when the kids arrive, and was just about to fix myself a quick grilled cheese sandwich."

He turned to face her and she glanced over at him from the counter, a question in her doe-eyed gaze. Her auburn hair was pulled into a messy bun and kept in place with chopsticks that peeked out of the sides of her head. A pair of low-rise jeans with a hole in the left knee hugged her curvaceous hips and thighs, and a red hoodie covered her orange tank top that peaked out near the back of her neck. Hobo chic, wasn't that what they called it? Or maybe hipster something or other...who could keep up. It suited her, whatever it was.

But...she'd asked him something. What was it?

"Um, yeah well...if it wouldn't be any trouble..."

"No. They'll only take a little while to make. Could you grab some plates and napkins? Oh, and don't forget the pickles."

Evan forced a tight smile, his demeanor all business. "I'm on it."

Withdrawing a couple of plates and napkins, he placed them on the counter before grabbing the pickles from the refrigerator. He'd started for the dining room, when suddenly Josie moved backward, blocking his way.

"Wait!" Josie said, playfully putting up her right hand in a stop gesture. She extended her other hand as if asking for something, a mock serious look on her face.

Evan froze, unsure what to make of her actions. He gazed down at her. The snug fit of her hoodie exposed just enough cleavage to attract a peek. Her breasts sat full and round under the material, luscious and curvy. What a sweet little thing she was. So warm and pleasant, the orange freckles covering her pert little nose and cheeks.

"Mr. S..?" Josie asked, breaking into Evan's thoughts. "The cheese..? I was gonna use cheddar for the grilled cheese...unless you wanted American on yours?"

Stuttering back to consciousness, Evan took a few steps back, forcing a smile. "Oh...sorry." He handed over the square block. "No, cheddar's perfect. Just hungry, I guess."

"Ok. It won't be a minute." She grinned, then turning on her heels, headed back toward the counter. "Just have a seat and I'll bring out the food."

Running his hand through his hair, Evan released the breath aching in his lungs. He strode out of the kitchen, nearly knocking the end-table lamp on the couch as he half walked, half jogged toward the stairs. "I think I'm gonna go up and change clothes." _And change trains of smutty thought._ "Be back in a minute."

Not waiting for a response, Evan took the stairs two at a time, shamefully at attention in his fitted dress pants. He needed to collect himself. Break free of the shameful old man images circling his brain, and _quickly_.

Entering the bedroom, he shut the door and locked it behind him, tearing at his clothes as he moved toward the closet hanging them on the back of his closet door. He changed quickly, throwing on some old jeans and a long-sleeved black baseball shirt he'd left lying across the club chair. He pulled out a pair of off-white Everlongs from beneath his side of the bed, slipped them on, and then exited out into the hallway.

He hadn't planned on staying. On doing anything but grabbing a little food, his files, decompressing for a while then heading back to work. He'd painted himself into a corner the minute he'd fled for the upstairs. He could still go back. Throw on his work clothes and head for the door, make up an excuse.

He could hear Josie humming downstairs, and the sound did nothing to quiet his racing heart – or half-attentive cock.

_Shit_.

He breathed a hard exhale, looking down at his half-tented pants. Either way he couldn't go down there like this. He had to do something. Entering the bathroom, Evan leaned into the sink. He splashed two large handfuls of water on his face, then ran his hands through his hair. It woke him up a little, but the sensation did nothing to shrink his protruding hard-on, now somehow more apparent in jeans.

Frantically, Evan ran through his list of tried-and-true boner killers – his caseload, his boss' waxed chest and sweaty man boobs after a b-ball game at the gym.

He closed his eyes. It seemed to be working. And then, in a moment, a vision of Josie, lying on top of him on the lawn pushed its way to the forefront of his mind, and he found himself back at square one.

"Food's ready, Mr. S!" Josie shouted from the bottom of the stairs. He jerked upright.

"Uh, be right down." His tone sounded a bit frantic to his ear. He only hoped she hadn't picked up on it.

_Crap!_ Pacing, Evan rubbed a hard hand through his hair.

What? What could he do? Pausing, he turned and looked at himself in the mirror. _All right, damn it_.

There was only one way. One sure fire way he'd be able to go down there erection-free. He'd just do it, do it quick, and get it over with.

Quietly, Evan closed and locked the bathroom door. He took a deep breath, unzipping his pants. He slid both them and his boxers down to his ankles, feeling more like a horny pre-teen than he had in years. Carefully withdrawing his swollen manhood, he pressed his back against the wall and shut his eyes. He stroked hard and fast, his thoughts squarely on getting off. He was already aroused, it wouldn't take too long.

After a few minutes, he realized his cock was still half-hard and not lowering. He changed his stroke, going for long slow draws instead of short jerks. Still nothing.

For some reason, he couldn't seem to get the horse out of the barn. He needed...assistance.

Though the last thing Evan wanted to do was insert another woman into the situation – afraid it too easily might morph into...someone else, someone he did not want to think about – he had no choice. _Just for the sake of expediency_.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled a deep breath. Then, without trying, Evan let his imagination go, and there he was. At the entranceway to the kitchen. Exactly as he had been minutes before. And standing at the counter was Josie. Her outfit was similar to what he'd seen downstairs, except this time she wore no hoodie. She wore a tight white t-shirt, the fabric caressing her upper body, accenting the curve of her breasts. Her jeans fit tight to her hips, molding the plush cushion of a perfectly round behind, the same his hands had felt so intimately that day on the lawn.

Quickly, Evan closed the distance between them, spinning her around and pressing her back against the hard surface. Inside the bathroom, jerking his twitching cock, Evan's breathing sped up. He watched himself tear off her pants, kissing her hard on the mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands traveled up her body, massaging her breasts and she moaned against his lips. He lifted her, seating her atop the counter and ripping her shirt over her head and off her body.

In a seconds, his pants were undone and he wedged himself between her legs, winding then around his waist. In one gasping thrust, he drove inside her, fucking her with pure abandon. Her legs tightened around him as he thumbed her nipples, lapping at her lips. Her eyes closed and on a groan and she threw her head back, her hands covering his on her breasts.

"Oh God yeeeeees." The last word rumbled in her throat.

"That's it honey. Take this hot cock," Evan whispered between gritted teeth, his voice echoing off the bathroom walls.

Grabbing hold of Josie's waist, he tilted her hips, deepening his penetration, and her nails dug into his forearms, taking all that she could bear.

_God, was she a sexy little fuck_.

Jesus, had he really just caught himself thinking that? But there was no time to admonish himself. He was so close now. He could feel the perspiration dotting his forehead, his body already starting to jerk from the mounting sensations.

"Fuck me, fuck me, I want it," Fantasy Josie cried aloud.

The sound echoed through him his mind, broke his last shred of resolve. Hastily, Evan pushed off the wall, lurching toward the sink, spurts of cum gushing from the head of his cock as he aimed for the porcelain hollow. He was stroking with such vigor that he had to chew on his lip to subdue his desire to cry out his pleasure.

Leaning his hips against the counter, he steadied himself, one hand resting on the mirror as he rubbed out the last stream of semen from his finally deflating penis. His body quivered. His breathing was hard and heavy, harsh pants for air. After a few moments, it slowed and he could feel his muscles unclenching. He blew out a quiet exhale at the last stroke, then turning on the faucet, grabbed a handful Kleenex and began to wipe off the counter. He pulled up and refastened his pants, a sigh of relief escaping his suddenly dry lips as the cool water ran over his hands.

He turned off the faucet, then checked himself out in the mirror as he dried his hands. His faced appeared a little flushed but everything else looked normal. At least there was nothing he noticed that would betray that he'd just orgasmed to an image of himself banging his babysitter in the kitchen. It would have to be enough.

With one more deep breath, Evan unlocked the door and headed for the stairs. He felt lighter, slightly more relaxed yet still a little wary as he entered the living room. Nearing the kitchen, Mister Mister's _Kyrie Eleison_ blared from the kitchen radio. He smiled to himself. Detouring through to turn up the volume, he exited into the dining room where Josie was already seated and chewing.

"I hope you don't mind," she apologized, "I was half-starving. Couldn't wait."

She opened her mouth to take another bite of her sandwich and the pink of her tongue caught Evan's eye right before she bit down. Evan quickly trained his eyes away, then smiled in greeting taking a seat across from her at the end of the table where she'd placed his food.

"Not at all." He cleared his throat. "Sorry I um took so long." He picked up a pickle slice and popped it into his mouth followed by a potato chip. "Great song by the way. I used to love this group."

Josie nodded. "Thought you might like it. I also thought it might lure you back down here." She smiled, directing her head toward the stairs, and the two laughed.

For the next hour they ate and talked, the radio keeping them company – filling in the few uncomfortable and awkward silences that emerged. It was still playing when the kids arrived home a little while later, and the two parted to go their separate ways.

That evening Evan closed the door to his office and went directly to work. His mind was a fog. Only that song, the one on which he'd entered the dining room earlier, rang clearly in the back of his mind, a picture of a smiling Josie floating around in unwelcomed accompaniment.

Kyrie eleison. God have mercy, through...whatever this was.

### Chapter 6

It was already Friday. The first week of her stay was nearly over, the days filled with so much activity that one seemed to run into the next. Though, of the days so far, the past two had been particularly eventful: the school-wide spring bake sale being held at the kids' elementary school. Ever the joiners, Ben, Delia, and Seth had all signed on to participate. In the midst of their enthusiasm, however the three had forgotten one small detail. They'd failed to alert their mother of _her_ involvement.

Wednesday, days before the event, Celia had come home to a voicemail from a member of the organizational committee, thanking her for volunteering. The poor woman had nearly suffered a meltdown over the phone. She'd immediately picked up the phone to cancel her involvement. But her threats to withdraw were quickly thwarted – effectively undermined by the sweet faces of three pleading children. The poor woman hadn't stood a fighting chance.

And so, it had begun.

The bake sale activities were set to run into the week of spring break at the elementary school. The actual sale would take place all day tomorrow, and the engines were revving, as were the ovens. Since Thursday morning, Josie had been basically baking at all hours. The skeleton crew of organizers were desperate for help and once they'd discovered a non-working teenager was currently being hosted at the Sharp home, the house had quickly been transformed in a beehive of activity, with five to ten children and parents swarming in and out of the house at different times of day seeking help with their own baking. In addition to that, there were last-minute meetings, phone calls, texts and e-mails flooding in from the organizers, requesting assistance on just about every minute detail of planning and coordination for Saturday's event. Each member of the committee had been asked to set up special 'bake sale e-mail accounts,' of which Josie had been asked to keep track (of course).

The whole situation had come to feel like an unnecessary complication of the first order. If Josie hadn't known better, she'd have thought these women were organizing a countywide cook-off rather than a local children's bake sale. Though Josie was happy to do what she could to take some of the burdens off of Celia, her motives for keeping her hands overly full were two-fold. Car access was one motive. With Celia and Evan working long hours and Josie's role at the center of the bake sale crew, she'd also taken on some chauffeur and delivery roles. On occasion she'd take either one of the Sharps' or the more trusting stay-at-home moms' vehicles to run her appointed errands. For a girl who'd been deprived of her own car, she would have been lying to say it wasn't a bit of a trip. And it was nice to know the women of the neighborhood deemed her responsible enough to entrust them with their vehicles – even if she was often running _their_ errands.

The other motive was admittedly a bit more underhanded. Benevolently, Mr. Sharp had been a somewhat ghostly figure over the past couple of days. She liked to assume it was merely work-related. Yet at the back of her mind, Josie wondered if perhaps he'd picked up on her awkward crush antics and chosen to steer clear. Either way, anything that would help to avoid any unnecessary or accidental interaction between them was a plus.

At the moment, however, she was on foot; out performing the last of her bake sale prep duties while at the same time trying to clear her mind with a little exercise. She'd left the Sharps' around one o'clock and after finishing her promo work, and one more brief stop, planned on being back at 2149 Lombard Lane long before the kids returned home from school.

Turning over the neon flyer, Josie removed a few pieces of two-sided tape from the roll and adhered them to all four corners of the paper. She smoothed the flyer across the lamp post and then, happy with her work, headed down Arbend toward home – _her_ home.

Jogging up Portland and Tulane around the outskirts of the neighborhood, she took the time to enjoy the quiet early afternoon streets, ridding herself of her few remaining flyers as she went. She lifted the windshield wipers of a car parked in one of the driveways along Tulane then scuttled off before she could be sighted. It _was_ a kids' event, so she hoped the owners wouldn't mind the tiny invasion.

Doubling back onto Morland Ave., Josie could see the east corner of her street come into view.

She only had a few things to pick up and with her folks away for the week to visit her aunt, the trip wouldn't take long. She'd left behind a note on the kitchen fridge, however, just in case someone showed up and found her gone. She would have texted Mrs. Sharp but honestly didn't want to disturb her at work, or worse, to risk worrying her unnecessarily.

Truth was, although Josie needed the fresh air – and had been meaning to pick up her Janis Ian CD – she was also in dire need of a change of scenery. Some distance from the uncertainty gnawing at her overthinking brain. Put frankly, she'd fled; decided to play it safe in the face of any more unplanned midday drop-bys on her boss' part, or dumb girly displays on hers.

And anyway...those last two-dozen flyers weren't going to hand _themselves_ out.

As Josie neared her block, her thoughts wandered, playing back through recent events.

She had no clue how she'd managed to hold it together on Tuesday. To be so casual, despite the dirty thoughts that had coursed through her head while Evan had been upstairs changing. The same inappropriate musings that had beset her when she'd stood in front of him, hand outstretched, waiting for him to hand over the hard cheddar. The request had been innocent enough. But the feel of it...as if something else lay behind her demand. Something borderline improper. It had been like something else in her, something brazen and uncontrolled had taken over, her body commanding the helm. And he'd sensed it. She knew he had. Perhaps just as he had that day on the lawn.

It made her feel fidgety, excited yet uncomfortable in a way she never had been before when at the Sharps'. She didn't know how to shake loose of that feeling. Or if she could.

What is wrong with me!

Josie stepped inside her house, shutting the door behind her on a hard sigh, and jogging up the black carpeted stairs to her room.

Along with her favorite CD, she'd also forgotten one of her early childcare books. It would be somewhere on her bureau, or perhaps in the back of her bag...

She'd look before she left.

At her nightstand, Josie's eyes fell onto her alarm clock as she yanked open the top drawer.

_Crap_. It was nearly five after two. Where had the hour gone? She needed to be quick.

Grabbing a book from the bottom of the drawer she turned it over. So that's where she'd left it. She plopped down onto the bed, tucking the book next her hip, and withdrawing her CD Wallet from the drawer. Quickly, she flipped through her collection. Pink...Best of Soundgarden...Little Anthony and the Imperials...Yeah Yeah Yeah's...

She chuckled, withdrawing "Welcome Interstate Managers" from its sleeve, and scanning the front of the disk. There it was, song three: _Stacy's_ _Mom_.

More like Seth, Ben and Delia's dad. She chuckled, shaking her head. "You degenerate."

Josie replaced the CD into its holder and zipped it shut. She'd just take them all and find it later. She rose, grabbing her book and CDs, shutting the drawer and closing the door behind her as she made her way back downstairs and outside. Jogging toward Morland her mind quickly retook its musings.

Funny enough, despite her nerves, she and Evan had shared a pretty normal lunch. Grilled cheese was her specialty, and he'd actually been decent company. Before this week, the two of them had only communicated through or regarding the kids. Their conversations were appropriately short, polite, and boring, and that had suited her fine. But on Tuesday, the tone had changed, and not entirely unwelcomed. They had actually _talked_. Not Josie, the kiddie babysitter and Mr. Evan Sharp, esteemed power attorney / employer conversing. Just talked. Josie and Evan, two people, sharing a meal.

Sure enough, beyond the pretty boy good looks was a genuinely interesting person, and one she wouldn't have looked for otherwise. Sure she knew he had a heart, was a concerned father and responsible husband and hot male specimen. She'd seen those features before. But Evan, the Monty Python fan, Evan, the secret sci-fi geek (a particular shock), and...Evan Sharp, stressed-out attorney, Josie hadn't engaged this up close and personal before that day. And for some reason, though not as interesting as the rest, that observation had caught her attention more than the others.

Several times, he'd looked up at her, waiting for her response to a question, and when Josie gazed over, there would be a look. Something in his expression that seemed lost, searching. Initially, she'd thought it was a food speck stuck on her face. Only after she'd rubbed her napkin across different parts of her face so hard she almost took off skin had Josie realized that what she was seeing spoke of something deeper.

Of what exactly, however, she could only guess.

Ambling up the walkway, Josie approached the front steps of the Sharp house, her stomach churning with nerves. Her palms were sweaty as she withdrew the spare key and inserted it, turning it in the lock. Stepping inside, she scanned her surroundings for any signs of life and met with the sound of a shushing dryer, breathed a small sigh of relief.

About a half-hour later, the kids arrived, shoving each other through the door as usual, then making a beeline for the TV. Only by way of the snacks Josie had prepared did she manage to wrangle them away from their favorite mind-numbing programming, and soon after, out the door and back into the fresh air. The children were amped and needed the exercise, and not to be surrounded by sweets and baked treats until their mom came home.

Besides, as far as she was concerned any reason to be outside and away – just in case – would do.

They had walked around for about an hour, with no destination in mind, chatting about their day, and even working in a game of 'never-ending story.' Beginning with a simple subject, each of them would take turns adding a line or two to keep the tale weaving. Today, the game served the added purpose of keeping Josie's mind present, and strictly _off_ of Evan Sharp.

~~~~~~~~

"Jenny..? Jodie..? _Josie_! Wasn't that her name?" Walton laughed.

Speeding up Highway-35 Evan skidded across the broken lines, veering into the right lane. A horn honked in irritation as it passed and he swerved his car onto the shoulder, coming to an abrupt stop inches from the median and putting the car in park.

Walton prattled on, oblivious. "Well...anything going on there?" the man pressed.

Evan could practically hear his superior's eyebrows rising and lowering like some hot-to-trot cartoon character.

Walton Fallon, a jerk of a name to suit a jerk of a fellow. The paunchy 40 year old was one of the firm's partners and an all-around skeevy personality, Evan was coming to find out. The guy had no shame or sense of propriety when it came to the opposite sex. In Evan's estimation, if Fallon wasn't a higher up, he would probably have been let go long ago from the compiled horde of misconduct complaints probably filling out his file. The kind of man the younger, prettier female staff, who had the option, avoided like the measles. He was also someone around whom Evan had made the mistake of mentioning his currently live-in babysitter. The man had been harping on it ever since.

But right now, he could have kissed the man. On his car phone since late morning and with a fast food lunch in his stomach, Evan had been speeding home to pick up some tapes from his office when his boss had gone 'off-topic.' Nothing new there. Only Walton mentioning her name had shaken Evan out of his haze. Panicking, he'd nearly collided with an 8-wheeler on his right, placing him where he now sat – parked in the hard shoulder on 35, his car's right blinker still flashing, his heart thudding in his chest.

Evan put the car in park, the car phone on mute, then took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

_Josie_. How could he have been so careless. It was Friday, midday. She would undoubtedly be there, and the kids would be home soon.

He needed to stand clear. Even with the children close by, he wouldn't risk it again. Not after his little episode in the bathroom on Tuesday.

Evan ran his hand through his hair, collecting himself.

"Evan? Evan, you still there buddy?" Walton called out.

He huffed, mouthing a silent curse as he unmuted the call. "Uh, yeah, Walton, I'm going to have to get back to you tomorrow. I um...one of my tires is making a weird noise and I need to go take care of it. I'll call you back."

"Ok, buddy. You all ri–?"

Evan pressed 'End,' cutting off his boss's response. Blowing out a hard breath he dropped his head onto the steering wheel and flicked off the blinker, closing both eyes.

For a few moments, he just sat there. His head throbbed. His back felt like a cluster of knots.

_Tuesday_. He'd felt like a hormonal pubescent that afternoon. Nervous and self-conscious, forcing down the grilled cheese she'd been nice enough to make for him. He'd never really been a fan, but his hunger, gratitude and desire for the company had outweighed all else.

Just an hour. A shared meal, some mild conversation. Slightly awkward, but...nice. More than nice, if he were being honest. More like just what he'd needed. Even the foolish delight he'd taken in her amusement with his stupid jokes had been a welcomed distraction.

It had been a long time since he'd just talked – just _been_ – with anyone.

He and Celia had been in town for just over a year, and most of their 'friends' were also business associates. Hardly confidants or people he could trust with a real conversation. With the true picture of his life.

When Evan and wife did go out together, it was generally for the sake of some grandiose event where they were expected to be on the entire evening, and hardly exchanged a word that didn't have to do with business. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he and CeCe had shared a quiet day alone, talked about their day, their thoughts. Just enjoyed each other's company.

He hadn't fully realized how desperate he was for the companionship, for the attention, for the connection until that day.

Sitting, talking, and joking around with another person – a person over the age of nine – was a welcomed change, and his sitter's intelligent sense of humor made for good company.

For an hour, a solitary hour, he'd had a reprieve. A break from the onerous monotony of his life. That was all he'd needed, all he'd really wanted. So a few impure thoughts had trickled in. A stray glance here, a carnal image there.

His mind wandered to the day on the lawn. The kids horseplaying around in the grass...a warm body pressed against him, smiling, sweet laughter...

Evan abruptly lifted his head. "What is wrong with you?" he muttered to himself. He blew out a cleansing breath. Putting the car in drive, he checked the mirrors then slowly pulled back onto the busy highway.

What was he thinking? He wasn't _that_ _guy_. He wasn't Walton Fallon, fantasizing about his 18 year old babysitter like some deviant. He was a married man! A respectable man. A family man!

A lonely man...a man sinking, fast. Though he doubted that his next fortune cookie would advise reveling in the company of a young girl as the answer.

Turning off at the next exit, Evan turned toward his office building, his mind and body reverting to their numb state. If Fallon needed the tapes today, he'd have to get it some other way.

"And so goes another long day at the office," Evan muttered, turning into the lot.

He pulled his Lexus into a space at the back of the towering structure. Choosing the shadiest spot he could find, hanging his head against the steering wheel, he wept, silently.

### Chapter 7

Saturday

Josie replaced the CD inside the sleeve. A waste. "Should have just stuck to Janis."

_What happened to_ good _music? And what was it with electronic echoing and sexy whispers in songs these days?_

Two ok songs does not a band nor an album make. A lesson learned, another twenty-five bucks down the drain and twenty minutes of her life she wanted back. She sat up in her bed and shook out her hair. Reaching for a rubber band she tied it into a ponytail.

_Serves me right._ She should have just bitten the bullet, dragged her achy tired body out of bed, and gone with the family to the park. She'd just been so exhausted, with everything that had gone on over the past few days – and with her not sleeping well, to boot. Luckily, Celia had been understanding about her decision. She wasn't sure, but Josie suspected it had something to do with the guilt the older woman felt about involving her sitter in the whole bake sale fiasco.

And that's exactly what it all had measured up to in the end.

After all of the upheaval and discord, the event wound up being a bust. Canceled, or more accurately, fallen apart just as quickly as it came together. She didn't get the entire story from Celia, but apparently, there had been some last-minute disagreements at the last planning meeting. One such disagreement had become so heated, it had ended in a near fight between two of the moms. Thoroughly fed up by then, Mrs. Sharp had walked out, quitting her post, and telling the members in attendance they could hold the event without her and her kids' involvement.

Today's picnic had been set up that morning as both a fill-in for the unrealized bake sale _and_ a reconciliatory olive branch gesture for all the parents involved. Though exhausted and exasperated Celia had chosen to go, if for no other reason then to get the kids out and about instead of letting them tear around the house, gorging on leftover sugar. They had wrapped up a good bit of the cookies, cakes and other confections and hauled them off to the picnic. The others, she and Mrs. S agreed, would be tossed away while the children were gone. Josie would certainly get to that soon enough.

The last thing she needed was the kids hopped up on the 'white stuff' with spring break on the horizon.

Rising from her bed, Josie walked into the bathroom, tying the messy ponytail at the back of her head into a tight bun as she gazed sidelong into the mirror. Her head throbbed, but her shoulders and neck felt too warm to leave her hair hanging across her back. She pulled open the medicine cabinet. Popping an aspirin into her mouth, she gazed down at her wrist. Just after 12:30 pm. Plenty of time to trash the sweets before the brood was due back at five.

Maybe she'd pack up a few of the wheat-free walnut cookies she'd baked and bring them back to her room as a treat...

The front door opened and closed with what seemed like added force and Josie flinched, a cup of water still in hand and on its way to her mouth.

Who could that be? It was too early for Mrs. S and the kids to be back already, wasn't it? Unless something had gone wrong. Ben and Seth together could be a handful, she knew. But had that been the front or side door she'd heard, becaus–

Hard footsteps tromped up the stairs hastily heading toward the second floor.

Josie swallowed hard, suddenly feeling little security with just the door closed, yet happy, all the same, for the barrier.

Listening intently, she heard a thump from what sounded like the Sharps' bedroom. She pressed her ear to the door. She could hear a deep voice but couldn't make out what it said.

She swallowed hard.

It could only be Mr. Sharp. The perceptibly masculine tone behind the muttering...the sound of a tie aggressively pulled from a crisp collar, a jacket being whisked off and tossed, the clunk of leather hitting a wall...

And then, silence.

Her heart skipped a beat. What the heck was happening? Hadn't he gone to the picnic?

Though Celia left on her own with Ben, Delia, and Seth, Josie had assumed that Evan would be meeting them there. It _was_ Saturday, after all. Did the man never stop working?

Josie held her breath, practically molding her ear into the bathroom door. He now stood in the hallway. She squeezed the knob, anticipating a rough knock at the door at any second.

In a rush, her mind began going over what she might have forgotten. Could she have misplaced something of his perhaps? Left something out or knocked something over? Perhaps one of the kids' toys had been left on the lawn? Or he'd accidentally flattened a tire running over Seth's bike? They were _her_ charges. Was she about to be chewed out for their carelessness?

_Thump! Thump! Thump_!

It sounded like something being thwacked against the wall. A shoe? No. Something fleshy, like a body part. A fist, perhaps?

Crap, he really _was_ mad.

But, this was silly. Why be scared? She'd done nothing wrong...right?

Thump!

Josie gulped, her heart now racing. Mr. Sharp wasn't the scream and yell type as far as she could tell, but he had been under stress lately. This she knew. A person could only take so much before the strain bubbled to the surface and caused him to...lash out at his babysitter?

She _was_ a convenient target, grilled cheese lunch or not.

Josie's thoughts came to an abrupt halt as she heard a long exhale, followed by a few inaudible words. Then, seconds later, what sounded like a sniffle. And then another.

She inched her sock-clad feet forward, carefully pressing her entire body against the door. The silence ended as Evan cleared his throat, sniffling a few more times before heading back down the stairs.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Waiting a few heartbeats before opening the door, Josie peeked out into the hall. Finding it clear, she tiptoed back to her room, closed the door all but a crack (just as she'd left it) and sat down on the bed.

She closed her eyes, shaking her head with a smile. What a wimp she was. It was almost comical. He'd probably come home after a rough day to have lunch, or relax a bit and stubbed his to or something. All the while she'd been in the bathroom anticipating the worst.

Josie thought she heard the soft sound of a radio or TV in the background, but couldn't tell which. She settled back onto her bed and picked up her CD player off of the nightstand. Whatever was going on, Mr. S probably just wanted some privacy, and she'd try to ensure that was what he got it. Though she didn't want him thinking she was hiding out, in truth, his anti-social preference worked just fine for her. The aspirin she'd taken had yet to fully kick in, and her stomach was starting to feel pre-menstrual.

Josie slid in Steve Halpern and soon found herself drifting off to a smooth soundscape.

She awoke about an hour later. Stretching her arms and legs she headed out into the hall. She still felt stiff, but her headache had receded some. God bless Steve Halpern.

_Maybe I should take a bath or go for a little walk_. Just sitting around made her feel so blah, and with the kids arriving home – she glanced down at her watch – in a few hours, she would need all her energy. Celia, she was sure, would be wiped.

A few steps from her room, an odd sound from downstairs caught Josie's ears, and she glanced over her shoulder toward the stairs. The TV – or radio – was still on. She could hear it murmuring in the background. But, what was the other noise? It sounded like...sniffling. But more than that, like the sound of someone crying.

Like _Mr._ _Sharp_ crying?

Just as she was about to continue on into the bathroom a thought had Josie smiling, a Cheshire cat grin spreading across her face as the wheels turned in her head. Why would he be crying? A sad song, maybe? A touching scene from a movie he liked?

_A sentimental man. Great, just one more quality to drool over._ But she just had to see; had to know what could bring a manly man like Evan Sharp to tears. She had to.

Creeping gingerly toward the stairs, Josie started her quiet descent. She took one step at a time, pausing on each to see if she'd been discovered before taking the next. When she reached the first landing, she crouched down, peeking through the polished wooden balusters.

It had been the television, not the radio in the background. The actress from some commercial for a 'new and enhanced' drain cleaner was on the screen, smiling, self-satisfied in her obligatory white blouse and beige cotton Dockers. Not exactly tear-worthy. Perhaps the program he'd been watching was just on intermission.

Quietly she sat down on the landing, her long legs spilling over the next step. She'd come this far, why not see it to the end. Besides, her amusement and curiosity aside, she felt a nagging need to know...what _was_ it she was hearing and seeing right now?

It _had_ been him weeping, that she could now say for sure. His body sat hunched over, his sobs steady yet wavering in sound and intensity. What could it be? There existed certain scenes and images where society deemed it acceptable for even a man's man to shed a tear, sure. Everyone knew this. But still she was...unsure. Something felt off here. Wrong.

The program returned from intermission, and Josie leaned in. To her surprise, what she saw was hardly a tearjerker. Some sweaty muscle-covered badass ran panting across a collapsing bridge. At his side, a blonde in semi-perfect make-up, arms flailing, tried desperately to keep up as explosions detonated in the background.

Though a sad sight, not exactly sentimental.

Josie rose to her knees and peeked over the top of the banister, her eyes now squarely on Evan's huddled body. On closer inspection, he barely appeared to be watching the screen in front of him. His sobs were quiet, though his shoulders still shook from them every so often. He looked as if he were trying to keep them under control, and just barely succeeding.

Like that, what had before peaked Josie's curiosity began pulling violently at her heartstrings. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong to have this man crying like this, so openly, in the main room of his house where anyone could have come home and found him.

But...was this her business? Any of this? Would she be overstepping her babysitter boundaries by even inquiring? He was an adult, she, just some silly babysitter. What did she know of his affairs, his problems? And what if, in response to her interest, he put her in her place? It would be mortifying. Not to mention, hurtful as hell. She respected Evan Sharp, liked him. To be told to shoo off or yelled at like a nosy child would just kill her.

All the same, what kind of person just sat there being 'entertained' while another person suffered? Young girl or not, she wasn't some stranger, nor was he. She'd been invited to be part of the man's family. So what if she was physically attracted to him? She was a human being; knew what it was like to hurt, to be in pain. How could she not try to do something...say _something_?

It was only right.

Inhaling deeply, Josie stiffened her back and tucking quietly completed her descent and entered the living room.

### Chapter 8

Josie swallowed a few times, wetting her throat and lips as she neared the couch where Evan sat. She stopped just outside of his periphery, unsure how to proceed. She could practically feel the cloud of melancholy around him. She watched in agony as he made repeated attempts to collect and compose himself – sniffling back tears, fiercely wiping at his eyes. At one point, he balled his hand and bit into his fist trying to suppress the sounds of his sobs.

She felt herself blinking back tears and tried to stand strong. It was hard. To see this tower of strength and stability, this good-hearted guy, in such a state was jarring. Painful. Like a child seeing their parent cry for the first time. His vulnerability tore at her.

"Mr. S?" Josie forced out. Her voice was barely audible but it garnered a response.

In an instant, Evan's head jerked, a look of pure shock on his ruddy face as he turned to face her.

She fought the instinct to back away and head for her room, aborting her self-appointed 'mission.' But something made her stay put. Before she lost her nerve, Josie spoke again. "I'm sorry...I, I didn't mean to sneak up on you or intrude, it's just...I heard you crying and thought maybe I could help or..."

She'd hardly stuttered out the last word when a look of pain came over Evan's face, and he slowly returned to his hunched over position, staring down at the carpet.

Good job, Dr. Phil, now what?

She cursed herself silently. Maybe he did just want to be left alone. Maybe all she'd accomplished here was thoroughly embarrassing the man. Maybe leaving him be was the right thing, after all.

Josie took a small step back.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She paused.

"I...it's been." He cleared his throat. "...a difficult period and..." He hung his head as if in shame.

_So much like a lost little boy, shrinking into himself._ She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a man cry like this.

He wiped his cheeks and eyes with the back of his hand and cleared his throat again. "I'm sorry. I'm fine."

Josie had come around the side of the sofa while Evan spoke, and when he'd paused, she sat down next to him on the couch. He gazed over at her and she froze, her body tight with nerves. His face wore a look of intense concern and her heart pounded with uncertainty. But, even in Josie's indecision, the need to comfort overrode all else.

Sliding closer, she placed her hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to apologize, Mr. S. It's ok."

Boy, had that sounded a lot less silly in her head. What if the man just discovered that he had an inoperable tumor? Or what if Celia or one of the kids was hurt? But no, why would he be here if that were the case. Besides, he'd already said...it was something else. Something more personal to him, it seemed?

Pulling him closer, Josie leaned into Evan's shoulder.

For long seconds, they sat side by side, hips touching. She could feel his body quiet as the minutes passed. After a moment, she rested her cheek on his slumped shoulder in a gesture of consolation. "It'll all be ok. Whatever it is. I just know it."

Evan turned toward her and she looked up at him, offering a sympathetic smile.

He had tears in his eyes, a plaintive, almost confused expression on his face.

For a long time he just gazed back at her, as if searching her face, his eyes gliding across each feature, toward her mouth, up to her hair, then back to her eyes...

Suddenly, without warning, Evan's arm closed around her waist, pulling her hard into his chest. Josie gasped, startled, his face only inches from hers. His eyes devoured her, the sadness still lingering between them.

For Josie didn't know how long, they remained that way. In that locked position, her breathing shallow as he examined her, absorbed her, consumed her and breathed her in. All the while his grip while firm remained loose, the option to withdraw from his embrace there if she desired it.

Slowly, Josie breathed a deep exhale, her lungs and chest heaving to recover from the lack of oxygen. She closed her eyes, and felt him pull back a little. She reached behind her and grasped the arm at her waist, reaffirming its presence there, then leaning in, brushed her lips across his.

As if surrendering his last shred of self-restraint, Evan took over.

His mouth took hers with a ferocity that had her lips throbbing from the force of it. And in an instant, Josie was lowered onto her back, her arm brushing the couch cushions as she reclined. She whimpered into his mouth, at once aroused by him yet uncertain.

His kiss was strong. Like him, powerful, masterful, as if he was trying to draw the very life out of her with every oral caress. But she was unsure, afraid, what if...what if..? If Celia and the kids came home early? If someone found out? If...if..?

All thoughts came to a screeching halt when his hand slid from her waist and with determined skill started massaging her breast. It was like every cell of Jose's body ignited. His fingers and hands trailed aching fire across her skin. Kneading her breast, Evan worked soft kisses around her ear, across her nose, down her chin, her neck, seeming to savor every taste and touch. Gradually, he lowered his full weight on top of her, slowly grooving his body into hers and lifting her knees to cradle his slightly gyrating hips.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, his voice muffled against the nape of her neck. "Your neck, your breasts...your nipples...so hard and firm between my fingers..."

His words made her shudder, Evan's appraisal of this part of her body suddenly placing the image of her mother into Josie's mind.

_How about someone_ else's _husband, Mom?_

How rapidly this had all turned. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, knew it was wrong. Her intent had been innocent: to offer comfort, consolation. A shoulder to lean. That was...until he'd held her, pressed her close. Kissed her.

Evan Sharp had kissed her, called her beautiful. Awkward, dorky Josie Kendall, the freckle-faced girl with frizzy hair and no social life. Beautiful, the touch of his fingers awakening her need. And just like that, her body had offered no resistance. All logical thoughts, worries and apprehensions falling away, easily subdued by her response to him.

No fight.

She felt wild. Untamed and unleashed. And beautiful. And right now...she didn't think she could stop this if she wanted to.

Josie reached back and yanked the elastic tie from her hair, letting the curly tresses unwind around her head as Evan lowered himself down her body, his cheek skimming across the taut buds protruding from her blouse. His mouth moved over her left breast, suckling her flesh through the material and her body jerked, arching into his mouth. He lapped at her nipple through the wet fabric and she gasped, grabbing Evan's head, pulling him closer.

Slowly he kissed and caressed his way down her body, lowering his body and dragging the zipper of her jacket as he went. She slipped her arms from its encasing with her eager assistance as he ran his hands across her stomach, down her hips, dipping between her legs, and Josie whimpered aloud, pressing her jean-clad hips toward his hand. His fingers slipped under her shirt, tracing the soft lacy underside of her bra. She grabbed his hands as he ran his palms across her sensitive nipples, making her shiver. His mouth returned to hers, kissing her hard once more before pulling the back of her shirt from the hem of her pants, and yanking it up over her head with a hard jerk.

With equal haste, he shimmied her still-buttoned pants down her hips.

She lay there, her chest heaving in anticipation, goose bumps forming on her skin from the exposure. Her underwear felt scant, tight against her skin, her moistened bra revealing the curves of her breasts. Staring up at him as he took her in, and she fought the instinct to cover her body – the flaws and imperfections now laid out and on display.

"Sooo beautiful." Evan gazed up at her, a near-awe in his voice. His fingertips traced lazy S-formations across Josie's bare stomach, and she shivered, panting, as Evan leaned forward to follow the trail with tender, tasting kisses.

Frozen in place, all she could do was watch, excitement and fear stealing her breath, her body trembling harder each time his tongue tickled her skin. She slipped her thumb past her lips and bit down, trying to administer some control over the throbbing arousal overtaking her body.

Evan tilted his gaze toward her, and a sexy smile spread across his face, pushing all self-conscious thoughts of fat thighs, of awkward curves and unattractive flesh from her mind. He nipped at her knees, kissing his way down her leg, suctioning the flesh of her inner thigh, the fever working its way across her body, consuming all else.

Closing her legs, Evan turned Josie onto her side so that the curve of her hip was exposed and her knees faced the back of the sofa. At first she didn't understand what he intended to do. Just then he leaned into her, kissing his way down her side, running his tongue along the smooth curve of her hip, licking the edge of her panties, as if tasting them. Finding her mouth again, Evan lapped at her lips, teasing her tongue with his while his hands slowly slid the material away, tossing her panties amid the cushions.

Though almost completely exposed beneath him now, Josie felt bold, willingly lost in her lust, in the power she drew from Evan's embrace. And so when he said, "Scooch back, lovely," forcing her to sit upright until her back rested against the long arm of the sofa, she did.

His body arched over hers as he yanked off his shirt and undershirt in two abrupt tugs, revealing the beautifully contoured shoulders, carved torso and powerful arms she'd seen that day on the lawn, and she had the sudden desire to taste every inch of him.

Before she could move to reach for him, Evan shifted, bending her knees and spreading them wide as he worked his way between her thighs once more, his eyes never leaving her now-exposed entrance. Her clit pulsed in lockstep with her racing heartbeat. The width of his shoulders forced her legs up and around his neck. Their gazes unbroken, he opened his mouth, digging his tongue inside her wet lips, and she almost screamed. The tickling throb and heat of his mouth immediately enveloped her.

"Ohhhh, my God." Josie sighed, her voice trembling, nails clawing at the cushions at her side.

God, it was intense. Too much. She never knew anything could feel this good.

He moaned between long, lingering licks and she hissed. "Mmmm, you taste soo good. Soooo [lick] goooood [lick]." Flattening his tongue, he worked the tender nub with expert motion and force.

She gasped for air, digging her ass into the cushions, her body wracked with hard jerking tremors. Her position made her clit protrude from her lips, and he was merciless to its exposure. She grabbed the back of Evan's head to steady herself. Moving one hand beneath them, he cupped her ass, leaning her pelvis toward him, intensifying his attention to her glistening pink pearl.

"Oh fu–" The feeling was indescribable, like every ounce of blood, every nerve in her body had been drawn into this tiny bit of flesh. Squirming, she bit her lip to hold back her curse, the sensations overwhelming, Evan's motions blistering in their invasion. It had never been this intense, felt this good playing with herself in her room.

Brad, eat your flippin' heart out!

Pulling down her bra, his hands moved to cup her breasts, tweaking her hard nipples between two fingers and she covered his hands with her own, his tongue never ceasing, never sparing her more than a moment's liberation from his frenzied attention. Like a man possessed,

Josie struggled for air, her breath coming in shallow pants. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." She whimpered into the cushion near her head. Then grabbing firm hold, forced it into her mouth, choking back an urgent scream.

She was unsure how much more she could take – wanting more, yet drowning in the feeling. Frantic, Josie twisted her hips seeking to gain respite from Evan's lapping mouth, but feeling her shifting, he wrapped his fingers around her hips, settling her back into the center of the couch, and against his mouth.

Suddenly, Josie's breath caught. She grabbed the sides of his head, eyes squeezing shut, mouth agape struggling for breath as her orgasm washed over her entire body like a wave. Dramatically jerking forward, her breasts grazed Evan's forehead, his thumbs still toying with her peaked nipples, drawing out the sensation.

"Oh God." Josie laughed, shaking her head in disbelief as her tremors continued. "Oh mi-God."

Evan kissed her inner thighs, his mouth trailing up to the insides of her knees. "Mmm hmm." He nuzzled his cheek against her chest, kissing along her neck as Josie's body slowly unclenched and she fell back against the couch arm.

"Geez." It was all she could manage. Gathering her bearings slightly, she attempted to pull her legs from Evan's shoulders just to have his hands fasten to the front of her thighs.

"Not so fast, baby," he taunted, his hand slipping between her legs, parting the lips of her pussy. Leaning in, he replaced it with his mouth. "...not nearly done with you, my sweet."

Josie's body tensed, still in a state of exhaustion, she gaped at him in panicky awe. "Unh-unh. No no no no." She squirmed. But before she could form a true protest, he'd sucked her entire nub into his mouth, nursing it with fixed intensity, and evoking another wave of spasms.

"Oohhh God, Mr. S," she squeaked, her back arching. "Pleeeease...I don't think I can take anym–"

Unable to finish her thought, Josie's arms wound behind her, grabbing hold of the cushions, the beginnings of another orgasm building inside of her as Evan's mouth drove vertical and horizontal paths across her clit.

"God help me," she whispered to herself, pulling the nearest pillow toward her mouth, preparing for more, and hanging on for dear life.

~~~~~~~~

It was still afternoon. Or so she thought. Right now, if you'd told her she'd been transported to medieval Britain at midnight, she'd have taken it in stride. She'd have had to. The way Josie felt, she could barely string two words together – unless those words were 'oh' and 'God' in close ragged succession – moreover a coherent thought.

But, at least her headache was gone. With little blood flowing anywhere but between her thighs and heaving lungs, she wasn't surprised. She could swear she was starting to black out.

Evan had brought her to orgasm again and again, relentless in his execution. His forearm soon finding a comfortable position across her stomach, he'd held her in place whenever her movement threatened to remove his mouth. He'd licked, lapped and sucked her throbbing cunt until she was sure he had memorized every nerve and ridge. Until she could have pulled every hair from his head. Until she was certain she couldn't take anymore, just to then, inconceivably, feel herself tumbling toward another climax, drawing him in for more.

That was until, in the wake of her most recent ruinous apex, Josie heard him murmur, "Mmmmm, soo good. Celia never lets me go down on her anymore. I could eat this pussy all...day...long."

The mention of Mrs. S had been sobering, effectively shattered Josie's arousal and shaken her out of her state of levity, her guilt quickly crashing down around her like a caved-in rooftop.

Josie struggled. Placing her hand over her throbbing slit, she gently blocked Evan's mouth with the other. "Mr. S? Mr. S., wait. We have to stop...please."

"Oh." Evan pulled back abruptly, wiping his face, a look of innocence and shame radiating from his pointed gaze. "I'm...I'm sorry, Josie. I didn't mean to... Did I hurt you?" He looked concerned.

More like the exact opposite. "Uh-uh, you didn't. It's ok," Josie replied. Sitting upright, she lowered both feet onto the cool living room carpet, her gaze on her lap as she combed nervously through what she knew must have been the mess of red curls on her head. "I just..."

"No need to explain," Evan said. He sank further into his end of the couch.

For what felt like hours, Josie sat there, completely careless of her nudity, her core still throbbing from the all-consuming attention, the weight of what she'd done slowly taking hostage of her thoughts. She glanced over at Evan at the other end of the couch, down turned gaze mimicking her own.

What had she been she thinking? This was Evan Sharp. Mrs. Sharp's _husband_ and the head of a family she professed to love and care for. Yet here she was, behaving like an ungrateful little tramp, betrayed by her raging hormones and that stupid fantasy ever-present at the back of her mind. While he had..?

What did it matter what he did. He was a man and had done what men do. What she'd allowed him to do. What was that saying? A man's only as loyal as his options? And didn't they all have schoolgirl fantasies of one form or another? But _she_...she could have said no, could have pushed him away. He'd given her the opportunity. So why hadn't she?

Why?

~~~~~~~~

Evan watched her from a slouched position unsure what to do with himself. The truth of what he'd done hovered around him like a cold shroud. He'd taken advantage of a young girl's sympathies, her natural curiosities, her kindness. He was a pig, and a cheat. Of that there was no doubt, no avoiding.

When he'd turned to her he'd only wanted comfort, to be comforted. Catharsis in sharing physical contact with someone else – a hug, soothing care – if only for a moment. Before he could control it, his emotion, his desperation had enveloped him. The percolating pot had spilled over, and Josie, reaching for the steaming pan, God help her, had been burnt. Followed his lead, into the lustful chasm.

There were no excuses for his behavior. Not today, not on Tuesday. Nor did he excuse that, even now, gazing at Josie's profile – her smooth legs, the plush curve of her ass, the mane of auburn curls flowing around her back and shoulders – he wanted her still. Even now, the desire to touch her again, to again feel her as deeply as he'd tasted her throbbed just below the surface. The desire to caress, to watch her take pleasure from him, giving into every sensation, every undiscovered nerve and sensitivity; to watch her come with him thrusting inside her, her taut little pussy wrapped around him...

He'd spoken a half-truth when he said that Celia hadn't shared this intimacy in ages. The full story was more severe. In truth, it had been over a year since his wife had let him do more than kiss her – since before they'd moved to Illinois from Seattle. In that time and in the face of his wife's rejections Evan had suppressed those longings. Work, exercise, his kids and more work, those were his primary outlets; banal and unchanging. And today, his body and mind had rebelled.

The silence was tense. Ashamed, Evan shifted a little to accommodate his still sensitive cock, trying to hide the irrepressible. He'd offended her enough with this reckless actions.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine," was Josie's curt reply. She stared straight ahead, one hand clasped in her lap, the other crossed over her body.

Evan began collecting her discarded clothing. It felt ridiculous. Hypocritical – like closing the door to the stable once the horse had already escaped. "We should dress...clean up a bit. The kids might be home soon and–"

"I know." Her tone was terse. "And there's no need to take up a 'parental' tone with me, Evan. Not after what we just did."

She turned to him, and he had to steel his nerve not to look away. In that moment she seemed different. Josie's hands had fallen from her body and where before she'd been shy to expose herself to him, she appeared completely unselfconscious of her bared body. Her gaze, steely and unwavering, held his.

She was right. He had been trying to play the role of the 'controlled adult.' And he owed her more than a façade. Much more.

Evan turned to face her. "Josie this was my fault. I, I took advantage and I'm completely aware the–"

She reached out to him across the couch, whispering, "Don't."

He blinked once, his eyes wide in anticipation of her next words.

"I knew what I was doing." She paused, her gaze unwavering. "I wanted what happened today. I kissed you, remember? I knew we shouldn't just as much as you did, Evan."

His breathing quickened. "But...Josie, yo–"

"I wanted your hands on my skin...your hard body pressed against mine..." She reclined slowly into the couch. "...your taste in my mouth..."

Evan felt himself instinctually shrink back a little in response, his breath catching.

She spread her legs slightly, her eyes on his as she cupped her breasts. His gaze fell her mouth as she wet two fingers then rubbed them across her bare nipple. "And if what you're trying to conceal there indicates anything," she glanced down at his lap, then back up at him, "you did too."

Josie placed her fingers on her pussy, running them up and down her slit and hunger slowly uncoiled in Evan's body. He couldn't move. In a matter of seconds, what had started as fear, turning then to shock and amazement had morphed once again. The feeling now coursing through him, lust. Strong and searing. Pangs of desire bubbling just beneath the surface and retaking their steady pulse in his body.

"Mmmmmm, this feels sooo gooood, Mr. S. Really...reeeally good." Josie arched her back, her eyes closing. She draped one leg along the couch, allowing Evan a full view of her pink-tinged arousal.

"Oh God, Josie, I...you're just...so lovely." He spoke in a breathless sigh. His hands moved to cup his groin.

Lifting her head, Josie opened her eyes, watching as Evan's hand disappeared inside his pants, stroking in time with her.

"Am I?" She smiled teasingly, tucking her lip between her teeth. "Watch me. Watch me come, Evan," she whispered throwing her head back. She slid a single finger inside her wet cunt, furiously rubbing her hot little nub with the other hand, her entire body trembling.

He sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuuuck. That's it, pleeeease. Come for me, beautiful. I want you to come so hard," he begged through gritted teeth.

The speed of his stroke increased, and he felt himself getting close.

"Unh, unh, _uuuuuhhh_ ," Josie cried out clutching her breast, her body jerking with its release. He came hard, nearly collapsing into himself.

Josie smiled, watching him come down from the last tremors of his climax, then crawling toward him, gently kissed his warm cheek, settling at his side. Turning his head, he placed a light kiss on her forehead, an easy smile appearing on his face as he reclined against the back of the couch.

The sweet scent of her hair wafted around them, the warmth of her curvaceous frame. He could have taken her again, right then and there, and the thought shot a pang of guilt through him. He sat abruptly forward, putting immediate space between them on the couch.

_Jesus, what's wrong with me_?

He rose from the couch as Josie grabbed for the rumpled jeans, shirt and hoodie that he'd collected, using her clothes to cover herself.

"I should change...put dinner on." He walked around the couch, heading for the stairs, and then turned back.

Out of her field of view, he could tell she thought he'd exited the room. Closing her eyes, she took a deep shaky breath. It tore at his heart. Approaching the couch again, he leaned in just as she looked up to meet his smile. He placed a light kiss on her temple, holding her gaze.

"I meant it. You're beautiful, Josie."

She smiled up at him, and the warmth parted the clouds as he headed toward the stairs.

### Chapter 9

"Mama, I want to have a campout," Seth declared between loud slurps of spaghetti.

"First, wipe your mouth," Celia said, passing him a napkin and planting a quick kiss on his forehead. The space around his mouth looked like he'd been licking a tomato-colored wall. Josie smiled, taking a sip of water. The boy could make a mess out of just about any food he got his hands (or face) into.

This was Sunday dinner. A hectic week was finally coming to a close just in time to make room for the next stretch of turbulence, and everyone but the children seemed to be running on empty. Delia, Ben and Seth would have the next week off, and with the warming weather, they seemed intent on squeezing as much as possible into the time allotted them.

"Just you? You wouldn't take us with you?" Evan leaned back in his chair, feigning hurt.

"No, dad, _all_ of us. A family campout," Seth persisted.

"Yeah!" Ben chimed in. "Can we dad? With the bears and the bobcats?"

"And the baby deers!" Delia smiled looking up at her dad. He smiled back at her, grabbing her nose playfully. She giggled and reached for his face, mimicking the gesture.

"We have to go to Yosemite! That's the coolest place to camp. Mac told me him and his family went there and stayed a whole week!" Seth explained, his mouth still surrounded by blotches of red sauce.

Mac was Seth's running buddy. A makeshift partner in crime. He was also a kid known for stretching the truth for the sake of a good story.

"Could I get a gun, dad? We could hunt and kill our own food and then cook it for dinner," Ben piped up, his eyes wide.

"Not the deeries though, right daddy? We wouldn't shoot any baby deeries, right?" pleaded Delia.

"No, honey, 'course not." Josie put her arm around Delia, giving her a comforting squeeze. The little girl leaned into her wrapping her little arms around Josie's waist.

"Josie won't let you kill Bambi boys so..." She stuck her tongue out in her brothers' direction.

Celia looked at Josie holding her daughter, and then at Evan, smiling at his daughter's response to her brothers, and Josie could see Celia's brow furrow. Josie pulled back, placing both hands near her plate.

What had that been about? Nothing, most likely. Josie was probably just being hypersensitive – after what happened yesterday, Josie had reason to be. Boy, did she.

"We won't kill Bambi, the bobcats will. Grrrrr!" Ben lunged across the table at his sister, baring his teeth like an angry animal, and his tiny fingers curved into pretend claws.

"Grrrrrr! Snarl! Bite!" mimicked Seth, chomping his teeth.

"Stop it, guys," Celia admonished. "Give us a break, ok?"

"But it's true, mom," Seth informed, "it's the laws of the jungle. Bobcats eat deer. Bambi's especially. Grrr!" he began again.

"You know boys," Josie said, moving her food around on her plate, "bobcats are carnivores, meaning they eat all types of animals. Just about anything meaty, really. We humans are _meaty_ animals too, you know. And in fact, I've heard that Yosemite bobcats, in particular, have been known to gnaw on a tasty little boy or two when the mood takes them."

Both boys went silent, their mouths slightly ajar, all four eyes on her.

"That's not true, is it mom?" Seth whispered to the parent closest to him.

A big grin flew across Delia's little face as she sat upright in her chair again. "Is too!" she refuted. "And they'd eat you all up. Just the boys."

"Is that true, dad? Bobcats wouldn't eat us, would they?" Ben faced his dad holding his fork tight, like his own little spear, desperation on his face.

"Let's finish dinner, ok guys? We're all safe here," Celia said, a hint of consternation on her face.

"Look, gang," Evan took over, "Yosemite is too far, I'm afraid. But hey, we could camp out here, in our backyard. That would be fun! Roast marshmallows, cook our food outside, tell ghost stories..."

"And no bobcats," Delia's tiny voice added, nodding her head with authority.

"And no bobcats," Evan echoed.

"Do you really think this is a good idea, Evan? I mean, there's so much going on already. I'm thoroughly exhausted following this whole bake sale mess, and since I'd be the one doing all the work here, including actually going to work _every_ day–"

"Celia." He glared at her, then gave a quick peripheral glance at the kids, who sat there, staring between both parents, clearly unsure how to take what they were seeing.

"Come on, guys. Let's clear the table, and then I'll show you the surprise I have for you," Josie interjected, hoping to break the tension.

While in her room, she'd come across a few treasures she'd forgotten she had, tucked away in the compartments of her overnight bag: a Gameboy with two cartridges taped to the front and back, some marbles and Jacks, and an old can of Pick-Up-Sticks from when she was a kid. She'd emptied them out onto her bureau this morning, thinking that with all the more advanced gadgets kids now had access to, the trio might get a hoot out of the near relics. Even if the toys didn't go over well, at present, any distraction from the current situation was a good thing, she figured.

And her plan seemed to be working. Josie had barely finished her sentence before Ben and Seth bolted from the table, their plates and cups in hand as they scrambled toward the kitchen, leaving their sister, and their parents' budding argument, behind.

Josie stood, gathering plates, utensils and condiments as Celia and Evan continued their conversation.

"Look, the kids, Josie and I will prepare everything we'd need, _and_ clean up. And it would only be one night in the backyard. Just all six of us." Evan spoke in hushed tones.

Celia sat silent, rubbing one temple. Rising, Delia scampered over to her mother's side, carefully placing her plate back on the table, and nuzzling up her mother's side. She was met with a hug and kiss on the forehead.

"Josie, you don't have to do that."

"It's fine, Mrs. S. I don't mind."

"Can't we camp, mommy?" Delia said, turning pleading eyes up at her mother. "Just this once? No bobcats and we'll clean up all the messes the boys make."

Josie heard a fork hit the ground and turned to see the boys in question standing in the doorway that led into the kitchen. The hopeful looks on their little faces indicated that they waited for their mother's response.

Celia watched them and smiled into her daughter's hair. From across the table, Josie swear she saw unshed tears in her eyes. Josie's brow furrowed and she looked around at the rest of the family, wondering if anyone else was seeing what she was.

"Ok ok," Celia answered with a sigh. "We'll have the campout. Next Saturday."

Delia smiled, hugging her mother tighter.

"All right!" Ben slapped his little brother a high-five as they roughed each other up, their original Yellowstone excursion seemingly all but forgotten.

Delia squirmed out from her mother's embrace and picked up her own plate, carrying it toward the kitchen. The boys let her pass, following her inside as Josie tailed behind.

"Great. Everyone's happy."

Josie heard Celia get up from the table, the back her chair smacking into the blinds as she rose. She entered the kitchen, carrying her own dinnerware and Josie gave her a wide berth as Celia rinsed her dishes in the sink and shoved them in the open dishwasher.

Josie continued clearing the table, bringing in placemats and serving dishes. Evan remained in the living room, quietly alternating between his phone and clearing crumbs from the table. Josie was drying her hands near the kitchen sink when, after a few moments, she felt eyes on her. She gazed up from the sink to see Celia watching her. Almost as if she were quietly surveying her. Josie smiled, then quickly trained her gaze back to the sink, her heart silently pounding in her chest.

When the older woman finally spoke, Josie nearly dropped the glass she'd been rinsing.

"Jos? I just wanted to say thanks." Celia approached her and Josie turned to face her.

Thank her? Oh God.

"To thank you for helping keep it all together. We appreciate it. All of us. Right, guys?" The boys groaned and Delia jumped up and down with excitement, seconding their mother's endorsement before all three headed back into the dining room, one after the next, to collect more dinnerware.

Josie smiled. "Of course, Mrs. S." She shrugged. "It's why I'm here."

Guilt gnawed at her as she forced out the words. The attorney looked worn. Not just tired, but thoroughly rung out. Up close she could now see the small dark-colored bags under Celia's eyes only partly masked by a well-blended layer of foundation. The woman was running on empty, and what had she done? Gone and made it worse by being a tramp, Josie thought.

Done what she had...in _Celia's own home_...just to be thanked.

With a smile, Celia gave Josie's arm a friendly squeeze, then left her alone and as confused as Josie had ever been.

"We love Josie, Mom," Delia called after her mother, re-entering the kitchen. She opened the fridge placing the salad dressing inside the door facing backward. "She's cool."

Evan brought in the last of the dishes, his nervous glance following his wife's back up the stairs.

"We've settled it, Dad. Ben and I will be cooking steaks at the campout. Real meat for real men," Seth said, trotting into the kitchen.

"We'll see guys. Why don't you take your sister into the living room and clean up some of those toys strewn all over the room while we finish in here?"

"But our surpriiise," Delia pleaded.

"I'll bring it in in just a few minutes, guys. As long as those toys are put away," Josie said.

All three headed for different parts of the room. They rushed around, collecting only their own dolls, action figures, cards and other items off the floor, and throwing them into separate piles near the couch. Evan chuckled, looking on as he crouched in front of the dishwasher. The boys had placed their cups and plates in at odd angles, as was their custom. He jerked a fork wedged near the back of the bottom rack, placed it inside the silverware basket and shut the door.

He glanced over her shoulder at the kids then addressed her. "Sorry about all that." Brows furrowed, Evan stared down at the floor as he spoke,.

"About what?"

"About..." He took a step closer, speaking in low tones. "About tonight's flare up, between Celia and I. You know, she's...under a lot of stress at work, and with all the hours she put into a bake sale that didn't happen and everything else going on...I just wanted to apologize for the scene."

"Don't worry about it. You don't have to explain, I'm not one of the kids...remember?"

Staring up at him, Josie began running through the events of the previous day, and her skin tingled. She could feel the blush break out across her cheeks. "Remember?"

Lowering her head, she gazed up at him between her lashes and Evan cocked an eyebrow, throwing a brief glance over her head and into the living room. She followed his gaze to where Ben and Seth sat channel-flipping while Delia was sifting through her collection of dolls, speaking to each, individually. When she gazed back at him, the look in Evan's eyes had transformed from one of caution to one of heavy-lidded intrigue.

Josie shot him a wicked little grin and slowly ran her finger across her collar bone, down the side of one breast, then brushed past him. She pressed the button, starting the machine, her pulse racing. When she turned to face him, he'd moved to stand in front her. He walked her backward and she gasped as her back met the counter. He settled his hands on the hard surface, caging her in and Josie felt a bulge press into her stomach. "I remember," he whispered, his face nearing her mouth. "Very, _very_ clearly."

Josie licked her lips, gazing up at him.

"Jesus Josie." A nervous laugh rumbled from his lips.

He wasn't the only one surprised at her behavior. Josie couldn't believe she was acting this way, flirting with the man with his kids in the next room! _His wife upstairs for Christ sakes_.

This was what he did. What his touch, his words had broken free in her – a woman she didn't recognize, and who could barely control herself when he was near. Behavior that only days ago would have disgusted her to her core. Yet here she was.

"Dad, Ben won't let me have a turn with the remote," Seth called out, snapping them both out of their interlude.

Evan backed away and darted toward the cabinets on the opposite side of the room as Josie turned to face the sink. She glanced over at him and bit back a laugh as he pulled his shirt down over the swell at the front of his pants.

"All right guys, toys away," Evan hollered out, exiting into the dining room. "And if you can't share, then it's up to your room."

"Awwww, Dad," the boys said in concert.

"I didn't do anything, daddy," complained Delia.

"And what about our surprise? We haven't gotten it yet," Seth argued.

Collecting herself, Josie headed into the living room. "I'll show you upstairs. Let's get these toys up to your rooms, ok?"

The kids rushed ahead, arms full as they scurried up the stairs.

She could feel Evan's eyes on her back as she mounted the stairs behind them, and consciously had to calm herself.

That had been a close one. Boy, did she need to get a grip.

### Chapter 10

This was it. Her last week. It was already lining up to be a doozy and Josie wouldn't have had it any other way.

A torrent of emotions and thoughts flooded Josie's mind at all times. Sadness, joy, anxiety, regret...desire. Some days she felt that first week had passed too soon, others not fast enough. She awoke each morning exhausted yet energized – most often, in response to a shove or a bouncing child on her bed. And she loved it; loved every moment with the kids. Loved waking up to their smiling faces and excited hopes and plans for the day. Loved having them home, telling her their thoughts, seeking her attention and opinions on things. At times, their boundless energy could be a handful, sure, but it was on those occasions she reminded herself why she was there. It was worth it. _They_ were worth it, and she could hardly ever say she was bored.

Yet even with the long days and content pasttimes, what weighed most heavily on Josie's body, mind and heart was Evan.

There had been no further contact since their close call in the kitchen on Sunday, yet what had happened remained on a constant loop in her mind. At night, when she was so tired she could barely muster the energy to put on her nightgown, she'd re-live both incidents, feeling a mix of guilt and desire all over again. It was surreal, like watching the movie of some young girl's slippery descent into debauchery. And it sickened her. The girl she looked at in the mirror every morning didn't feel like her, and Josie honestly didn't know who this new inhabitant of her body was. Or how to get the old one back.

It was incomprehensible. In the span of one week she'd become a wanton tramp? Dorky little Josie Kendall! What had gotten into her since entering this house? It wasn't possible. Even if the thought of Evan's touch sent her heart racing...made her want to say and do things that days ago she would have never said or done. It wasn't right. She _knew_ this.

And what she said! All the things she'd said to him! To Mr. Sharp! Touching herself in front of him, climaxing while he watched! What the hell had she been _thinking_?

He'd been so gentle. So sweet. He'd even called her beautiful. He hadn't had to, hadn't been forced into saying the word or been coerced into sounding like he meant it. And she had encouraged him; given herself willingly, that much was clear.

So where did that leave her now?

Josie, the mistress? Josie, the wanton sex goddess? Josie...the home wrecker.

_Was that what he wanted?_ Even if she didn't think Evan had planned what happened (and she didn't) he could by now have easily drawn his own conclusions. Now that she thought about it, it made sense that he would.

Noble attorney or not, he was still a man, wasn't he? One with a libido and hormones. _He_ had sought her out after dinner on Sunday. It was him who'd approached her _after_ Celia had gone upstairs – him who'd checked for any signs of his wife before engaging her, just like a cheater would. And when she'd started in, he hadn't exactly resisted. Maybe in his mind this was all serendipity. A fortuitous opportunity dropped into his lap after a year of her serving as his sitter, and he was merely taking advantage. He was a lawyer, wasn't that what they did? Like any shrewd opportunist, taking advantage of a free meal served up: his live-in babysitter turned teenage tramp. A naive schoolgirl plaything to get his kicks with for a while. Of course. Lucky him.

But surprise, surprise, Josie wasn't that girl. She'd prove him wrong. Moreover, she'd prove herself wrong.

~~~~~~~~

Today was the day. Tuesday. As of now, Josie and the kids were officially on shared vacation, and Delia, Seth and Ben were wasting no time.

After a quick breakfast of fruit and cereal, they'd _demanded_ their babysitter ring up a few of their friends, and like that, they were off. Josie had arranged their pick-ups, seen each off, then returned to her room without eating. She wasn't very hungry, or in the mood to go out. And, the sound of the rain pelting the shingles of the roof informed that she wasn't missing much in the way of blue skies.

She threw on what was becoming somewhat of a uniform – jeans, a T-shirt, and a zip-up hoodie – and decided to straighten up. The plan was to spend the day tidying the upstairs, reading and listening to music until the children returned home.

To keep to _herself_.

Celia was at work. About to go into a meeting, she'd called briefly after Josie had texted her about the kids' whereabouts for the day. She would be home late, as usual. As for Mr. Sharp, Josie had no idea, and tried desperately not to think about him still possibly being around the house somewhere. She felt on-guard and on watch, and made sure her trips downstairs were as quick, infrequent and stealthy as possible.

Scurrying up the stairs after one such trip, Josie made her way down the hall toward the boys' room. As she entered, Wylie roused, sniffing around the glass facing the door.

"Hey, little guy." She reached down, petting the tiny hamster's back, then tossed a few morsels of food inside his glass cage. "They leave you all to your lonesome again? Poor baby."

Truthfully, it was a wonder their mother had allowed the boys a pet at all. Although his home was kept clean, the kids rarely seemed to interact with the tiny creature. But for his water bottle and lining of 'hamster turf,' the contents of the glass cage was pretty sparse. There wasn't even a plastic wheel for him to run around on. Maybe she and the boys could help decorate, fashion something for the tiny hamster to do instead of just letting him shuffle around all day between glass walls.

Looking around, Josie took in her familiar surroundings. The two beds and shared maple wood nightstand, twin desks, twin bureaus and unmade dark blue sheets strewn with toys, games and books. Characteristic of the boys' room on its best day. Nothing too fancy yet not too clean either.

Seth and Ben were typical elementary school-aged boys – loud, raucous and anxious to act tougher and older than they were. When Josie would read them chapters from _The Lord of the Rings_ books, while their sister worried about the safety of the intrepid Hobbits and their protectors, the boys' concerns fell more with the gruesome battle scenes. _Truly_ typical boys.

At nine years old, Ben was the eldest though almost equal in height to his little brother, Seth. Silent and self-assured, he was the child most prone to do his own thing, quietly leading the pack among his trails of friends. Yet, for all that year allotted the Sharps' eldest child, it was Seth who proved the most outspoken of the three. His being the architect of the campout had hardly come as a surprise. Naming their hamster Wylie? His idea. Painting their walls dark blue? Also Seth's idea. Apparently, Celia had told Josie, it was Seth who'd spoken for the kids in insisting that Josie be asked to stay with them over the two weeks during her spring break. Though he'd never admit it.

Aesthetically, the boys could have been twins, both lanky and thin with strong broad features like their dad's. But for the fact that Seth had curly, dirty blond hair while Ben's was dark brown like his father's, they favored each other almost to a T. And it was almost certain that with their rangy frames, they and their sister would definitely fall in line with their parents in height.

Josie tossed the last few action figures into their toy box and then headed toward the door. Cleaner than she'd expected, thank goodness. They must have been in a rush to be out and about. She hardly ever remembered seeing it quite this well-kempt. She'd straighten up the rest later.

Josie threw a few more treats into Wylie's pen, then closing the door, continued on to Delia's room.

Like night and day. The bed was made when she entered, most of her toys seated either across her bed or at her tea table, and her books lay in a neat pile inside her light pink book shelf. Josie stood in the doorway, shaking her head, smiling.

_Very_ _Delia_.

A tiny version of her mother, the little girl had inherited the same dark hair and green eyes, and would, like Mrs. Sharp, most probably be quite a beauty when she was older. Delia was a girl who loved her frills. She treasured her dolls, her pinks, her dresses, and archetypically 'girly' articles. The only sister of two brothers, however, the little girl had also cultivated her inner tomboy. When with her brothers or some of the rowdier neighborhood kids, she was just as content to charge into the horde like a pit bull, refusing to be ignored and ready to roughhouse just like any of the other boys.

Tough yet tender, that was Delia Sharp.

So much her mother's daughter, and a sister keen to thrive among two rowdy little brothers.

Righting one lop-sided doll atop Delia's shelf, Josie stood at the center of the room and looked around. All calm. She was tempted to straighten up the tiny dolls spread out across her bed, but thought twice. Unlike her brothers, the little girl could be very particular about where she placed her things, and they were probably positioned as they were for a reason. She'd let them be, and avoid incurring the tiny tyke's wrath.

Chuckling to herself, Josie left Delia's room, heading down in the direction of her own. At the doorway, she turned, glancing back up the hall. She looked briefly down at her watch then back up toward the end of the carpeted corridor. It was only late morning, the kids weren't going to be back until after dark, and now blood pumping, she was on her second wind. Just music and books alone weren't going to do it.

Mrs. S had muttered about wanting to put the new linens she'd bought on their bed before leaving this morning. Josie gazed down the stairs. Did she dare?

She hadn't heard a peep of a sound so far. Maybe it really _was_ just her in the house. He'd have said something by now. She would have seen him...or heard something. Evidence of another person..? _Right?_

Backing out of the doorway, Josie started down the hall toward the master bedroom. It would be a bit of a risk being in their room, but she'd gone this long without any interruption. The coast was probably clear. Besides, it would be a nice surprise for both adults when they arrived home tired from the office.

Josie entered the room and went right to work. Pulling off the spread, she placed it in a messy ball in the far corner of the room. Crouching near the end of the bed, she began peeling off the onyx-colored bed skirt when a shadow blanketed her from behind.

She screamed. "Oh God!" Gazing up from the mattress she met Evan's equally surprised face in the doorway. "You frightened me." She patted her chest. "I-I thought I was alone in the house."

"Sorry, sorry." Evan grimaced, looking around rather than directly at her, Josie noticed. "So did I."

He cleared his throat. "I've just been in the office, listening to transcripts. Figured I'd try and get some more work done while the kids were evacuated from the house for the day," he prattled on. "I just came up here to look for a business card I thought I left in one of my suit pockets."

Made enough sense, it was his house, after all.

Josie swallowed hard, rising. "Yeah, I...I figured I'd try cleaning up you guys' rooms while I had a free minute or two...wash the sheets and make up the beds to help out Mrs. S. I know the kids have been slacking off a little since I've been here." She felt like she was rambling. She also felt oddly weird bringing up Mrs. Sharp, considering Josie was currently in her bedroom, alone, with _her_ husband.

"I'll just leave and do it later if you're busy." She began slowly making her way toward the door, hoping she could skirt around him.

He shook his head and she paused. "No no. No need. I'm just in and out. I mean...just grabbing this card and heading back down to the office." He walked around her and headed toward the closet.

On a shallow exhale, Josie returned to the bed. She kept her eyes squarely on the task at hand. Removing the bed skirt, she tossed it in the corner and started tugging at the sheets. They resisted and crouching, she tugged harder. Separating the darn things from the Sharps' king-sized behemoth of a mattress was proving a bit of a feat. She'd only changed the linens once before but didn't remember there being so many layers wrapped on, under, and around the bed.

She tugged with both hands, knuckles cracking from the strain.

Sheesh! The way this thing was encased, you'd think they were preparing to enter it into _Home and Garden_ magazine instead of just climbing in and going to sleep.

"You uh need some help with that?" Evan asked from the doorway.

"No. I can handle it," she gritted out, pulling back on the unyielding bedding with all of her body weight.

She heard him chuckle, then sigh. "Come on. I need the break anyway and I'm not _completely_ domestically hopeless. Besides, you're not our maid, and this is our...Celia's and my bedroom, so let me help."

Josie exhaled, throwing up both hands and backing away from the bed in exasperation. "Ok. You're right. I relent."

Perhaps two people would make this less of a chore, and then she could return to her room – and a perfectly _chaste_ afternoon.

"Let me grab the clean sheets." Brushing past Evan, she looked back to meet his gaze clearly fastened to her departing back as she headed for the linen closet.

_Breathe, Josie. Regardless of what he's trying to do, you're just making the bed here. Very innocent, very domestic_.

She returned with the fresh linens, trying her hardest to ignore the lustful spasm in her nether region as she entered.

Innocent, she reminded herself. Innocent and entirely under control.

Evan had stripped most of the base sheets from the mattress, and was throwing the pillow cases onto the dirty pile at the foot of the bed. Only the old comforter remained. Josie placed the new sheets on the dresser, feeling Evan's eyes darting between her and the bed as she moved. The area between her legs was growing more sensitive with every passing second, but she ignored it. She wouldn't allow him to see the effect he had on her.

_Innocent!_ Her brain screamed.

Peeling off the ends on her side, Josie flipped the old comforter onto the bed. She went to unpack the new one, leaving it in an accessible pile on the dresser. Returning to the mattress, she leaned forward to grab for the old comforter at the same time Evan did, and their eyes met. She lifted an eyebrow in mock provocation, tugging the sheet toward her. On the other side of the mattress, Evan put on one of his irrepressibly sexy half-smiles, then without warning, jerked hard, pulling Josie toppling onto the mattress.

Pushing up onto her hands and knees, she scowled, a look that quickly broke into a smile. "Careful old man, don't start something you can't finish."

He threw up his hands in feigned innocence. "Hey, just trying to strip the bed here. I can't help it if you can't keep your balance."

She backed off the bed, regaining her feet. "Mm hmm."

Watching him out of the side of her eye, Josie went to grab the clean comforter. She could feel her nipples, standing proudly erect underneath her blouse, and yanked on the front of her hoodie, trying to conceal them. _Traitors_.

She spread the comforter across the bed, repeating a mantra in her head. _Just make the bed, then make yourself scarce_. Very simple. And that was what she attempted to do, but Evan wasn't choosing to play fair.

Just as soon as she thought she had her body under control, he'd playfully yank a corner of the sheet they were working on, flashing that sexy smile of his, and she was right back where she began – the muscles between her legs pulsating so hard she wondered if the rest of her body was receiving any blood at all.

Tucking the edge of one sheet under the bed, she gazed over at him. Gradually, an irritation started building. Her body felt tense while he appeared entirely calm and collected.

It was just what she suspected. He was having fun; a cat with its new play toy. Well, she wouldn't be so easily jerked around.

She was relieved when, after what seemed like hours, only the three pillows remained unsheathed. Josie picked up the fresh pillow and pillow case closest to her side of the bed, noticing with aggravation how much Evan still seemed to be enjoying the entire experience.

Her annoyance spiked. She wasn't a plaything! _I'm not. And I'm not just here to entertain him._

"A pillowcase please, m'lady. We don't have all day here," Evan chaffed, eyes surveying the bed with a smile.

Josie unfolded one of the two remaining cases and extended it toward Evan. He grabbed for it, his stance a bit unbalanced as he leaned toward her. His attention off, she saw her opportunity. In a flash, Josie wrenched the pillowcase toward her, catching the look of shock on Evan's face as he toppled over, collapsing onto his side atop the newly made bed. Josie snickered, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She tossed a pillow on top of him, and he laughed quietly, splaying himself as if in surrender. "All right, touché."

He put up his hands in self-defense and she smirked.

"Hey, I can't help it if you can't keep your balance, old man."

At that, he was up in a flash, mock upset on his face. "Old man, huh? Old man?" He smiled, throwing one oblong pillow at her, followed by the other, the second nearly missing her head.

"Ok," Josie grabbed both pillows, throwing one back at him, and swiping at him across the bed with the other, "you wanna go? [swipe] Let's go, old timer. [swipe]"

"Yeah? Bring it, little girl," he taunted, "bring it!" He swatted back at her with a pillow, and she ducked.

They tussled and scrapped, tossing pillows, both waiting for the other to become off-balance or have their back turned, and then, _swat_!

Picking up the pillow she'd just tossed at his face, Evan caught it and threw it back hard, missing his target and tagging Josie squarely in the chest.

She shrieked, covering her battered bosom. "Oooow!"

All play ceased as she sunk down into an awkward sitting position on the side of the bed. "That really hurt," she snapped, tears straining her voice.

Evan crawled across the bed toward her, remorse and concern in his voice as he spoke. "Crap, Josie, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to hit you like that. I know those pillows are kinda dense. Crap. Man. I, I guess I just don't know my own stren–"

Swat!

And down he went, flattened onto the bed again.

"Suckerrrr!" Josie screamed standing so she could pummel him with the pillow.

Evan turned onto his side, covering his head to shield the blows. "You...little fibber!" he yelled between swats. "Come here."

Grabbing Josie's pillow, he tugged her onto the bed with a thump, hastily shaking the pillow out of her grasp and gripping her wrists with one hand. "You sneaky little..." Evan muttered, tickling her ribs.

She laughed, despite herself. "Don't. Doo-hoon't!"

"Do you give up?" he challenged.

Josie squirmed, trying to wriggle herself out from under him and free her arms. She turned her head and nipped at his wrist, and he straddled her hips, spreading both their arms up and out of reach of her mouth.

"Do. You. Give. Up?" he asked, his tone a tad more serious, a change visible in his eyes.

She continued to struggle and squirm, thrusting her hips in an attempt to lift him off of her. Unwilling to admit defeat. Still miffed and unwilling to give in to the desire building unbidden inside her.

Evan slowly released his grip on Josie's wrists and his hands descended down her body, rubbing across her ribs, his tickle turning into a gentle caress that excited the skin beneath her breasts. His eyes bore down on hers and her breath stuttered, the weight of his gaze leaving no room for doubt.

He skimmed the backs of his hands across her nipples, his eyes searching hers. "Do you?"

Her body shook, involuntary spasms stealing her breath, while inside she cursed the eagerness of her response to him. Why wasn't she telling him no?

Weakling, traitor, jezeb–

Leaning in, he kissed her on the mouth, and she whimpered, her self-rebukes dissolving.

"No," Josie whispered when he pulled away. There, she'd said it. Though there lie no conviction in her voice.

"No?" He leaned down, lapped at her lips, and her moorings juddered.

Seconds later, the dam broke. On a heated moan, she craned her mouth toward his, returning his kiss with a desperation that frightened and excited her. His hands moved quickly to cover her breasts, squeezing them hard and she panted against his mouth. Grabbing Evan's ass, she pressed his hips down against her, legs spreading wide to accept his weight. His hands slid between them, fingers working themselves underneath her shirt, caressing the silky cups of her bra.

He rose up onto his haunches and hastily started removed their clothing. His shirt met the floor, as kicking off his shoes, he jerked Josie's blouse and jeans off her body in frenzied tugs. He moved to unbutton his pants, and Josie sat up placing her hands over his, stilling them. Kneeling in front of him, she finished what Evan had begun, rubbing her hands up and down the hardened bulge inside his shorts. He sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth, caressing her face as she stared up at him, asking permission.

Unzipping his pants, she reached inside the hole in his trousers, freeing Evan's half-hard cock from his Jockey's and stroking it slowly before guiding it into the dark cavern of her mouth.

"Oh _God_ , Josie," Evan hissed.

Never breaking their joined gaze, she carefully worked the tip in and out of her mouth, sucking and rubbing her tongue in a trace around the head. Evan threw back his head, nearly losing his balance on the mattress. She scooched forward, careful not to lose their connection, sliding more of him into her mouth as she moved.

He swallowed hard, his body trembling. "Fuck, you-your mouth feels...so good." His voice was strained and it fed her arousal, urged on her exploration.

Licking his length from base to tip, she increased her pace, making little popping noises whenever she pulled him from her mouth. She was getting the hang of it, and soon found she could take him into her mouth fully. She worked her hand and mouth in a way that reinforced their slick pressure, and after a few minutes, felt his cock jerk in her palm.

"Mm!" Evan whimpered, biting his lip.

She smirked. It was a tiny thrill, if she was honest. Every sound, every movement and gasp of pleasure made her pussy ache and her body tingle. Running her hand down into her panties, Josie rubbed her hot mound, massaging circles into her clit as she intensified the assault on Evan's cock. So worked up, she could now understand the way he'd felt that day on the couch, and she meant to reciprocate in full.

"Oh God oh God oh God...yesss," he grumbled. A look of utter amazement and lust on his face as he stared down at her, mouth agape. He sucked in a protracted gasp, then placed his hand on her shoulder. "Ah! Wait, wait. Not yet."

Caught up in her own lust, Josie paid his words no mind. She sucked hard on the crown of his cock until mere seconds later, on a harsh groan, he grabbed hold of her cheeks, easing her back from his groin.

"Jesus." His chest heaved and he smiled. "Ok, little girl, your turn."

"But I wasn't done." Josie pouted, still stroking him. She leaned forward to begin again and he smiled, meeting her mouth with his own and kissing her onto her back.

"Ohhh yeah, you were." His hands slid inside her bra again, freeing her breasts, and his mouth lowered onto her nipples, lapping and sucking first one, then the other, and then back. She moaned, gripping his hair, pleading for more.

He slid his hand down her body and inside her panties, his large fingers massaging her pussy, the pleasure making her gasp with every hard-pressing motion. She closed her eyes, ready to crest into her release when a twinge of pain cut through her lust.

Something poked at her entrance and a hard thick finger slid inside her, fucking her with a firm, steady rhythm that made her body tense from the ache. Josie bit her lip and squeezed her eyes tighter.

So used to the sensation of her own slender finger, she hadn't known what to expect. This was hardly a thin, girly digit she was feeling. Evan's were the hands of a man, not some teenager. Not _her_ hand. She pursed her lips, balling her hands into fists against the bed, trying desperately to relax into his motion as he kissed her neck.

After a minute, she felt him slow and eventually withdraw his finger. Her fingers unclenched, a warm hand caressing the side of her cheek finally forcing open her eyes. Evan gazed down on her from a raised position, a look of concern tightening his handsome features. "Hey, are you ok?"

"Yeah," Josie lied, nodding, her lips, both above and below, still throbbing from the tension.

Evan paused for what felt like an eternity, his eyes studying her face, brows furrowed.

"Have you ever had sex before, Josie?" His tone was inquisitive, yet not unfeeling – all too similar to a gynecologist asking the date of their patient's last pap smear.

She turned her head. _How about the informal 'examination' a few days ago on the downstairs couch? Does that one count?_ But she couldn't bring herself to say it. Unable to face the scrutiny behind his gaze, she kept her head turned as she spoke.

"Kinda...but well...not reall–"

"Josie," Evan interrupted, turning her head to face him. She kept her eyes on the wall. "Josie look at me." He waited until her eyes met his to ask, "Have you?"

After she didn't speak, he continued. "I'm not talking backseat gropes or tongue-kissing at a house party...or even what happened last week. Have you ever had a man...inside you before? Here," he eased the tip of his finger inside her and Josie's breath caught in her throat.

Just the question had Josie's heart racing. Paired with his soft caress, the concern in his eye, it was too much. She struggled for the words and her chest rose and fell in a nervous pant. She could feel the muscles of her pussy throb with expectation. But she couldn't answer him. She wouldn't.

And then: "No...never," she blurted. "But, but I-I do _want_ to. I mean..."

Evan offered a tight smile, then leaning in, kissed her gently on the mouth. "All right," he said softly, caressing her neck. "Then try and relax, ok?"

Though unsure she could, she gave a tiny nod. Evan leaned into her neck. He laid soft kisses along her jaw, his lips trailing down her shoulder, down the center of her breasts, dotting across her stomach. He dragged his tongue in lazy circles around her belly button, pulling her panties to the side, and Josie trembled.

Opening his mouth, Evan ran his tongue slowly up Josie's slit, immediately sending jolts of pleasure up and down her spine. He bent her knees above him, then separating the swollen lips of her pussy with his fingers, began dining on her wet cunt.

Josie arched her back, grabbing hold of the spread, her other hand gripping Evan's aggressively animated head at work between her thighs.

"Unh-huh, oh Christ," she squealed, "right there."

She came fast and hard, her body quaking against the bedspread. He continued, flicking her exposed bud, then as he did, gently eased one of his fingers inside her. The sensation was blinding. Half-afraid and expecting more of the same pain and discomfort, she shut her eyes. But this time, the ache was minimal, the feeling so very different than before. His motions were slower, smoother, stimulating nerve endings she didn't know she had as Evan continued to lick her clit in long hard strokes. Gradually, his tongue speed increased, working in time with his gently thrusting finger and Josie had to suck on her fingers to keep from screaming when her second orgasm washed over her with unanticipated ferocity – so intense Josie thought she would hurl herself from the bed.

For long moments, she lay there, stars floating above her eyes, the words sticking in her throat.

"Just as sweet as I remember," Evan murmured, kissing the curls around her mound.

She breathed out a hard sigh. But her respite was brief. Lowering her peach panties, Evan tossed them onto the pile of dirty linens at the end of the bed. He nibbled his way back up her body, laving her nipples en route to her mouth. Their lips met, and she kissed him hungrily, tasting herself on his tongue, rubbing her face against the stubble at his neck and Adam's apple.

Breaking away suddenly, he propelled himself off the bed, reaching for the nightstand drawer. She stared over at him, watching as he withdrew a square-shaped wrapper. Instinctively, her arms lifted to cover her breasts, and she forced down a hard swallow.

It was really happening. Not a hormone-fueled fantasy – or midday cunnilingual hanky-panky on the living room sofa. The real thing. Sex. And there'd be no going back after.

Hurriedly tearing the red square with his teeth, Evan leaned into her again, a desperate intensity in his eyes paired with a lust that kept her breathing at shallow pants. He suspended his weight with one arm, sliding on the condom with the other.

Josie smiled inside, marveling at his skill.

_I wonder how many lucky girls had found themselves taking in the exact same view, beneath Evan Sharp, the high school baseball star, or Evan Sharp, collegiate football hero_.

However immature it might have been, the giggly teen inside her was getting a thrill from the thought. She kissed his forehead and temple...his eyes, nose...first one earlobe, then the other, his eyes closing in a grin, his mouth meeting her lips as she neared his cheek.

"Such a sweet girl you are," he said between kisses. His lips grazed her chin, kissing and sucking on her collarbone. "So [kiss] sweet [kiss]."

Slow, lazy kisses, so powerful in their effect, always finding their mark on her body. Caressing his back, Josie barely heard him whisper. "This is going to hurt a little... Are you ready?"

She nodded, then felt him positioning himself at her entrance, the pleasure of his nearness helping to quiet her nerves. His lips, the tenderness of his touch, the kind tone of his voice was–

Josie uttered a sharp gasp, the pain catching her completely by surprise. She clenched the back of Evan's shoulders, holding onto him for dear life, feeling pressure and tension flooding into her cunt.

His body trembled, his breath short. "Shit." Evan grimaced.

"Uh! _Uh_!" Josie grunted.

The pressure continued unceasing until her core felt stretched beyond its limits. Until she thought she could take no more, her lower body like one, large clamping nerve.

"Just...a little further."

And then, very gradually, the slow, steady torture of his invasion eased, and it was all she could think to hold him there.

Her inner muscles pulsed, her cunt still wet from his touch.

He pulled back a little, and stared down at her for a moment, then sucking in breath, began moving his hips.

With slow easy thrusts, he set his pace. She pulled his hips toward her, ignoring the lingering ache, begging him with her body to continue. She nipped at his arm, nails digging into his shoulders. She wanted to feel it. Needed to feel him. To take what he would give her, all of it.

So lost in the quick transitions from pleasure to pain back to pleasure, the lines blurred, and Josie heard herself say, "More."

With that word, Evan's lust seemed to mount, and his thrusts grew more hurried in their delivery, the moisture from her excitement now easing his motion. Josie quivered and mewled, encouraging his accelerating rhythm.

"Thaaat's it. Taking this fucking cock, sweetheart." Lifting her leg, he wound it across his back. "So wet for me, baby. Soooo fucking tight," he gritted out.

Josie moaned. "Unh...oh shit, oh shit! Oh fuck, Evan."

Right on the precipice, her body rapidly careened toward another orgasm.

"That's it, come on, beautiful." Sliding his hand between them, he rubbed her clit, spurring on her release. She cried out as she came, wrapping her entire body around him, clenching his hard body, then collapsing spent beneath him in exhaustion.

Kissing her neck, Evan continued rubbing her sensitive nub in slow circles until Josie had to grab his hand to still her body's responsive jerks and quivers. He laid small kisses between her breasts, and she held his hips close to hers, exhaling long and hard.

She could feel Evan still semi-hard inside of her, and realized she'd been alone in her release. "You didn't come," she whispered, her throat dry from the exertion.

He rested his head on her breast, "I didn't need to," then laced his hands underneath her back, breathing her in. "It's enough, feeling you come beneath me." He turned his head and placed butterfly kisses along her neck.

Slipping out of her, he worked his way down her stomach, kissing along her side and Josie's heart rate quickened, responding to the trail of his lips. She hiked up her knees and closed her eyes.

"But..." Evan kissed the flesh of her inner thigh. "If it's another orgasm the lady wants, it's another orgasm she gets."

~~~~~~~~

Josie awoke first, muscles throbbing like she'd just spent three hours on a treadmill set to incline. How had she gotten so out of shape? An odd question, but...

Evan had brought her to orgasm two more times before they'd both fallen asleep – first, with her riding his mouth to pure ecstasy, his hands fixed to her hips, tongue licking every drop from her trembling pussy. Then she'd lay down on her stomach, his hips grinding relentlessly until they'd both succumbed.

The soreness was delicious, the realization making her feel both shocked and giddy at once.

_You're not a virgin anymore_.

She slapped a hand across her eyes, shaking her head. It was so strange. She turned her head and looked at Evan, still asleep on his back. Her eyes ran a slow course up and down his fibrous physique, gazing where his arm spread across his stomach, and at last settling at his groin. His penis lay against his upper thigh, flaccid. Not small, in Josie's opinion, but not exactly large. Not that she'd know from real life comparison. Netherregional protrusions at school dances didn't exactly compare, and until now were, sadly, as far as she'd gone.

The initial pain had been swift and blinding, but that given, she'd definitely seen enough 'adult features' to know that, at least limp, Evan's endowment was more what they'd call _thick_. More girth-y than gargantuan.

She propped her head up on one bent arm, smiling, unable to tear her eyes away. Guess that whole not-the-size-of-the-boat saying was true. Or at least she could confirm it in her case.

"Enjoying the view?"

Josie started at the sound of Evan's husky voice. She grinned, covering her eyes with a laugh, feeling the blush spread across her face. "Sorry." She peeked through her fingers and he smiled back, reaching over and grabbing her chin.

"How cute are you."

She shook her head, withdrawing her hands from her face, her timid eyes on the spread. "Sorry...didn't mean to stare."

Turning on his side, he gazed over at her. "So you were serious then? You'd never had sex before me...at all?" he asked sleepily.

Josie shook her head, staring up at the ceiling.

"Wow. Who knew there were eighteen-year-olds like you still around these days."

She looked at him and smiled quietly. Ideally most of the ones that are left don't end up losing their maidenhead by shagging their boss, Josie thought.

Evan trailed his finger across her shoulder. "It's not that I didn't believe you." He sighed. "I was more...I don't know." He shrugged. "I was...just a little afraid you might expect me to be...bigger than I am and I know now why you maybe didn't."

Josie furrowed her brow. Why would she expect that?

"Well...it's just...considering my physical size and all... I know girls in the past have brought it up..." Laughing, he added, "Celia used to call me 'Stubby.'"

She smiled politely, looking off a little, that sinking feeling again taking hold.

_Yeah, and she probably_ also _assumed that she and 'ole Stubster would be enjoying an_ exclusive, _intimate relationship_.

The silence lingered. She turned to face him and he had a far-off look in his eye. As the seconds passed, she watched a touch of sadness join it – one eerily similar to that day she'd found him sitting teary-eyed on the couch.

"I didn't know what to expect really, Mr– I mean...I didn't know what to expect from any of this," Josie stammered.

I still don't, she wanted to say.

"I get what you mean." His face solemn, he paused for a moment before proceeding. "Josie...do you, do you feel as if we...as if I've taken advantage of you?"

Desperation marred his tone. Finally, he sat up, a slightly frenzied look in his deep brown eyes. "I would understand if you did...even if that was never my intention. I swear! I mean, I don't do this...type of thing often. At all. If that's what you were wond–"

Reaching up, Josie placed her finger over his lips. "I didn't feel pressured into anything, Evan. I didn't do anything with you that I didn't want to do, and I don't feel 'taken advantage of' now."

Guilty, torn, confused? Yes. Exploited? Not so much. After all, if she were being honest, hadn't she been the one who'd started this, teasing him that day on the lawn? Kissing him on the couch? Then in the kitchen?

Whatever his guilt, she hardly viewed herself as a mere innocent in all of this.

"Really?" he asked, removing her hand from his lips and holding it in his. He looked uncertain. "And you're being completely honest?"

"In all honesty?" Josie asked.

He nodded.

"At first I thought...I thought you thought I was just...a fun diversion or something."

He chuckled. "I actually wondered the same thing."

She smiled, cocking an eyebrow. "Just using you for a tickle and thrill, you thought, eh?"

Talk about irony.

"Perhaps." He mimicked her knavish tone. "In all seriousness though," Evan continued, "as the 'older party' in all of this, I can't help but feel...like the dirty old man."

"You're not _old_ , Evan."

"Ha! That's not what you were saying earlier."

Josie blushed.

Returning to his back, he stared aimlessly up at the ceiling. "CeCe and I haven't had sex in over a year."

She knew he meant Mrs. Sharp. She'd heard him use the nickname a couple of times after she first started babysitting for them. "Oh," was all Josie could manage, not really knowing what the correct response was.

"Sorry. Just feels good to be able to say that out loud for once."

She could see the tears brimming in his eyes. He sniffled, turning his back to her and pulling himself upright along the edge of the bed.

"I don't mind. Really." Josie sat up, wrapping her arms around her bent knees.

"I don't know why I'm telling you all this." Head lowered, Evan took a deep breath.  
"This isn't what you signed up for when you agreed to babysit here. None of it."

She shook her head, ready to interject, but he continued.

"It wasn't always like this. The tension, the bickering, the coldness. I, I agreed to move here hoping for a new start. Hoping that if she were happier...in her career, with us, that she'd...that _we'd_ be happier. But now, she seems even more withdrawn from me, and if I give her any more space, I might as well sleep out in the yard."

He stopped for a few moments.

"I know I must seem like a complete asshole saying what I am right now...now especially. And you probably won't believe me when I tell you that...I still love Celia...as much as I ever did." He turned to face her, and Josie watched a tear streak down his cheek.

"I know her insecurities about us, how they won't allow her to believe that I haven't forgiven her, but if she'd just reach out to me. Let me know that she still wants me, even just a gesture of–"

"Forgiven her?" Josie interrupted.

Evan opened his mouth, then closed it just as quickly, and at first, it appeared as if he wouldn't answer. After a moment, he turned away again, sitting entirely still at the edge of the bed. Josie waited, unsure if he'd respond, her heart fluttering in her chest. What was this?

When he did speak again, his voice was a whisper. "Celia cheated on me back in Seattle. It was...another woman."

Sitting there in the buff, the first thought that darted into Josie's mind blared loud and clear.

Dear God, I am officially in a soap opera, and I've been cast as the 'barely legal' hussy.

She didn't know what to think. The whole thing felt unreal. Yet it wasn't. This was someone's life. A family. A wife, her husband, their children seemingly caught in the crossfire of whatever accommodating pretense their parents were living to 'keep it together.'

She had no clue what to say. What _could_ she say? She was, after all, part of the problem here.

"I know some men might think it's a dream scenario. Some fantasy," Evan continued, "but I was genuinely heartbroken. Completely blind-sided. We hadn't been a perfect couple up to that point, but, I never thought she would go outside of the marriage like that. I felt completely cast aside, probably more so than if it had just been some random guy. I know how men think, and I know I have a beautiful wife regardless of her hang-ups..."

Stopping in mid-sentence, he seemed to become aware of Josie's presence again and turned to face her. "God, I'm so sorry, Josie. I really didn't mean to drag you into all of this, in _any_ way. I...I'm just sorry."

At that he got up off the bed, grabbing his clothes off the floor, and exiting into the hall. She heard him enter the bathroom and the door close.

For a minute, Josie just sat there, arms crossed over her chest, eyes closed tight. Then sliding to the edge of the bed, she started gathering her clothes, carefully removing her underwear from the pile of dirty linens.

Her mind swam. What she was doing, what had she done...what did all of this mean?

One fact, however, was stark. The man missed his wife. And what had she gone and done, but make things worse. For the second time.

~~~~~~~~

Dinner that night was awkward, to say the very least. With the children at sleepovers, there was nothing to mask her and Evan's mutual discomfort, though the vibe between Evan and Celia wasn't much smoother in comparison. The tension tone was palpable. And often enough Josie found herself feeling like the eldest child of distant parents.

They'd all pitched in to make the food. A chicken and mushroom stroganoff pulled together with the help of an old cookbook and with limited conversation. The dish was tasty enough, but none of them seemed to have much of an appetite. Nor a palate for free-flowing dinner chat.

This was new territory for her. The dinner Josie had shared with the family had always included at least one of the children. It seemed the kids were the glue keeping everything flowing normally between their parents. And without their presence the meal felt almost staged. Their stunted back and forth more like an affectation of a couple rather than a genuine interaction. How either of them could bear it, Josie had no idea. And yet, here she sat – adding to the problem, on all fronts.

Evan retired to his office soon after, claiming he had work to finish and leaving Josie and Celia alone. Usually a rare and happy chance for chit-chat, tonight, it served as Josie's perfect nightmare scenario. This was the woman not so long ago she'd looked up to. The person she admired, for all her flaws – for the flaws they shared. And now..? Josie had disgraced herself, disrespected the woman in her own home.

How could she even look Celia in the eye?

They wound up on the couch. The now _tarnished_ couch. Josie tried to behave normally. Calm – fighting off nervous fidgets, the tenderness between her legs seeming to grow the longer she sat – as if she hadn't just screwed the husband of the woman now feet from her, cuddled up beneath a knitted Afghan, in the bed Celia would be sleeping in tonight.

After a while, despite Josie's discomfort, light conversation began to trickle. Starting with the program they were watching (reruns of an 80s show about a family that adopts an English-speaking alien that likes to eat cats) and moving onto her. To Josie's plans for college, if she was scared, what courses she'd be taking, if she'd miss her friends and family, if she'd miss them. Josie tried to give curt answers, to not sound too nervous in her responses. As the minutes passed it became easier. Josie couldn't help it. When she wanted to Celia had a way of making a person feel comfortable. And Josie's affinity for her hadn't changed – even if everything else had – and she couldn't help but respond. Yet soon enough, the guilt began to seep in. To where, suddenly, in her head, Josie heard herself providing slightly different answers to the questions Celia asked.

Answers like: _'Well, Mrs. S, considering how well I've done ensnaring your husband under your own roof, I'm considering majoring in heartless temptress...with a minor in duplicity.'_

And: _If you only knew how I've been spending some of my time here, you'd be more than excited about my nearing departure for school.'_

She was a traitor. A Judas. Mrs. S was a kind person at heart and had been nothing but nice to her from the moment she'd arrived. She didn't deserve this betrayal, to have a girl smiling in her face, masking such a secret. Whatever problems Celia and her husband had, they were theirs to deal with, not hers to complicate. The longer Josie sat there, the more anxious she became.

At the first break in their conversation, she wasted no time. "Mrs. S? I-I really think I want to leave."

"What?" Celia blurted, turning to face her. "Josie, you can't be serious! There's hardly a week left, and with the kids out of school now, with the campout coming up...it would be pure chaos without you here. And you know how much the children adore you. They'd be absolutely heartbroken."

And there was that word again. The same Evan had used to describe his feelings in the aftermath of Celia's infidelity: heartbroken. Remembering the state she'd been in when Josie hard it, she could barely hold eye contact with Mrs. Sharp.

Celia paused for a moment, taking Josie's hand in hers, a puzzled look on her face. "What's going on, Josie? You've seemed...I dunno, a little fidgety. Are you all right? Has something happened?"

Josie swallowed hard.

"I know, we haven't been able to talk all that much over the past week and a half; it's been a hectic several days, no question. But I hope you know that you can talk to me. Woman to woman. Tell me." Celia leaned forward, concern etched across her face. "Tell me what's making you want to leave."

Josie shook her head. "I just..." she began. "I just want to have a break...get up late, see my friends. You know, normal teenage stuff. I just feel like I'm missing my entire vacation and..."

"But you agreed to come help us out these two weeks. You were so excited over the phone. To see the kids and...I know we can be a bit of a handful, but the children behave so well when you're here. They love you so so much. Even Seth and Ben, though they won't tell you to your face." She smiled. "Besides, I thought your friends had already headed out of town?"

Damn, had she told her that as well? Leave it to a lawyer to effectively tear down her flimsy argument – to persuade the girl bedding her husband to hang around and stick it out.

"Listen, Jos," she continued, you'll have plenty of time for unruly spring breaks once you're in college, _believe me_. Probably too much time in fact."

Celia smiled and pulled on one of Josie's pigtails drawing a tight smile from her.

"And, in case you hadn't noticed, sweetie, I am thoroughly _rung dry_. With work, and with the kids off from school with time on their hands to spare... Mr. Sharp does what he does, but, to be totally candid, I won't make the rest of the week without you here. I just won't."

Josie sat there, staring at Celia's pleading face. She knew she wasn't exaggerating. She was obviously depleted. She'd seen as much on Sunday night. Josie didn't want to stay. But how could she not? How could she abandon Mrs. S and the family like this? She loved the kids and had given her commitment. Didn't she owe Mrs. S, at _least_ this much...after all she'd done?

"Please Josie," Celia said, breaking into her thoughts. "Can I just ask that you reconsider, and we talk about this tomorrow?"

But Josie knew what she had to do. She wasn't a quitter, and she wasn't going to just turn her back on the kids and Celia when she was genuinely needed.

"All right. I'll...I'll think about it."

She would stick it out. For better, or for worse.

### Chapter 11

Saturday

Celia had splurged. The boxes barely fit through the front door. One, a medium-sized tent that the kids had elected would be theirs and Josie's. The other, a bit larger, would house Celia and Evan.

The children had sleeping bags from summers spent at sleep away camp. Josie had run home to grab hers, and Mr. and Mrs. S had both purchased their own on the way home from work that week. There were electric Tiki torches plucked out of some dark sheltered corner of the garage, marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars for roasting, and even a tiny food tent to house little Wylie. Evan had gone in on that one – a tiny dark green structure, the hamster's favorite color, according to Seth. A modified camp site so that the boys' pet could sleep in the same manner as his family for the night. It had been a nice idea. Following the hamster version of a panic attack during Wylie's trial expedition, however, it had been ultimately agreed by both parents that the brown and white rodent's camping days were over.

The kids' dissatisfaction, notwithstanding, they had all pressed on.

The grill was fired up as soon as Evan stepped in the door. Chicken and steak kabobs, Josie's creation and her attempt to both placate the boys' unbending request for red meat while sneaking some well-needed vegetables into the feast. Evan had fashioned a half-barrel that they would use as their stopgap campfire for the night. An old metal drum the attorney spotted while leaving work one day, and decided, with minor adjustments, would provide a more easily containable blaze. It was a stroke of genius. A perfect ambient addition that seemed to pacify his kids' desire for a real campout experience.

As the sun set, Josie helped the kids dig up some old board games and outdoor activities from the garage. They'd played until nightfall and once dinner was done, torches in place, set up camp out under the stars. Delia sat in Josie's lap, eyes raised to the sky, her little thumb lodged in her mouth, while the boys competed to identify constellations in the stargazer's manual she'd given them. Seated on unfurled blankets near the crackling fire, the six of them shared in the warmth and good will of the evening. And despite her lingering apprehensions, Josie had never felt more part of the family.

On her right in her deep blue Velour track suit and sneakers, Celia appeared relaxed. Laid back, enjoying the happy company of her family. Gathering around their controlled fire they roasted S'mores. Every now and again Josie would catch Evan direct an uncertain, almost longing glance in his wife's direction when he thought she wasn't looking. It was heart wrenching to witness. He placed a bar of chocolate on a cracker, inserting a roasted marshmallow and topped with another cracker before handing it his wife. She smiled, taking it from and taking a tiny bite. Josie had to subdue a grin.

Maybe this makeshift outing would turn out to be good for all involved.

The kids' bedtime came and went, and not until the first yawns began to emerge did Mrs. S call it a night. As they snuffed out the fire and prepared to close their outdoor adventure, Josie breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She grabbed her plate and walked it inside with a smile on her face.

I made it!

And boy, was she ready for a good night's rest – for the first time in a long time.

~~~~~~~~

"Aww no way, mom!" Seth whined, running toward her with shock and upset on his young face. "This is our tent, right? That means _no grown-ups_."

Celia shook her head. They were being ridiculous, there was no way. "You kids are not sleeping alone. Uh uh. Evan!"

"Come on, Mom," Ben balked. "Why can't we?"

"They're right, Celia, we are in our own backyard, after all." Evan shrugged.

"But what if something were to happen in the middle of the night?"

_What if one the kids got sick or started choking or..?_ "What if a wild animal climbs in there?" she pressed. It could happen.

"I think you're being the overprotective mother here, C. We live in a residential area. The wildest animals around here are the neighbors' dogs in heat. Besides, the kids would only be like twenty feet away, and if anything happens, we'll be within hearing distance. It's really no different than if they were in their own rooms."

Celia crossed her arms in irritation.

Kids were kidnapped from their own neighborhoods, backyards, out of their own homes, every day. Elizabeth Smart, Polly Klaas...that little girl from Florida. They were lucky enough to have Josie around if she and Evan dropped the ball, but what was the use of having that extra source of protection if they were all just going to go off on their own. No way.

"Problem is, their _rooms_ are not the great outdoors, Evan."

"Nor is this backyard, C."

"Yeah, mom," Ben appealed.

"Yeah," Seth echoed.

Celia rolled her eyes. Out of arguments, she turned to Josie, who'd just returned from a brief trip indoors. Delia accompanied her, and now stood smiling brightly at Josie's side in front of the glass doors.

"All right guys, we ready to bunk?" Josie asked, looking over at the boys.

For a moment, all eyes fell on her.

"Ok, well, why don't we ask Josie _her_ feelings, since _she'd_ be the one shifted around here. Josie, don't you think the kids should have you in their tent just in case something happens?"

Now, hopefully they could put an end to this foolishness. Sensible, responsible, she knew her sitter would side with her.

Josie blinked a few times. "Um," she began, setting the items in her hands down on the table. "I dunno, guys. You...sure I shouldn't bunk with you?"

Exactly. At least someone else could see sense here.

On a hard sigh, Seth marched over to where Josie and Delia stood, focusing his attention on his sister. He crouched down to her height, then said, "Hey Delia, if you're not chicken, you'll stand with me and Ben. It's kids v. parents and Josie. Don't be a baby."

Making deals already, he was surely the son of attorneys, Celia thought.

His sister's face scrunched up, pouting. "I'm not 'v.' Josie." Delia leaned into her sitter and gripped her arm. "I love Josie."

"No," Ben countered. He sighed, punctuating his exasperation as he joined his brother's side. "Not like thaaat. The kids should have their own tent and the adults _theirs_. Josie's the babysitter, so she should be with the adults, not in our tent, right?"

_Sharp & Sharp, Esquires_.

"Come on, Delia. We're Team Sharp Kids!" Seth grinned.

"Well...can I bring my dollies?" she asked.

Ben rolled his eyes, hands on his hips. "Yeah yeah."

"And no scary stories?" questioned their sister, making her demands clear.

_Make that Sharp, Sharp, and Sharp_ , Celia amended.

"Ok. Fine," her sons conceded.

"Ok!" She let go of Josie and took Ben's hand in hers. "Team Sharp Kiddies!"

Her brother sighed, a look of discontent on his face.

"Then that settles it!" Seth confirmed, his face serious. Grabbing Josie by the hand, he marched her over to his nearest parent, placing her hand in Evan's. "Here, Dad. Josie can stay with you guys. We have our _own_ tent. No grown-ups allowed. Sorry, Josie. You're cool and all...but you're still one of them."

Evan and Josie glanced at each other, then at Seth's concentrated retreat in the direction of his chosen home for the evening.

"Well, I guess that clenches it." Josie shrugged. "I'll just uh grab my pillow and sleeping bag, I guess..?" She turned to face Celia before heading in the direction of the kids' tent to collect her things.

Celia marched over to the table, muttering to herself. Her frustration percolated. "Kids v. Josie? More like family vs. _me_."

Plopping down at the table, she grabbed a handful of marshmallows from the bag and popped one into her mouth. She'd work it off tomorrow at the gym. Behind her she could hear Evan, Josie and the kids arranging themselves, preparing for bed.

She stared up at the sky, and took a few deep breaths. It was a beautiful night. Tranquil. It had been a backbreaking week at work. Haggling over minute details at home just as she was forced to at work wasn't what she needed right now. Maybe she _was_ being a tad overreactive. The kids had been more behaved than usual tonight, which was saying something. She suspected she had Josie to thank for that. But was what she wanted really so much to ask? All she was trying to do was protect her kids, what was so wrong with that? Why couldn't Evan just back her, just this _once_?

She needed support. Some backing. She needed...

Gazing across the yard, she watched her husband crouch down near "Marla." Ben joined him and they both stood there talking, her son leaning on his dad's shoulder checking out her roots. She smiled.

The old maple tree had become like an adopted family member during the few months of their arrival. The children would check on it every morning, give her updates, dress her up – mostly Delia – for the holidays and birthdays. They'd even taken to watering her after a hot day. It was precious. Lately however, much like Wylie, the pet tree's novelty had worn off, relegating it to the background. Sturdy, strong and ignored.

I know what that feels like, Celia thought. Moisture filled her eyes and she scratched at the corners trying to hide the tears. Watching her family putter around the camp area, Celia felt alone. Like a guest in her own home. A bother. Like she wasn't needed, and it hurt.

Evan rose and Ben ran off to join his brother near the tent, his father on his heels. Nearing the tent her husband picked up the electric lamps and flashlights. He unscrewed the top of each flashlight, one by one, checking to make sure they worked. But it wasn't _what_ he was doing as much as where his attention lie that had Celia pausing, the marshmallow halfway to her mouth.

Several feet in front of him, Josie marched back and forth between the two tents, grabbing her items out of the kids' area and walking them across the yard to her newly-assigned home for the night. Celia watched her husband, his eyes darting between their sitter and the supplies at his feet, his gaze intense. Celia's shoulders tensed, heart pounding against her ribs. Evan looked nervous, oddly unsettled, and though Celia couldn't quite resolve why, the sight made her stomach turn. Just then an image of her daughter hugging Josie's side at dinner flitted through her head, and her irritation spiked.

What was...what was she seeing here?

Celia straightened then rose abruptly out her seat, unsure what would emerge.

She walked the center of the camp and in raised tones said to no one in particular, "Ok, fine!" All but the kids stopped to heed her words. "Just _fine_. You know what? Everyone's a grown-up, and can do what they like."

It was silly, she knew. Little more than a tantrum, considering what she was declaring was already unfolding around her. But she was angry. Upset. Even if unsure exactly why she was, and she was tired of holding it in.

Evan rose, wiping his hands off on his pants as he walked toward her. "It'll be fine, CeCe." He gave her shoulders a brief squeeze, then headed in the direction of their tent. "No worries," he called back with a smile.

She stared after him while activity bustled around her. The children collected their diversions for the evening – board games, juice boxes, potato chip variety packs, and an odd book or two – scurrying to and fro like ants on the march. The three had agreed to leave their more technologically-advanced doodads in the house for the evening, a hard-won concession. Thanks in large part to the games Josie had found for them, the rule stuck. The girl could work miracles.

Walking to the kids' tent she stood watching her sons frolic. However torn she was about her kids' sleeping arrangements – however confused her emotions were right now – at least they would be snug. A medium-sized polyester structure, about eight feet wide and four feet in height, the tent had been easy to put up, and even allowed the children to help without any heavy lifting. She'd always liked eggshell white, and the blue, black and white interior, she thought, would suit the kids' tastes – her boys currently had a thing for blue. There was even a little fold-out mat in front where you could leave your shoes. No messes.

Ben and Seth were taking turns hopping in and out of the entrance, unfurling then refastening the front flap. She crouched down, grabbed the zipper and pulled it down. "All right big guys, goodnight kisses and hugs for mom."

She leaned in kissing each boys' cheeks, provoking hard sighs from both. "Ew, Mom."

"Ew, nothing. Big boys tent or not you're still my babies."

"Mooo-om," they groaned in unison.

She raised her hands, backing out of the tent. "Ok, ok. Night guys." She'd barely cleared the entrance when they zipped it up behind her.

Taking a deep breath, she headed toward the tent she, Evan, and Josie would share just to find tiny arms fastened to her side. She smiled, leaning down to pick up her daughter and kissing her cheeks and face until the little girl giggled. "You going to watch over your brothers for me, tonight, little girl?"

Delia nodded, toying with her mother's hair.

"Promise?"

"Yup."

"And you're going to make sure to get some sleep tonight?"

Delia rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mommy."

"Ok." Celia put her down and the little girl ran off. "Night, sweetie. Sleep tight."

"Sleep tight, Mommy," she called back. Celia watched her daughter slowly unzip the tent and crawl inside.

She sighed.

It would be fine. Crossing the yard she pulled back the flap and stepped inside, kicking off her shoes and looking around her tent. She hadn't planned on their being a threesome, but at least space wouldn't be an issue. The place was nearly the size of a tiny cabin.

Literally twice the size of the children's tent in height and expanse, the interior was shaped like a rhombus. It had removable opaque mesh windows and door flaps and a tiny patch on the ceiling that allowed in just a smidgen of moonlight. There were even cup holders in the corners, mud mats out front. Her husband, at 6-feet-2, the tallest of their bunch, would barely had to bend over to enter. Their own tannish, taffeta behemoth.

Josie entered, startling a little as she spotted Celia. "Oh...hey."

"Hey, Jos." Celia moved over and out of her way, and the young girl walked to her bright yellow bag and started to unfold it.

She could hear Evan outside kicking the poles of the tent, checking to make sure they were secure. "Well, what do you think?" she asked, arms outstretched. "Too much?"

Josie grinned. "Naw. It's...great, Mrs. S. Spacious."

She was being nice, and Celia appreciated the effort. She really was such a sweet girl. A lovely little thing. Her curly red hair draped in a tight braid down the center of her back. She wore a gray sleeveless tank top, multi-colored leggings covered in jean shorts that ended just above her knees, and puffy pink and white socks covered her feet.

"Well, this was somewhat of an undertaking, but...as long as the kids are having a good time, I feel like it's worth it. Worth becoming a rugged outdoorsman for the night."

They shared a laugh.

"Yeah. Guess so. And the kids did seem thrilled to have their own den for the evening," Josie added, puffing up her pillow and placing it at the head of her sleeping bag.

Celia felt a tiny chill travel up her arms at the thought of her kids on their own, but shook it off.

"Don't know how you manage it all, Mrs. S."

_That makes two of us._ But, at least she'd have Sunday to recup' and decompress a bit before next week. "I can tell you this much," Celia said. "None of this would have been possible without you, Jos. You've been a lifesaver. Without your help, I would've gone completely off the rails. Which...is why I feel a little sorry for you, honey."

Walking over to her sleeping bag, Celia tossed her sneakers into the corner and began to unfold it. "Evan can be a pretty restless sleeper." She nodded toward her husband's black sleeping bag with her chin, then chuckled.

Celia turned to face Josie when she didn't respond after a while. Sitting back on her haunches, the young girl stared blankly down at Celia's sleeping bag. Her lips moved, though no words came out.

"Jos?" Celia rose, walking toward her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Again, she didn't respond.

"Jos? You ok? I didn't frighten you by mentioning Evan's snoring, did I?" She smiled.

Josie turned to look at her, then vigorously shook her head, smiling. "C-course not," she stammered.

Celia squeezed her shoulders again. "Ok...well, worry not, it's not that bad. We'll lose sleep together for the night." She smiled, rolling her eyes. Truthfully she'd gotten used to it over the past couple of years; a new addition to their bed chamber and the most excitement it had seen in some time. She only hoped her sitter wouldn't be kept up too much by Evan's rumbles and grumbles.

"Ok, you know," Josie rose to her feet, "I think I _am_ going to get some of the kids' junk food before settling in." She gave a quick smile and scurried out the door.

Grabbing her shoes, Celia nodded then followed her out, zipping the entranceway door halfway round.

What had that been about?

She shook her head.

Across the lawn, she watched Evan triple-check the kids' tent – ensuring that the frame was secure, asking if the children if they had enough blankets and warm clothes, instructing them to only touch the front entrance while inside.

Returning to their tent, he deposited a couple of flashlights on the ground near the corner of the tent. He rose then pecked her on the cheek and Celia's body flushed, a wave of desire pulsing low between her legs. "They're good, hun. No worries." He walked toward the house and she sighed, re-entering the tent.

No worries, all right. They might all lose sleep tonight, but certainly not the way she'd hoped.

~~~~~~~~

She was surrounded. In a cage. Boxed in, suffocating darkness on all sides. Not dangling exactly. Just...there.

Pinned.

Hard cold cement scraped her behind. She could feel the icy steel bars pressing into her skin, sweat dripping from the strain. Her muscles twitched. Her chin rest painfully on her bent knees, her hands gripping the hard bars digging into her forehead.

She gritted her teeth, her entire body like a clenched fist. She couldn't take much more of this torture.

She heard herself growl, the sound quickly building up into a yell. Into a gut-wrenching scream that burned her throat, vibrated through her body, and made her eyes water.

Suddenly, the floor dropped away, and she was falling, descending into the unknown depths, the wind rushing past her, causing goose bumps to break out across her skin. She screamed long and hard, clawing at the ubiquitous dark for something, anything that might slow her descent.

Her chest heaved.

And then came a voice. "Josie."

A whisper in the dark. So near, it almost seemed to come from inside her head.

She stopped screaming then, and just listened. Breathing hard, trying to quiet the pounding in her ears.

Again, the voice came. "Josie." And then a sudden heaviness on her arm.

Josie's eyes flung open. Darkness persisted, enveloped. Her vision steadily came into focus and recognizing her surroundings, she exhaled a hard shaky sigh of relief. She was about to turn over when she felt movement at her side. A hand on her arm, moving up her shoulder, then along the curve of her neck.

She flinched, pulling away, when she heard, "Josie," this time followed by the feel of warm breath on her neck.

Her body shivered in recognition.

"Evan?" she whispered.

"Shhhhhhh." His fingers pressed to her lips. "No noise." Her mouth parted, inhaling softly around his fingers.

She could only make out pieces of his silhouette, but the clear intent of his visit pressed firmly against her hip.

He kissed the base of her ear, nipping at her lobe and his breathing quickened. "Josie...I need you."

But they couldn't. Not here. Not now – not again. So why wasn't she resisting?

Using the finger in her mouth as a lodestar in the darkness, Evan moved to replace it with his tongue, suppressing her moans and all thoughts with his lips. He squeezed her breast, its peak hardening in response, the intensity of their caresses quickly escalating. As their kisses deepened, Josie thought she heard Celia stir, and ripping her mouth from his, clutched Evan's hands, anxious and alert.

He craned his neck in Celia's direction, listening, then turned back toward Josie. "She's a deep sleeper," he said, hands moving across her chest. His thumbs rubbed her nipples through her sleeping pack and Josie bit her lip, stifling a moan. She felt the zipper lower on her bag. A hurried hand searched out the warmth inside, fingers grazing across her soft belly and down into her pajama shorts.

Gasping, Josie clenched her legs around his wrist, trying desperately not to cry out.

~~~~~~~~

She wasn't sure what she was hearing. A nightmare? A stomachache perhaps? Scratching from an insect bite? She'd forgotten the _Herbal Armor_ spray. She only hoped the kids weren't being chomped on as well.

She heard another small groan in the direction of Josie's sleeping bag. Maybe it _was_ a stomachache. She had been pretty merciless on those S'mores, scarfing down almost as many as the kids.

_The metabolism of youth_.

Celia shifted her body, slightly turning her head, and silence filled the tent, followed by what sounded like quiet whispers. Her heart raced. What was going on?

Just then, a groan. Unequivocal. Unmistakably. Hard breathing, then a rhythmic rustling of fabric. She turned slowly, squinting in the dark. Her husband's sleeping bag lay unzipped, flattened and empty. She was just about to sit up in her sleeping bag when a sound froze her in mid-motion.

"Mmm." The sound of a strangled moan coming from where Josie slept. Then another whisper.

Oh my God! Could it...could it be?

Did Josie have a boy in here?

Celia bit down on her lips, suppressing her giggle. He must have snuck in after they'd fallen asleep. _But who?_ That was so not like her. Although, it would explain why their usually highly dependable sitter had been so jumpy earlier. Or perhaps this boy was the real reason the teenager wanted to leave early. Celia knew how demanding boys that age could be, especially when something cut into their 'mating time.'

Darn it! Where the hell is Evan?

She didn't want to have to deal with this. To, yet again, be the heavy. But she couldn't lie here listening either, could she. Not when she had no idea when her husband would be bac–

Just then one of the bodies moved, rearing back, arms raising as if removing clothing, and the moon's rays shone down through the oval skylight window in the ceiling.

Celia's eyes goggled, and she nearly cried out.

It was...

But it couldn't...

He wouldn't.

Evan?

~~~~~~~~

She was close. Sooo...fucking...close it was maddening. Evan relentlessly massaged her clit, sucking at her neck, his motions making her body jerk. Her body struggled for air. It was all she could do to hold on and try to keep still.

Shifting his mouth onto hers, he eased a finger inside her, swallowing her desperate pants. He was stroking her so deeply now, his finger bring her closer with each thrust. Josie gripped the side of her pack and grasped at the hard muscular arm at work between her legs. She turned her head and pressed the side of her face into her pillow, resisting the sensations.

So lost in her ascent, Josie scarcely noticed when a pair of delicate fingers, eased across her sleeping bag and settled softly onto her breasts.

~~~~~~~~

Evan knew what he was doing was contemptible. Audacious. A reckless risk. They were making too much noise, despite his efforts to subdue her sexy little mewls. But he couldn't stop. It seemed like he never could, not once he touched her, felt her respond to him.

When the boys had proclaimed their plans to have a tent to themselves, he'd had no problem with the idea. Though he'd never thought Celia would okay it. Even after his wife's concession, he'd assumed Delia would choose to bunk with her mother, or somehow make it a Celia, Josie, Delia 'girl gathering,' with him tucked away in an open corner of the tent somewhere. After his daughter had unexpectedly been talked into bunking with her brothers and Josie was cast into their tent, he'd tried hard to take the last-minute adjustments in stride. Tonight's was a family 'adventure,' after all.

It hadn't been his intent to get Josie alone in their tent, and, well, it was just for one night. He was an adult, a married man on a pseudo-vacation with his family. He could handle spending a single night in the same space as her without giving into his baser yearnings, he'd told himself. His wife was here. Only feet away, in fact. Everything would be fine, entirely _under control_.

Yet as sleep crept over him, a sea of dreamy images from the day washed through his head. And each one led back to Josie.

Images of her lips formed into a warming smile, his hand in hers, soft and gentle, the curve where her butt met the backs of her thighs as she tumbled and wrangled with the kids in the yard. These pictures melded with what he'd seen, touched and tasted of her, creating an erotic montage that swept through his dreams, provoking an uncontrolled response from his unconscious body.

So, when he'd awakened to Josie's whimpers of distress, his body was already on fire. Rared to go. Nearly panting like a parched dog on a sweltering day. He'd felt overtaken, and in an instant, he'd drawn to her side, his cock hard, his mouth hungry, hands seeking the delicious warmth of her body.

Fuck, was he close to coming just feeling her writhe next to him. Her skin, the smell of her hair, her lush mouth open to him in undeniable desire. He could stay like this all night, fingering her tight cunt, bringing her orgasm after sweet orgasm.

He leaned into Josie's neck, kissing down her collarbone, his mouth seeking out her sweet bud when he sensed movement. At first, Evan thought it was her hand, until he realized that one of her hands still held his arm. While the other, he could just make out, still clutched the side of her sleeping bag nearest to his leg.

All of these realizations came in a wave. Not wanting to startle her, he leaned over to the other side of her neck, feigning a kiss as he angled his body, allowing for a better view. Josie too seemed to sense something was off, her legs slowly unclenching from his wrist.

Oh...God!

~~~~~~~~

Evan's hands slowed, his body tensing in response to what he now knew with all horrifying certainty to be his wife. Her scent was unmistakable next to the unmasked aroma of Josie's arousal. Yet...he couldn't quite grasp what was happening now. He withdrew slightly from the sleeping bag.

Before he could pull away entirely, he felt slender fingers wrap around his wrist and he flinched.

"Don't stop, Evan. Please. Don't stop," Celia whispered, her voice unsteady.

His body trembled in terror.

He was caught. Cheating! Caught fucking the babysitter, like some pornographic cliché, his children feet away. He couldn't see his wife's face but could imagine the shock and confusion it wore. His heart pounded like a wild bird trapped in a cage. Next to him, Josie lay there, almost unmoving, though he could feel her pulling the top of her sleeping bag up to her neck as if bracing herself for the imminent attack.

But that wouldn't happen. This wasn't _her_ doing, it was his. His wife's fury, her ire, they were his to own. And everything he deserved – his and his alone to claim.

Evan sat abruptly upright and Celia's fingers tightened around his wrist as he spoke. "Cel...Celia, I...we...it's my fault. We, I didn't..."

Straightening, she pulled him toward her and his breathing went shallow. Her hands moved to caress his face, and he flinched as he felt her lips meet his.

"Cel?" he asked.

What was she doing?

Evan blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark. "I...I," he tried again.

And again, Celia's lips pressed to his, taking advantage of his open mouth and slipping her tongue inside. He moaned, a silent plea for mercy.

"Shhhh," she hushed between kisses. Celia caressed his cheek, pulled her body closer to his. Her hands roamed his body, massaging his bare chest, and he felt his muscles uncoil, his lips loosen against hers.

Still, he hesitated. His eyes wide, her face remaining in shroud. Feeling her way down his chest, Celia worked the clefts of her fingers up and down his pants, massaging his hardness. He moaned, panting into her mouth, his hands moving to her waist.

He pulled her body flush against him. Whatever this was, let her rip him to shreds, it would be worth it for just this moment. This was all he wanted, all he'd wanted all along; his wife in his arms. All else be damned.

He kissed her neck and felt her reach behind him. She took his hands and his heart thudded in nervous anticipation. He was so ready for this; ready to follow wherever she would lead. But when she guided his hands from her body and placed one on her breast, resting the other on Josie's, Evan's heart nearly seized in mid-beat.

~~~~~~~~

This was it; what that horrible nightmare had been trying to tell her. This was to be her punishment. Cornered and at the mercy of the woman she'd wronged. And deservedly so.

Josie lay perfectly still. Her only defense. From the little she could see, it appeared that Mrs. S was all set to forgive her husband. The moon shone down on their bodies from the translucent mesh above, illuminating parts of their intermingled forms. Their mouths pressed firmly together, the passion in their embrace audible above her. She watched his head dip, kissing his wife's neck as her hand moved up and down between their bodies, stroking him through his pants.

A perfect picture of lovers reunited. It was what he'd wanted. What she too hoped my come of this family time. So why was she here? And, more pointedly, why had Mrs. Sharp been touching her like that?

Shaking herself free of her stupefaction, Josie began to squirm.

The why didn't matter. She had to get out. Wriggling her body backward, Josie tried to free herself. It was then, that she felt it – a soft warm hand on her breast. Another followed, both hands caressing her, forcing her onto her back again. She suppressed a pleading whimper, her chest heaving in fear.

One hand she recognized as Evan's, rougher, undeniably stronger in its hold. The other was more tender, soft yet equally powerful in its manipulations. It could only be Celia...couldn't it?

Josie clutched the edges of her sleeping bag unsure what to do. The compatible mix of fright and arousal raced through her blood, as her body started to respond.

Fingers closed around her tight peak, pinching her nipples and she gasped aloud, the protest lodging in her throat as her mind struggled to decide which primal instinct to heed – the one setting off alarms to escape this fantastically bizarre scene, or the one keyed into her body's response.

She wanted out...didn't she? How, in the middle of this disaster, could her body still find leave to react like this? It was sick. It was...it felt...their hands felt _sooo_ _good_.

Deft fingers eased their way down the center of her sleep shirt and Josie felt her fear softening, her desire rising as they made their careful descent. The tepid air made contact with her skin as her cotton top was unbuttoned, draping away from her body and baring her breasts. She felt a warm body moving alongside her then, a shift of legs as someone straddled her hips.

The body leaned in, the warmth of moist lips gliding across one of her breasts, a tongue sliding around her nipple,

Celia.

"Mmmmmm, so sweet, honey." Celia tilted her head up toward her husband. "Don't you want a taste?"

Her sex clenched and Josie swallowed hard, feeling as anxious for his response as she had been to escape only moments before. Lowering his head, Josie heard them kiss. Moments later, he joined his wife, replacing his mouth where his hand had been, suckling Josie's breast, sinking his teeth into its side as she quivered.

They met in the center of her breasts in a passionate kiss, lapping at each other's mouths, as if sharing the taste of her. Josie released her bracing grip on her pack, holding both their heads near her bosom. Pulling slightly away, Celia started to wiggle her body and Josie watched as she slipped out of her top and dropped it to her side in a flurry. Celia reached for Josie's arms, and finding her hands, ran Josie's palms over her puckered nipples. Celia's newly bared body shuddered hard as she ground against Josie's sleeping bag, squeezing the hands at her breasts.

Was this really happening?

In an instant, Evan moved from Josie's side, sliding behind his wife, and intertwining his hands with Josie's at his wife's breasts. Celia squeezed Josie's nipples between her fingers as Evan moved his hand down his wife's body and between her legs. Celia moaned, winding her hand into his hair from behind.

"God baby, yes. Don't stop!" She turned her head, capturing his mouth, their gyrations intensifying as just above her, Josie felt his hand furiously rubbing Celia's pussy.

Josie could hear her panting against Evan's mouth. Her body throbbing, Josie could take no more. Freeing her hand from Celia's breast she lowered it into her sleeping bag and inside her wet warmth. She pinched her clit between her fingers, moaning, her body aching for more as she watched the couple embrace.

Trembling, Celia whimpered into Evan's mouth. "Right there. H'oh God, right there."

Josie heard him whisper something in her ear and before she could blink, felt him forcing his wife onto all fours. He leaned into her grinding his hips against her and Celia quickly took advantage of the position, sealing her mouth to Josie's in a hungry kiss.

Josie had never kissed a girl – a woman – before. Celia's lips were so soft, so plush and sweet and gentle yet demanding in their caress.

Celia skimmed her fingers across Josie's nipples and Josie groaned, her fingers growing wetter as she circled her clitoris with added vigor.

"You wanna watch him make me come, sweet girl? Hmmm?"

"Yesssss," Josie whispered, closing her eyes.

Celia slid her arm beneath them and pulled open Josie's sleeping bag. She moved Josie's hand, replacing the young girl's fingers with her own. "I wanna feel you come, pretty Josie. Come for me."

Celia slipped a finger inside of her and Josie gasped, arching her back.

"Oh god." She moaned, taking Celia's bottom lip in her mouth, and sucking hard on it.

She heard the rustling of fabric like the removal of clothes near Celia's back. Then a driving thrust above and a groaned gasp from Celia that let Josie know he had entered her. Celia's head dipped forward and her lips closed around the nipple of one breast, her finger working harder between Josie's sitter's legs as Evan drove into her again.

"Oh God, honey, come on. Give me that hard fucking cock!" Celia gritted out between pants.

Heeding her cry, Evan quickened his pace, this time thrusting his hips in earnest. Celia groaned, sucking harder at Josie's breast. In her position beneath them, Josie could feel every quiver and jerk, and it drove her wild, heightening her own excitement.

"Yesss," Celia whined, her moans vibrating through Josie's body. "Oh God yes yes yes yes yes yes yessss." Celia reached behind her, grabbing hold of one of Evan's hips, her other hand gliding in and out of Josie's clenching pussy.

The two women kissed and panted into each other's mouths, their pinnacles building in concert.

"Fuck me, oh God, yes. Fuck meeee," Josie begged.

Easing another finger into her, Celia attached her thumb to Josie's clit, driving hard inside her. Josie grabbed the edges of her sleeping bag, arching her back, her climax nearing, the pleasure and pain pooling inside, just as they had that day. She didn't want it to stop.

Not ever.

Evan deepened his thrusts, smacking against Celia's ass, and she whimpered, the soft flesh of Josie's breast stifling her cries.

"Mmm, I'm gonna come in that sweet pussy, baby," Evan whispered, his voice gruff.

Hearing the soft, wet slap of their sex paired with the onslaught of Celia's fingers, Josie felt herself riding on the first twitches of her orgasm. Her hips arched against the fingers inside her and she cried out as she came, latching onto Celia's mouth to drown out the sound. Moments later, Celia's body tensed and her head lowered. Tearing her lips from Josie's mouth, she squeaked.

And then...she screamed.

And it wasn't subdued.

It wasn't muffled. It was a scream, loud and clear; the release of a woman thoroughly screwed, unrestrained and unhinged by the ardor of her sex. A woman smoldering and done in by her pleasure.

With one last jutting drive, Evan came, pulling his wife back and into his chest, grinding the last jerk of his orgasm into her ass as he held her body tight.

"Mom?" The voice sounded from outside. Tentative. Frightened but clear.

All three of them froze.

Silence followed.

"Mom?" came the nervous voice again. There was a rustling sound, and then the sound of tiny feet scampering across the grass.

Jesus. The children!

Evan fell backward, his wife almost toppling over him. Both scrambled to find the shelter of their sleeping packs as Josie slid deep into her bag and pulled it up to her neck.

With all the moans and whimpers, it was a wonder the kids hadn't awakened sooner.

Another voice sounded, speaking amid a sleepy yawn.

"Mommy? Are you okay?" Delia this time.

"Can we come inside?" Seth followed.

Josie's heart pounded, awaiting the sound of unzipping. Luckily, Celia seemed to rouse.

Taking on a soothing yet parental tone, she answered, "Mommy was just dreaming. Everything is all right. Head on back to your tent you three, it's late." Celia wriggled inside of her bag and pulled it up around her, staring up at the tent entrance.

"Are you ok, mommy? Do you want one of my dollies to stop your nightmare?" Delia asked, pressing one of her little angels up against the entrance of the tent.

"No, honey. Mommy's all right. You keep your babies, ok?"

"All right, guys. You heard your mom. Back to bed. On the double," Evan barked. He lay on his back, awkwardly tucking himself back into his PJ bottoms.

With a few grumbles and groans, the children withdrew and a series of footsteps trudged off in the direction of the other tent.

"Night, Mommy. Night, Daddy. Night, Josie," Delia yelled before scampering off, following her brothers.

"Night," all three of them returned in unison.

Barely breathing, Josie listened for a refastening zipper, and then a prolonged silence stretched out across the lawn.

She heard both Celia and Evan breathe a shaky sigh of relief from their respective corners, and Josie placed a nervous hand across her brow. That had been close, _too_ close.

They lay there. Only the sounds of nature filled in the quiet. Slowly, the cool air crept around Josie's prone form. She crossed her arms, holding herself tight inside of her bag, but the cold persisted, nagged at her body and mind, keeping her awake. She gazed up at the ceiling, Celia's words to her children replaying in her mind.

A bad dream. A deviant and wholly confusing one was more like it. Between it and her own nightmare, Josie couldn't say which would haunt her more in the days and weeks to come.

### Chapter 12

The day after. The morning after. And the three inhabitants of the grown-ups tent were avoiding each other like the plague.

They'd left their sleeping bags in the camp, silently left the tent one at a time, none of them making eye contact as they did.

Evan, as had become his custom it seemed, was first to make his escape from the house. A note on the refrigerator said something about a work emergency that required him at the office...for a while. He would dismantle the tents when he returned, it read.

The kids, gratefully, seemed oblivious. After breakfast, bored and still on a high from their self-styled campout, they'd made a go at disassembling the tents themselves. Not a welcomed gesture. Celia mother had promptly pitched a fit, particularly once she'd spotted Seth and Ben nearing the larger tent – where she, Josie and Evan had spent the night. So upset, she continued on even once the kids had re-entered the house, telling them to stay out of the backyard and threatening to send them to their rooms if they laid even one finger on the camp.

"One of you might get hurt, and I, for one, am not spending the rest of the weekend in the emergency room," she'd yelled, locking the sliding glass door.

In an attempt to soften the blow, Josie had gone out when Celia wasn't looking, extracting some games from the kids' tent and setting them up inside the garage. Soon the three were so lost in their diversions they'd totally forgotten about their out-of-bounds backyard. One of their friends from down the block had even come by to join them.

Josie could relate to Celia's frustration, and her overreaction. Its underlying source hung over her as well. Evan's hasty departure had only solidified it. The situation was bizarre, undeniably. None of them knew how to deal with it, how to act, or _inter_ act. But it was obvious that Celia was bearing the brunt of the load.

Discovering her husband cheating with the babysitter _she_ had handpicked was one thing. To add to that last night, her and Evan's lack of discretion before Celia had joined them, their children feet away... It had to be maddening. Literally. Enough to drive any woman off the edge – despite what the three of them had done.

"I know."

Josie started at the sound of a voice in her doorway, nearly closing her fingers inside the dresser drawer she'd been rifling through. She'd told the kids to stay put while she went upstairs to fetch a sweater from her room. Though sunny, the temperatures remained in the low 70s, and with the stiff breezes flowing into the garage, she'd grown tired of feeling goosebumpy.

Apparently Celia had followed.

Josie's heart rose to her throat as she turned to face a dire looking Celia, clad in jeans and a baggy white T-shirt. "You know? I-I don't understand," Josie stammered, gripping her sweater to her stomach and shutting the drawer.

Celia stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. Usually so well put-together she looked more disheveled than normal. She wore scruffy white boat shoes instead of her usual designer shoe ware. Make-up free, her hair was mussed up and uncombed. All the same, she looked beautiful.

"Last night." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I know it wasn't the first time...for the two of you." She looked up, finally making eye contact and Josie felt her knees buckle.

Josie took a few steps back and pressed her side into the bureau. "I..." was all she could manage.

There was no use in denying it. Not after last night. Celia deserved the truth. If Josie could bring herself to voice it.

Celia continued. "Look, Josie, I'm not mad. I really have no right to be. You're eighteen, and I'm not your mother, and what you're doing...well, I'm assuming it was consensual?" She sounded tired, a woman resigned to a painful truth.

Josie opened her mouth to speak. Her mouth hung open as she struggled for the right words to explain herself – to explain the situation, to explain that she'd never intended any of this to happen, that she was sorry, that Celia had every right to hate her, that she would leave immediately...that she'd come so close to leaving so many times, even after their conversation on the couch that night. In the end, however, all Josie achieved was a curt nod.

Celia crossed her arms, then nodded in return. "Then...then all I'd hope is that, for the sake of the kids, the two of you have been relatively discreet."

Josie hung her head, listening as Celia went on.

"I get it. I'm hardly blind. I know how attractive my husband is. I also know he's not 'the cheating type.' Any red-blooded American man has his needs, and...at this point, I suppose I should just accept what I've sown..." Her voice trailed off.

Crossing the room, Celia sat down on the vanity bench feet away from where Josie stood. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her lids heavy. Then began again.

"I guess it's rather hypocritical." She huffed out a mirthless laugh. "Asking you to be discreet, after what happened last night." She shook her head, then sighed. "I don't know what came over me last night. Doing what we did, with the children there..." Celia ran a hard through her hair. She turned around, her eyes cast down to the brown carpet at her feet. "Jesus..."

Celia went on and Josie stood there and listened, feeling as if she were drowning with every passing second. Apparently, she had been under the impression that she and Evan would be alone in the tent. She'd planned on it, in fact, put her hopes on the possibility that maybe something intimate, something romantic might somehow result from their time together. She hadn't known how but she'd hoped. That was, until her plans had taken an...unpredicted turn.

"It's my fault this all happened," Celia exclaimed.

Josie lifted her head, gazing up at her in awe.

"I was the one who cheated first. And I know Evan hasn't entirely forgiven me for it. He's hardly touched me in a year, and I don't blame him. _I_ was the weak one."

Tears welled along the rims of Celia's eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her middle.

Josie wanted desperately to go to her, to comfort her, to tell her what she knew – that Evan _did_ care, he still loved her, desired her. But her own guilt arrested her, fastening Josie to her spot next to the bureau.

"When I heard the two of you...realized what was going on... It's that...I-I'd been missing Evan for so long and, however weird and crazy it might sound, even in the midst of my hurt...joining you felt easier than just continuing on with nothing. Without him. Than continuing stuck within myself, _by_ myself, and alone. It almost felt easier doing that than approaching him on my own with my feelings and knowing that he might...that he would turn me away."

She paused for a minute, catching her breath. "I...I just didn't want to be alone any longer. I couldn't bear it."

Rising, Celia walked to the opposite end of the bed nearest to where Josie now stood and sat down, looking up at her through wet lashes.

It was then that Josie finally found her voice. "Mrs. S., I need to tell you something," she began, "Evan, Mr. Sharp, he l–"

"Just, let me get this out, ok?" Celia broke in, raising her hand. "Before I lose my nerve?"

Josie closed her mouth, allowing the woman to have her say.

"I don't blame Evan. I know I gripe at him, fault him, but I know how great a guy he is. And that's been the problem. I've always felt nothing but 'lucky' to have him. No matter how much I accomplished, I was still second best between us...with the kids, with our careers. And then it was like, someone was there, making _me_ feel brilliant. Talented and beautiful. I just...just..." She shook her head and her voice reduced to a whisper as she went on. "She was a colleague. And after it began, she started to develop these deeper feelings. But I didn't care for her in that way. I knew it had been a mistake and could hardly bring myself to face her after that."

Celia wiped her tears and then continued. "We left Seattle to try and escape all of that. To leave it, to leave my mistake in the past. Evan didn't want to go, neither did the kids. But he agreed to it, for us. For me." She sniffled. "And we haven't been the same since."

Celia swallowed hard, then went on. "Ever since the affair, I've felt ashamed to come to him...to even _think_ about coming to him for warmth or comfort, for any type of affection. I don't deserve it. He must find me disgusting."

The tears flowed in earnest now, wetting the front of her shirt.

"Mrs. S, Mrs. S, please. You have to listen to me," Josie pleaded. "What I was going to say before was, Evan loves you. He never stopped. He doesn't think you're disgusting, doesn't last night prove that much at least? We've been together. Yes. And I can't express to you how sorry I am for betraying you, for _all_ of it, for everything. I didn't mean for it to happen any more than he did, I _swear_. But, but even when we were together, he talked about you. How much he loved you...how much he missed _you_ , but didn't know how to make it right and–"

"Don't!" Celia barked. Standing, she wiped at her tear-stained eyes, streaking mascara across her cheek. "That's just your guilt talking. You're just saying that to assuage your own conscience about _screwing_ my husband when I've told you, there's no need. He got carried away last night is all, we all did. I know he no longer desires me–"

"But he does," a deep voice interjected. "He does."

### Chapter 13

Both women turned toward the doorway, a grim-faced Evan imposing himself into the room. His gaze fell immediately onto his wife. Frozen to her spot Josie watched Celia rise, sniffling. She folded her arms and walked past him to stand beside the vanity. "You don't have to, Evan. I know about you and Josie...apart from last night. And I...I only want you to be happy. You deserve it."

"We _both_ deserve it, Cel." He made his way to Celia's side and turned her to face him, taking her trembling hands in his. "How much longer can we go on like this?" he implored.

Celia shook her head, her lip quivering.

Evan lifted her chin, and she finally raised her eyes to meet his. "I love you, Celia. I don't care about what happened in Seattle. I love you now just as much as I did before all of that happened. All I've wanted is for us to be like we were. We came here for a new start but...seemed to bring all of our problems along."

Tears fell freely down his cheeks and he reached up, cupping her face.

"I can't do it anymore, CeCe. I _won't_! I want my wife back, in _every_ way _._ In all the ways you _were_ my wife before we deserted one other. _Please_."

Unable to keep quiet, Josie sought to pick up where he left off. "What happened between Ev- Mr. S and I was a huge mistake, Mrs. S. It shouldn't have happened, and I-I...I'm so sorry. I love Delia and Ben and Seth, and I never wanted to hurt them _or_ you." Now it was Josie's voice cracking under the strain of emotion.

She swallowed hard and tried to continue. "I love this family, love you _both_ so much and...and I saw Mr. S hurting and wanted to help and somehow it...it just went wrong and I-I'm so sorry."

Josie rose from the bed, tears blinding her vision as she ran from the room.

"Josie! Josie, wait!"

Stopping at the top of the stairs, Josie glanced back over her shoulder. Celia approached from behind and placed her warm hand on Josie's back that caused her to flinch. "Jos, Jos, you aren't to blame in all of this. I was angry when I said that, but...I want you to know that I'm not, I don't–"

"But I _am_ ," Josie stammered, her head cast down toward the steps.

"Josie. You're not," Evan broke in, standing behind his wife. " _We_ made the mess here. Celia and I. You were caught in the middle, pulled into our muddle." He paused and Josie could feel her heart thumping in her throat. "No matter what happens in all of this...it's us who owe _you_ the apology. Okay?"

His tone was firm yet tender, but she knew he lied. She _was_ to blame here and what's more, would probably wind up the hated party in this scenario. Ostracized from the family, the kids, the life she'd lived and grown to lover for over a year...

She could barely handle the thought. She had to get out of here. "Look." Josie wiped at her eyes. "Let me take the kids out, away from the house for a while. Give you two some time alone to talk. That is why I'm here, right?" She glanced back and managed to crack a tiny smile as she broke from Celia's grasp, practically running down the stairs. She straightened her clothes as she walked and took a deep breath, hoping her eyes weren't too noticeably red as she rallied the kids. They whined, dragging their feet as she edged them toward the sidewalk, but relented once she invited their friends to come along.

They ambled along, heading east along the well-manicured street, the children content to stroll along aimlessly, Josie pulling up the rear.

As they reached the end of the block, her mind began to wander. She envisioned Evan and Celia inside. And the mere thought of them, hashing it out, resolving their conflict and settling on her guilt, her role in the giant morass this had all become, spurred her forward. Forward into an entirely uncertain state of being, she thought, and completely unsure if she'd ever want to return.

~~~~~~~~

She felt numb, though her mind wouldn't give her a moment's peace. Cursing herself for unfurling her sleeping bag before seeing where Evan would be sleeping for the night, for accepting his help with the stupid sheets, for gripping his arm when he tried to pull away from her on the couch...for behaving like a teenaged tramp in his lap that day on the lawn. The fault was clear in her mind.

The kids were relatively subdued, happy to just to be out and about with friends. And that was something. Josie was thankful for that much. On their way past the local park, they spotted some kids they knew from school, and before Josie could open her mouth, they were tearing off toward the play area. After a wave to a few parents and fellow sitters, Josie took the opportunity to sit down and officially space out. She really didn't want to think; not about what was happening at the house, not what she would undoubtedly face when next she laid eyes on Celia and Evan. Not about the tragedy her spring break vacation had come. She wanted to enjoy her reprieve. The fresh air, the sounds of joyful abandon, and the smell of spring.

As the afternoon headed toward early evening, a few brave parents chose to invite the remaining kids and their babysitters to a _Fricassee & Frolic_, a kid-themed restaurant in the heart of town. A 'last hurrah' before school began on Monday. Though she'd come to know some of the parents well with all the comings and goings surrounding the bake sale, Josie couldn't have been any less in the mood. A quick hug goodbye from Delia, a wave from Seth and Ben, and the motley brood was off, leaving Josie to herself.

Some of the departing cars had offered her a ride back, and she'd refused. She needed the exercise. More than that, she needed the deferment. Time to draw out the fleeting quiet before the storm. The positive was, there was only one night left. She could take her medicine and face the firing squad for one night. She hoped.

~~~~~~~~

Nearing the Sharp homestead, Josie paused in her tracks, inhaling a depth breath to calm her racing heart raced. In a concentrated blur her brain ran over all of the moments over the past two weeks where she'd felt the same sensation: the first time she'd seen Evan, up close and shirtless rough-housing with his children, their kiss on the couch, the campout.

Josie wasn't in love with Evan Sharp. That she knew for sure. At times, she'd thought she was, but she'd been wrong. It wasn't him. It was the hunger for him – for his touch and what it triggered in her – that had entranced her. The novelty, the exploration, the new sensations, and that feeling of being desired. The thick-thighed frizzy haired girl feels beautiful, film at eleven. All of it had drawn her in, ensnared her from the very first. And she'd gone back again and again like a moth to a flame, destined to be burnt.

She'd used him; used him just as much as he'd used her. Taken comfort in her body, her presence just as she took pleasure in the thrill of him – in being his sought-out soft place. Evan had introduced her to things that she had only fantasized about. Josie had given herself to him and he'd taken her with respect, with passion, with no false pretense of her being 'the one,' giving her climax after shattering climax, making an awkward little girl feel like a beautiful young woman.

But what had she thought would be the outcome?

Well, whatever she had thought, ignored, or flat out refused to see, here it was. Live and direct. And now there was no turning back.

Josie opened the front door, almost expecting a slap to the face as she entered. The house was quiet. On the surface, everything appeared just as it had been. Some of the kids' toys were still scattered around the edges of the carpet, the Xbox controls tangled in their wires. The lights had come on in the living room, kitchen and dining room – the automatic sensors responding to the dimming light – but the house felt empty. Almost as if it were on pause.

Unable to sit still and unsure where to go, Josie relied on what she knew. She cleaned. Wiping down the tables and counter tops, clearing out the dishwasher, stacking the games in the garage and straightening up those left out in the living room. She piled most of the toys in a far corner of the living room to avoid having to climb the stairs to put them in the kids' rooms. Anything to delay having to return to the second floor and her...the _guest_ room.

Now and then she would hear murmured voices upstairs – sometimes in raised tones – near the end of the hall. From the direction of the noise, she concluded that the Sharps had returned to their bedroom to talk. And that was all she wanted to know.

_Maybe I should just leave_. Go home, call her parents and see if they were back from Orlando.

Her nerves were on edge. Each time the noise upstairs became too loud, her head would throb in anticipation of one or both adults charging out and rushing toward her, ordering that she leave their home at once and never come back.

Entering the kitchen, Josie picked up the phone receiver and pressed it to her ear. A beeping tone sounded on the other end of the line. New messages. Grabbing a piece of paper and pen, Joie listened to each several times and wrote them down – separately, overly neat, and in careful detail. One was from the Sharps' eldest, informing his folks that he, Seth and Delia wanted to sleep over at friends' houses and would be home tomorrow before school. According to the message details, it had come in only a few minutes ago.

The ringer must be off, she thought, placing the slips of paper onto the kitchen table where they'd be most visible. _There goes my saving grace buffer for the evening._ In the kids' absence there was no reason for Evan and Celia not to confront her and give her a piece of their collective mind, if the mood took them.

Making sure to the kids' message atop the rest, Josie retook her cleaning, de-cluttering every inch of the downstairs. After a while, with nothing left to do, she took a deep breath and quietly started making her way to the second floor.

It was now or never.

Josie mounted the last few steps and entered the hall. Every shuffle of her feet along the carpet sent a nervous tingle scuttling across her mid-section. It was nearly 5:30 in the evening now, and she hadn't eaten since early morning. But, she wasn't hungry. And with the kids out for the evening, all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep the rest of the night away.

Creeping inside, she silently closed the door of the bedroom, curled up in a ball on the bed, and somehow managed to drift off to sleep, temporarily leaving it all behind.

~~~~~~~~

It was a few minutes after 7 pm when Josie's cell phone rang, shaking her out of a deep sleep. As the new voicemail jingle from her nightstand went off, she realized she could hear soft music playing downstairs. She lifted her head from the pillow, sniffing. The smell of food wafted in the air, and her stomach grumbled, though she wasn't sure why. She still had no appetite.

Reaching for her phone, she tried to keep her movements quiet.

The missed call had been from her mother. They would be leaving from Aunt Kay's tomorrow morning, her mother said, and wouldn't be back until tomorrow night. She sighed. Guess going home wasn't going to be an option, especially now that someone was downstairs. She wouldn't want to risk being discovered sneaking out. She was just about to replace her head on the pillow when...

"Josie?" A voice sounded at the door. A knock followed.

She froze. _Celia_.

"Josie, are you up? It's Celia."

At least, she didn't sound angry. All the same, Josie kept quiet for a few moments before venturing a quiet, "Yes."

The footsteps had been withdrawing and they stopped in mid-gait. A second knock followed and the door opened slowly, letting in the light, music, and the rich scent of food.

Josie lay on her side, her back to the door, an outstretched arm still holding her phone along the nightstand.

"Josie? I didn't mean to bother you. We made some dinner and wanted to know if you were hungry...if you wanted to come and eat?"

She could feel Celia nearing. "I'm not really hungry, thanks."

"Ok. We, we saw the note about the kids. Thanks for taking them out." She sat down softly at the edge of the bed nearest to Josie's back. Her voice sounded lighter. "I'm not wild about them sleeping over so close to the start of school but luckily they're not too far, and...it was probably for the best for them not to have been here while Evan and I were talking. Thanks."

Here it comes, Josie thought.

"Listen, Josie. I hope you haven't been spending too much time worrying over all of this. I know that must sound pretty silly, but... I hope you know how much Evan and I care about you, that we're not angry or upset with you." She paused. "Josie, look at me, ok?"

Rubbing Josie's shoulder, Celia leaned in, trying to encourage her to turn over. Reluctantly she let her.

"Aw, honey."

Josie had begun silently weeping as Celia talked, and now, as Josie turned to face her, she met Celia's worried gaze, a pink-eyed mess. Celia nuzzled up to her and cradled Josie into her arms. The tears flowed in earnest, and Celia tightened her embrace.

After a few minutes, she calmed down enough to speak. "I thought you hated me...that you both did...or would. I was sure of it when I left here." Though less anxious, Josie felt as confused as ever.

Celia pulled away slightly and cupped Josie's face with both hands, wiping away a tear. "Honey, we _do_ _not_ hate you. All right? Not in the slightest, and you're not to blame, for any of this. Ok? Promise me. Promise me you won't blame yourself?"

Holding her gaze, Celia looked at Josie in earnest. She placed a tiny kiss on her forehead. "Ok?"

Josie nodded, still unsure but not wanting to upset Celia any more than she had already.

Hugging her once more, Celia rose from the bed and held out both hands. "Don't sit here fretting, ok? It's your last night, and I don't want you remembering it in misery. Come downstairs and eat with us. The kids are out, giving us a breather for the evening, there's good music playing, good wine, and we all return to the daily grind of school and work tomorrow, so let's make the most of it. Yes?" She offered a smile, and Josie couldn't help but try and return it.

Reaching for Celia's hands, she rose from the bed. Her body felt heavy. Worn.

"Come on. Come on, sweetie pie." Celia squeezed her hands. "Let's go. You must be starved. I know I am."

Josie let herself be dragged from the room, Celia's arm wrapped around her shoulder. "Everything's going to be all right. Ok?" she whispered.

Josie clung to her, squeezing back until they reached the landing. She hesitated again, just a little, allowing Celia to pull in front as they descended the stairs.

Her head throbbed. She still hadn't seen Evan, and though less convinced of his antipathy for her, she still didn't know what his renewed commitment to his wife would equate to where she was concerned.

He was arranging the place settings in the dining room when they entered, and Josie's stomach seemed to be doing increasingly more daring flips and somersaults as she neared him.

"Ah! Here they are! Everything's just about done, I think. I hope you're hungry," he announced with a welcoming grin.

"Famished!" Celia smiled back, cuddling up to him and kissing him softly on the lips. "As I would imagine you are as well?"

He whispered in Celia's ear, and his grin widened, nuzzling her neck. She kissed his cheek, then headed toward the kitchen. "Sit wherever, Jos," she said over her shoulder.

On the cusp between the dining and living rooms, Josie stood there watching Evan follow his wife into the next room.

Josie heard a gasp. "Evan!" She laughed. "Honey...honey, the food will burn."

Looked like the two had made up. And though uncomfortable as a bystander, Josie couldn't help but be happy for them. She was sure the kids would be happy as well.

She took a seat at the far corner of the table. There was a fresh salad already laid out. The wine was uncorked and hot bread and butter steamed at the center of the three place settings.

"You're drinking with us right, Josie?" Celia called from the kitchen.

"Um, okay."

"Take advantage, Josie," Evan piped up. "She only opens the really tasty wine for heads of state."

Josie heard an 'Ouch!' from the kitchen and had to assume Mrs. S had promptly paid him back for that little quip.

Emerging from the kitchen as if playfully pushed, Evan carried three medium-sized wine glasses. He raised them in the air, smiling. "Baccarat glasses, not too shabby."

Josie smiled back tenuously, taking her pick of the three he held out to her. Her hand shook a little but he didn't seem to notice. Tonight was the first time she and he had been alone together since...since what happened in the tent. Awkward didn't begin to describe it. She wished she could just somehow press pause on everything that was happening and make her escape.

Evan straightened out the centerpiece, then took his seat to her left at the head of the table. He sat there for a few moments, fiddling with the silverware on his placemat, before asking, "So, you and Celia talked then?"

Josie gazed up from her plate. She watched his Adam's apple bob in this throat after a hard swallow and felt comforted. At least she wasn't the only one still uneasy about things.

She wasn't sure, but she suspected he and Celia had purposefully set up this scenario as the last piece of their reconciliation. She and Evan together, alone, squaring things away. They both probably wanted to make sure their sitter wasn't too screwed up before she left their home tomorrow.

"Yeah. We did," she replied. "I...I thought Mrs. Sharp hated me...that you both did. But I guess I don't anymore."

Reaching out his arm, Josie timidly gave him her hand and he met her with a smile. "Well, I'm happy that's settled then. Celia and I love you, Josie. And honestly, owe you more than you know. We could never hate you. Not ever." He squeezed her hand, and a more somber look eased its way across his face. It tugged at her heart.

"I want you to know," he began, "that I _do_ care about you, Josie. I don't want you to think that I don't, or that I didn't when we were together." His tone was serious. He leaned in, scooting his chair around the table so that it sat closer to hers. "You reached out to me when I was hurting. And I'm so so grateful for your kindness. And," Evan paused, taking a deep breath, "even though what happened between us, what _I_ did, was wrong. You will forever be dear to me, to us _both_. You, you understand what I'm trying to say?"

That he was feeling guilty and wanted to sweep it all under the rug sounded accurate. And she'd let him. What else could she do? For all her thoughts of being 'one of them,' at the end of the day, family was family. And _she_ wasn't family. Not really. So she'd help them keep it together, take what she was given and keep her feelings to herself.

Josie smiled meekly. "It's ok Mr. S," she said softly, her gaze on her lap. "I'm happy you two have reconciled. I _mean_ that. I know it was just sex. I didn't fall in love with you or anything. I'm just glad that you both aren't upset at me for...all that happened. It's good enough just knowing that." She lifted her eyes up to meet his, hoping he wouldn't see the moisture gathering at the edges.

Evan shook his head, leaning toward her. "But Josie, what happened between us, it wasn't just se–"

"Ok. Here it is!" Celia entered with a chipper smile, holding a smoking platter in front of her like a Thanksgiving turkey. "Everybody ready to eat?"

Josie straightened in her chair, blinking back the tears.

_Thank goodness_.

It was best to leave it be. Even if despite their assurances, Josie knew better. There was no way that things would be as they were, that they could care about her as they had; that they'd ever want her near them again, most likely. And her heart ached in realization. She would be leaving both their and her home very soon – becoming a well-rounded grown-up and all that. But she'd actually hoped to keep in touch with the Sharps when she went away, to stay in touch with the kids, and to remain part of their life.

The notion that things would forever be uncomfortable and strained between them – that Celia would most likely never trust her in her home again, that Evan would probably ignore her like the plague, and not to mention what would happen if Delia, Seth and Ben were ever to find out – pained her. Tore at her heart.

But she'd let go of all of those panicky ponderings for the time being. The meal looked delicious, smelled even better, and they were content to let her drink. She looked forward to loosening her lingering malaise with a glass or three of good wine.

~~~~~~~~

Despite her somber mood, the night passed well enough. Evan and Celia treated her with care and respect and Josie almost felt like an adult at their table. Like a good friend come for dinner. Or at least not like unwelcomed company, which she inevitably was.

She wanted so desperately to believe that this could endure, that the relationship between she and the Sharps could be preserved.

However crazy, things were easier when she'd been in the thick of it all. Despite the dysfunction, at least then she'd felt part of it...part of them. She'd felt loved and appreciated by each member of the family, in their own way. That things could have ultimately stayed that way had been but a dream. And, if nothing else, she knew how those turned out.

~~~~~~~~

Evan should have been in a state of unwavering bliss. After so long and so much bullshit, here he was, where he wanted to be all along. With his wife. It was too good to be believed. And not exactly what he'd hoped. Life had long ago taught him not to rest his hopes on easy fixes. There were no shortcuts in life, no simple solutions, no black and white or cut and dry. One afternoon's hashing out, and brief but passionate lovemaking would not result in connubial perfection. Nor would the tangle that they created around them be so simply resolved.

He knew the guilt and apprehension Josie held. She'd told him as much at dinner and it wounded him, gnawed at his insides. It was because of her he'd come back. He'd been at work, ready to once more bury his problems in piles of contracts, motions and transcripts. And just then dropping into his seat, it had hit him. He was doing it again. Running, not facing his problem, his actions; leaving Josie to suffer the consequences of _his_ misdeeds.

Like that he'd shut it all down and jumping into his car sped home.

He'd been a coward, abandoning Josie and his deceived wife after the mess _he'd_ made. He cared too much for Celia to leave her to unpack all of this on her own, and he cared for Josie too much – her well being and her happiness – to leave her to face the music without him there to take the brunt.

However wrong (and it _was_ wrong) what they'd shared hadn't been just a roll in the hay for him. He'd been so desperate for his wife. Provoked by his wife's absence, by the hole in his heart, he'd allowed his loins and the desire for companionship to outweigh his level head, it was true. The blame was his. He knew that; knew his foolhardy attempt at a liaison with Josie in their tent that night was unabashed proof of that fact. What he hadn't realized was that the consequences of his actions would fall most heavily on her, on Josie and not on him. That she would be making the most sacrifices due to his selfish mistake.

From early on, he'd noticed had been a kinship between Josie and Celia. A relationship between them that went beyond just employer-employee. With sports, statuesque height and a love of children in common, the connection had been strong. She liked his wife, and Celia liked Josie. He'd known this. And all of that would change, be forever altered because of what _he'd_ done.

But, what could he do? How could he restore her faith? Make Josie know that she was still a loved and cared for part of their family unit? It made him cold with worry.

He had no clue where to even start.

~~~~~~~~

Celia wrapped her arms around her husband and felt renewed. Alive again, after so many months of just existing. He held her close and placed a kiss on her forehead, turning up the volume as the beginning credits began to roll.

Mere hours ago, she'd never have thought this possible. The two of them so relaxed and happy in each other's arms. It felt easy, like a timepiece repaired, rewound, and ticking again. Almost _too_ easy, really, when upstairs, one of their own still suffered and they both felt helpless to remedy it. Their own joy felt muted because of it.

Evan had told her what happened. His misery, his need for contact; to feel wanted, needed, valued again, and where it had led. He'd taken full responsibility for the affair. Though consensual, something Josie herself hadn't denied, it had been he, not she, who initiated their encounters. All of them. And, most importantly, the kids had never been in the house when they'd been together.

Although upset, Celia had decided right there, right then, weeping in his comforting embrace, to let it go. She knew her role, knew she'd driven him away just as much as she'd withdrawn herself from his touch. The anger, the jealousy, the lingering resentments, the chasm between them had been long and deep. But she couldn't hold onto that.

And in that instant, in making that choice, the clouds had broken. Lifted. He could forgive her just as she could him, and she was at peace to not feel obliged to dwell on what _had_ been.

They had all made their mistakes. He loved her, and she'd never stopped loving him, and that was what counted.

At the same time, the future was what concerned her – what came next.

She meant what she'd said at dinner. While hurt, she held no grudge for what had occurred between Josie and Evan, and wanted so desperately for Josie to accept that truth. The two of them had grown close. An overworked on-the-go mom of three kids, Celia had come to lean on her. To like her more than Josie knew. She was smart and giving and caring...and soft-hearted. To think that _this_ would be the last experience the girl would take with her as she departed for her new life broke Celia's heart to pieces.

_They_ had walked her into this situation – drawn her into the warm façade, veiling their dysfunction – and forced her to wade through the emotional swamp that had been her and Evan's existence since moving to Illinois. These weeks were supposed to be Josie's time to say good-bye to the family before the end of her senior year and the start of college. They knew that. She knew that. And she and Evan had taken that from her.

She and Evan could choose to pardon each other's behavior, to move forward together. Whatever their issues were, they'd deal with them. But where did that leave Josie? Dear, sweet Josie. Although extremely mature for her age, she was still, in many ways, just a girl. What she could have been thinking as all of this had been unfolding, Celia could only imagine. Josie wasn't just like one of the family. She _was_ family. She needed to know that. To let her go off in uncertainty, go off still believing all of this mess fell expressly on her shoulders...

Celia felt she owed the girl more than that.

In fact, she knew they did.

~~~~~~~~

Josie sat her bags at the foot of the bed, abruptly yanking the zipper of her bag, brows furrowed in confusion. She patted around the sides and her hands found empty spaces.

"That's weird."

She'd only worn one-third of the clothes she'd brought yet had hardly been able to fasten the bag after she'd first packed it. The zipper now closed smoothly, and there appeared room to spare. She must have left some things behind.

Entering the bathroom, she flicked on the light and looked around. Josie pulled open each drawer. What could she have left?

She exited the bathroom and stared off into the hallway. The kids' doors were closed, staring back and she had to fight the tears welling in her eyes. With graduation in a matter of months and all the preparations she would barely see them. Summer would hardly be better. She'd miss them more than she wanted to think about.

Josie shook back the tears and puffed out her cheeks in a long exhale.

The wine was making her hyper-sentimental. She couldn't do this to herself, she wouldn't. It was hard enough not getting to see them before she left, before they would return to school – or possibly never again.

Maybe, just a peek?

Stopping in each room, she took in the familiar sights and smells she'd come to know so intimately. She would leave the games she'd brought down in the garage. The kids liked them, and the near-relics would likely just gather dust in her closet.

Backing out of Delia's room, Josie wiped at her eyes. As she headed back into the guest room, she thought she heard the sound of laughter downstairs, the smooch and smack of lips on skin and shifting leather. She stepped into her room and closed the door, removing her phone from her pocket. She tossed it onto the nightstand, staring down at it with longing.

She'd taken the device with her when she'd gone down to eat dinner. For some reason, it gave her comfort. Letting her know that despite the loneliness she now felt, she had somewhere to go; was still welcomed and belonged somewhere.

Josie sighed, muttering to herself.

It was nearly 11 o'clock. She needed to finish packing up and head to sleep. To put this day to an end, no matter how painful the thought. Bed beckoned. But not without her other clothes.

"Where where where could they b–?" Her finger stopped in mid-tap across her lip.

_Crap!_ The laundry room.

She'd washed her jeans and a few shirts the night before and popped them in the dryer before the campout. She must have forgotten to grab them. Hardly a surprise, everything considered.

Gazing down at her watch, she tried to think how long it had been since she'd been downstairs. An hour or two...two and a half tops? But Evan and Celia were having a romantic night down there. The same reason she'd refused their invitation to join them – not that she was a big _Lilies of the Field_ fan. Interrupting them on their first night alone, after such a tumultuous day..? Not a good look.

Yet, if she didn't grab her stuff tonight, with all the other foreseeable activity that would be going on tomorrow, she'd probably forget to do it.

"Two seconds," she whispered aloud. Closing the door behind her, Josie hesitated at the top stairs. She took a deep cleansing breath, then began quietly slinking down the carpeted steps.

The plan was simple. She would sneak down there, snag her goods, and covertly sneak back up to the room. No interruptions, no problem. The lights were low, but the brilliant TV screen provided enough visibility to prevent her from stumbling into anything as she reached the last step. She had the surrounding cover of darkness to conceal her and she intended to use it.

Creeping quietly around the back of the couch near the stairs, Josie kept as far away from the center of the room as possible. Although she couldn't make out much, the sights and sounds emanating from the cushions betrayed the nature of the couple's activities. The silhouette of an elbow, a raised knee, the back of a head, a grumbled moan. It felt like a scene from a movie. One of those silly romantic comedies or teen flicks where our awkward hero was, for some idiotic reason, forced to sneak past the couple making out on the couch without them noticing. Although she seriously doubted there had ever been a _rom-com_ script, outside of the 'adult' arena, that would compare to the story in which she was now 'featured.'

Moving as fast as she could manage, Josie felt the carpet recede as her bare feet hit the cold tile.

Finally!

The laundry room sat a few scurried feet down the hallway. She skittered past Evan's office, pushed the open door a crack, and slid her body through. Her toes were freezing on the cold floor, and she hopped up and down, lifting one foot, then the other, as she extracted everything her fingers could recognize from the dryer, then silently closed the lid. Anything she left, she left.

She closed the door behind her and tiptoed carefully toward the living room. Halfway inside the room, she froze in mid-step.

The TV was on blue screen, and the sounds on the couch has ceased altogether.

Oh crap!

Had they noticed her? Were they coming back? Had they tumbled onto the floor..?

Rising on her tiptoes, Josie tried to peer down into the dark depths of the couch then down onto the floor beneath, but her view was still obstructed. All she could make out was a green-tinted wine bottle on the table that appeared empty.

Her mind raced. The lights were still low. They'd have turned them on and switched the TV off if they'd gone up for the night...right? So, maybe they just went to make popcorn or something. Either way, she wasn't planning on staying to find out.

Tucking her clothes in a rumbled ball under her arm, Josie skulked across the living room, back hunched, and then tore past the kitchen. She made a last sprint for the stairs, climbing them two at a time and not looking back.

She reached the top step and let out a deep exhale as she rushed inside the bedroom door.

Her heart was pounding. She shook her head, quietly laughing. An aptly peculiar end to an abnormal two weeks.

The front of Josie's thighs met the mattress and she dumped the clothes onto the bed. She'd have to fold them as flat as physically possible to even hope to make them fit.

Laughter sounded down the hallway and she turned her head toward her doorway.

So they'd moved to the bedroom. After what she'd seen in shroud in the living room, she wasn't surprised. At least she wouldn't have to worry about any more awkward scenes between the three of them tonight.

Question was, why could she hear them so clearly? Was their door open? But why–?

Whatever. Not my business, not my business, so not my business...not anymore.

She unfolded her crumpled shirt from the pile, shaking it out, then ironing out the wrinkles with her palms. It was the one she'd been wearing that day – with Evan and the kids, wrestling and frolicking on the front lawn. Leaning over, Josie slid the shirt into her bag, then struggled to make room for the rest.

She tilted the bag toward her, and pulled up the flaps, shoving her green blouse into an empty corner. It was the same one Delia had placed a tiny daisy in during one of their walks. As she set the bag back down flat on the carpet, the contents shifted, the silky cup of her peach bra peeking out from between the legs of a pair of pants. She pulled it loose, her other hand collaring her neck, then trailing down to caress one breast. She closed her eyes, a quiet throb rushing across her body, just as it had that day. The day she'd 'become a woman.'

Josie breathed out a hard exhale and shoving the bra back inside, gripped both sides of the bag, bringing them together. Holding one end, she pulled at the zipper, yanking it up and around the lumps and bumps of her clothes. "Should have taken some of this stuff home before," she gritted out.

In her defense, there had been other pressing matters on her mind at the time.

With a last grunt, tug, and yank, the resistance gave way, and the bag sealed closed. Dragging it toward the vanity, she plopped it down with the rest of her things. Glancing up, she realized she'd left her door half open when she'd entered. She moved to close her it, taking one more peek down the hall. The door was open in Evan and Celia's bedroom and a light shone from the doorway.

Ducking back inside, she had her door half-closed when she heard a soft, "Josie?" emerge from the other end of the hall.

Or so she thought. Maybe she was hearing things. Lingering effects of the wine, perhaps?

Then it came again. A little louder this time, though the tone was just as gentle. "Josie? Sweetie?"

Ok...so she wasn't hallucinating.

Josie pulled back her door and stuck her head out in the direction of the voice, a slightly puzzled look on her face.

In one willowy movement, Celia appeared in the doorway. Inquisitive at first, a welcoming smile spread across her face as Josie stepped out into the hallway.

Celia held out her hand, and nodded toward her.

_What the h-e-double hockey sticks?_ "Um...ok," Josie said.

Weren't these two just making out not five minutes ago? Could it be they'd heard her and were miffed about her little downstairs excursion? But no, they'd have been upstairs by then, right?

What was this?

Josie's legs felt hot, unsteady inside her striped pajama bottoms, but somehow she managed her way down the corridor. As she neared, she could make out a trace of an orchid bra strap and hip-hugging satin shorts beneath the black robe Mrs. Sharp donned. The translucent material fluttered around her mid-thigh.

What a beautiful body she had. So sleek and firm yet soft and lithe. Josie blinked rapidly, her heart beating like a jackhammer as she grasped Celia's outstretched hand and let herself be pulled into the bedroom.

There were candles burning on the dressers and the sweet smell of raspberries and caramel mixed with a hint of vanilla hung in the air as she entered. A wine glass mostly drained of its plum-hued alcohol sat in front of the lamp on the nightstand. And on the far corner of the bed, the same where she had made love for the first time, sat Evan. He wore pajama pants and nothing else. He smiled as she neared, tipping back his glass and draining its contents, then placing the stemware back onto the nightstand.

Celia sat down at the foot of the bed and he moved to join his wife on her right side. She patted the spread next to her and Josie took a seat on her left. If she hadn't been feeling so uneasy, she would have sworn Mrs. Sharp gave her a stealthy once-over right before she sat down.

More hallucinations.

"Josie," Celia turned to face her on the bed, taking hold of her hand, the sweet scent of wine on her breath as she spoke. "I know it's late and you were probably getting ready for tomorrow...getting ready to turn in for the night?" She tucked a strand of hair behind Josie's ear. "Everything packed up ok? You need any help with anything?"

"Um..." Josie began.

_Help me pack? In_ that _get-up?_ Eyes deliberately trained toward the floor, Josie cleared her throat. It must have been a good fifteen seconds before her mouth caught up to her brain. "No no," she said a little too loudly. Adjusting her volume, she tried again. "I mean, no, I'm-I'm pretty much packed up, thanks. I had to grab some stuff I'd left in the dryer but–"

_Crap!_ She caught herself just as her nervous rambling gave her away.

Celia smiled knowingly, and Evan chuckled, rubbing a hand through his hair, a blush rising in his cheeks.

"I mean," Josie tried to clarify. "I just ran down _really_ _quickly_ and plucked my stuff out of the dryer and headed back to my room. But yeah I'm all set for tomorrow, thanks."

"Great." She squeezed Josie's hand warmly. She'd nearly forgotten Celia still held it. "Josie, there was something I...we," she turned to grab her husband's arm before turning back toward her, "wanted to sort of talk to you about before you left."

Celia paused. Then flashing a nervous smile, went on. "I know we've said this before, but we think it bears repeating, considering everything. We both love you, and it deeply hurts us both thinking you would leave here believing otherwise."

"Absolutely," Evan added, a grave look on his face as he rose from the bed. Crossing in front of them, he sat down to Josie's other side, and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Josie we're grateful, so _incredibly_ grateful for all you've done here over these two weeks. For the kids, of course...but also for _us_."

Josie kept her eyes to the ground as Evan spoke. He paused, turning her to head to face him. His gaze was pointed, sincere. Josie swallowed, her throat dry as he took hold of her other hand.

"Without you, without this entire _ordeal_ even, who knows how long Cel and I would have gone on into the future as we had been."

At her back, Celia moved near, placing both hands on Josie's shoulders.

"The last thing you said to me at dinner was that you thought it had been just sex between you and I," Evan said.

Squirming, Josie felt a nervous shiver making its way up her spine.

What would Mrs. S think when she heard this? She had intended this revelation for his ears only. Now Celia would really hate her. Why was he _doing_ this?

"No no. Don't worry." Evan leaned in and placed his hand on Josie's knee, giving it a tiny squeeze to emphasize his point. "I've told Celia all about our conversation, she knows how I feel and it's ok. Really it is. But honey...I need you to know, it wasn't just sex. I cared about you, Josie. You're a kind, caring, interesting, compassionate, _truly_ beautiful girl. You were there for me, for both of us, and for this family when we needed you. I cared about you then, and I care about you now. We _both_ do."

"We mean it, honey. We don't want you leaving here feeling down. We love you. So so much." Celia punctuated her last few words with small kisses to the back of Josie's neck then wrapped her arms around her waist.

Josie stiffened, the heat from Celia's lips spreading like a stoked flame across her skin. She licked her lips and tried to ignore the building sensations. "Ok," she replied. Her brain and body warring, she honestly couldn't think what else to say.

Evan stared down at the bed for a moment, then, taking a deep breath, continued. "I did want to ask you something..?"

"Yes?" Josie's voice quivered. She swallowed wetting her throat.

Evan's tone had taken on that deep sensual vibrato, and as ever, her body responded. She only hoped he wouldn't notice her nipples, now at full attention beneath her sleep T.

"Well, we both wanted to know how you felt about...about what happened that night...during the campout? I mean, we never had the chance to discuss it, all three of us. And Celia and I just wanted to know. Are you...ok with what happened? Were you troubled by it?"

"You can be honest, honey," Celia encouraged, squeezing Josie's waist a little tighter. She smoothed her hand across Josie's hair in an almost motherly gesture. "Are you all right, honey? Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Josie looked up at Evan then. Her eyes were level and strong, and for the first time since she entered the room, she didn't feel nervous. "I liked it."

Evan opened his mouth to speak, and then just as abruptly closed it. He repeated the motion a few times, his lips looking as if they were trying to form the right words. It was almost comical. And if she hadn't been so turned out she would have been tempted to laugh out loud at his loss of self-composure.

Behind her, she could feel Celia's mouth, inhaling deeply, rubbing her warm cheek against the back of her head.

"In fact," Josie lightly traced the skin of Celia's arms with the tips of her fingers, "I liked it a lot." She grinned.

Interlacing their fingers, she unclenched Celia's hands from her waist and trailing them up her body, brought them to rest across her breasts.

Josie didn't know if what she was doing was right. She had no idea what possessed her, but she was certain she didn't want to stop. Not yet.

No hiding. No secrets. No shame or cumbrous guilt, they'd coached. And now, Josie meant to test those professions.

Evan's eyes softened, his arousal evident in both his features and his form. Josie watched as his gaze fell to her shoulder where his wife's head rested, then froze as if he were taking cues from her as to his next steps.

Her self-control waning, Josie reached out and took his hand in hers. "I liked you both, touching me." She began laying soft wet kisses along his fingers. "Liked watching you touch each other." She kissed his palm, moving along the side of his hand. "Feeling you..." She placed small kisses along his wrist, reclining into Celia's embrace. "...feeling you fucking above me. Fucking her so hard while she fucked me. I wanted you both sooo badly." Celia's hands grazed her nipples, tweaking their hard peaks between her fingers, and Josie moaned. "Just like I do now."

Evan shifted on the bed and closed the distance between their bodies. One hand in hers, the other grazed Josie's cheek. This time, however, there was no wavering unease behind his eyes. He leaned in, kissing the corner of her mouth. "You liked Mrs. Sharp's hands on your breasts?" He kissed the other side.

"Uh huh," Josie whispered, trembling as, rising to her knees, Celia deposited lingering open-mouthed kisses up her neck, sucking her earlobe into her mouth, massaging Josie's breasts with more intensity.

Grabbing the bottom of Josie's shirt, Evan rolled it up over her head while Celia shrugged out of her robe. He leaned in, gently caressing Josie's cheek and angling her head, she sucked his thumb into her mouth.

"You liked it when Mr. Sharp was sucking on your sweet little nipples?" Celia kissed her way down Josie's shoulder and Josie moaned around Evan's finger, nodding.

Though nearly bare, her skin felt white hot, and she sucked harder on Evan's finger. He looked on in heated awe. Removing his fingers from her mouth, he eagerly lowered his lips onto hers, his hand dipping inside her pants and latching onto her hot wet cleft. He rubbed her clit and her breathing turned shallow.

He'd been holding back, she could tell. Out of respect, letting Celia take the lead. He seemed keen to make up for lost time.

Lowering his head, Evan angled his mouth to Josie's breast. His wife tweaked Josie's hardening nipples, and leaning in, he lapped twice at the little hardened buds peeking out between Celia's slim digits. He blew on them, rubbing his lips, mouth, and cheek against one pink protuberance, and then its twin, and Josie hissed. His eyes tilted up to meet hers, still lapping at her erect nipple.

Unable to sit still, Josie rose to her knees. She panted, pulling Evan's head to her breast as Celia's hot mouth traced a path down the center of her back. Josie's head lolled, basking in the pleasure they created.

Evan's lips parted at her breast, Celia's mouth and hands sending tremulous chills up her spine. She turned her head, and the two women's mouths met, straining to deepen their kiss. Josie nipped at her lip, peeling the strap of Celia's bra off her shoulder as Celia wound her arms behind her, working hard to unhook it. Releasing the clasp, she tossed the bra onto the floor, then resumed her amorous arrest of Josie's mouth.

Josie smiled, licking Celia's red lips, one at a time. She gripped the back of her hair, forcing Celia's lips to hers and securing Evan's head to her breast. Never before had she wished she had more than two hands.

She ached to please, to have her fingers in every place at once, all over and inside Evan and Celia's gorgeous anatomies.

Removing his mouth from Josie's breasts, Evan sought out his wife. He leaned into her, cupping her breasts and suckling each, his hands molding them to better feed his hungry mouth. Breaking away from Josie's mouth, Celia's delicate fingers grazed his scalp, holding him close, her body arching toward him.

Such a beautiful sight.

So engrossed in their embrace, Josie took her time slipping out of her clothes, every fiber of material on her skin further igniting her lust as she tore it from her body. She crawled back toward the kissing couple on her hands and knees. Taking advantage of the small space between their steepled bodies, she splayed her fingers across Evan's brawny chest, tickling his nipples with her tongue, lapping at them with long hard strokes, and he groaned into his wife's breast.

On a hard moan, Evan's hand slipped inside Celia's shorts and she hissed, her eyes closing. "Oh God baby, yeeeees." She cradled his face with both hands, kissing along his hairline.

Grasping the front of the material of Celia's thong, he tugged it forward and back across her throbbing mound, his mouth returning to her breast. Her body trembled hard with each tug, her breaths coming in short gasps.

Josie was so hot she could hardly see straight. Hearing their gratification vocalized, she was no longer content with the tease. She kissed her way down Evan's chest, pulling at the waistband of his pants with her teeth. Easing back, she lowered onto her stomach, gently rubbing her knuckles across his arousal, licking his hardness through his pants until the material was near-transparent with moisture.

"Oh God," Evan whispered, panting against his wife's breast.

She reached inside of the hole in his pants, the bristly hair of his pubis tickling her palm as she took hold of his hard cock. He grunted, grabbing the back of Celia's hair, and pulling her in for a deep kiss, his fingers working furiously against her sensitive nub. She moaned long and hard into Evan's mouth, just as, lowering his sleep pants, Josie smoothed her tongue around the mushroom tip of his cock. She slipped him past her lips and began sucking him, stroking him hard and fast as he trembled above her, her cheeks dimpling around his shaft.

She released him, and he cried out, grabbing hold of Josie's head, and tilting it away. She smiled up at him, following it with a cheeky wink.

" _Fuck_ , little girl. You're gonna pay for that."

In an instant, he'd worked off his pants, then hooking his hands under Josie's arms, lifted her to her knees and pushed her onto her back. She fell back with a laughing squeal. He grabbed one ankle as Celia gripped the other, and before she knew what was happening, they were tugging her toward them.

Now on either side of her, they began to caress her, feathering kisses across Josie's nude body – Celia proceeding north while Evan turned his attentions south.

She trembled in anticipation, both their mouths on her skin rousing nerves deep inside her.

Evan positioned himself between her legs, licking the skin of her inner thighs. She could feel her pussy quiver, longing for attention. Celia kissed across her stomach as Evan bent her knees, tilting her pelvis and positioning his mouth at her entrance. Extending her arm, Josie slid her hand between Celia's legs, cupping the brunette's slit and moving her thumb over the moist pink nub inside her lips.

Celia sighed, rubbing her pussy against Josie's hand like a cat being pet. "Yeah. Just like that, honey."

Winding his arms around her legs, Evan lapped hungrily at Josie's arousal, sucking deeply on her delicate lips. She squirmed, and he spread her wider, dragging his tongue in hard drawing laps across her nub, stroking her wet cunt at a pulse-driven rhythm. Josie moaned harder with each quickening stroke. "Oh, oh God."

Before she'd finished the last word, she felt herself teetering on the edge. Shuddering under Evan's assault, she came in hard jerks, his machinations threatening to suck her dry and consume her whole. "Oh fuck."

Josie panted.

As her orgasm waned, her attention re-focused on Celia and her hand stilled between Celia's legs. Josie turned her head to face her, a lust filled plea in her eyes. "I want to taste you. To taste you the way he's tasting me." She kissed the front of Celia's thigh, her fingers lightly stroking the inside of her leg.

Staring down, Celia ran her hand over Josie's forehead in a loving caress. "You're sure? You know you don't have to."

"Please," Josie pressed. "I want to...I've wanted it ever since that night. Will you? Let me?"

Celia stared down at her, uncertainty furrowing the smooth skin of her brow. Sliding her thumb across Josie's parted lips, she kissed her softly. Then, with a smile she whispered, "We'll go slow, ok?"

"Ok." Josie smiled, an impatience underlying her movements.

Celia slinked out of her shorts as Josie leaned up onto her elbows, watching Evan nipping the tender flesh around pussy. She reached for him, placing both hands on his face, and guiding him toward her. She lapped at his mouth, tasting herself, knowing she'd soon be savoring similar delights.

"Naughty girl," Evan whispered, pressing an impish grin into her mouth.

Celia's lips grazed Josie's neck and shoulder, dotting kisses down her arm, drawing her attention from Evan. Lowering onto her back, Josie crooked her finger in Celia's direction, a sexy smirk on her face.

"Coming dear," Celia joked, crawling toward her. She straddled Josie's hips, re-creating their position from the previous night. Their slender fingers intertwined and Evan kneeled beside them, stroking his manhood, keeping it hard, his hard gaze enwrapped in the sensuous sight before him.

Celia gyrated against her, the heated friction of their soft bodies intensifying Josie's excitement. Pulling their entangled hands toward her, Josie forced Celia's body forward until her mouth lingered near the tall brunette's shaven lips. Grabbing hold of her ass, Josie slid down until she was directly beneath Celia's legs, then lifting her head took a long preliminary lick of Celia's spread cunt, reveling in the quaking hiss that her action provoked.

Celia shivered, laughing. "Eaasy, honey. Eaaaasy."

But with her desire taking over, Josie could barely heed the admonition. She wanted nothing more than to feed on her, to gorge on her arousal, and cupping Celia's ass, she began to do just that.

She began with short steady licks, her tongue targeting Celia's tiny pink button – borrowing from the technique that always left her breathless under Evan's oral caress. Opening her eyes to survey the effects, she watched Celia's face, her lip tucked between her teeth as she appeared to struggle to adjust to the new sensations. "God, right there," she whimpered, her hips rocking in rhythm with Josie's licks.

She felt Evan's movements between his legs, but paid him little mind.

Josie wrapped her lips around Celia's clit, suckling like a baby would its mother's teat and Celia's body arched forward, her arms grabbing for the headboard in front of her. "God baby, that's good. Sooo fucking good."

Josie groaned against her, spreading Celia's lips with her fingers. She grasped her straddling hip, firmly holding her in place above her, then widening her mouth ran her flattened tongue vigorously back and forth.

"Yes yes yes, oh _shit_ , baby," Celia squeaked. "I'm gonna come in that sweet little mouth." Celia grabbed Josie's head, steadying herself as like a jolt, the first waves of her orgasm lurched her body forward and onto her hands and knees.

~~~~~~~~

Evan wanted in, and as Josie attempted to mimic his skilled stroke, he sat positioned at her entrance, a concentrated intensity on his face. With his wife trembling in pleasure, he slowly slid his throbbing hard-on inside his feasting lover, straining to hold back. Josie groaned into Celia's pussy, her inner muscles clenching as she welcomed his stony cock inside her.

He inhaled, raising her legs over his shoulders until the back of Josie's thighs pressed against his hard chest. He started slow, his lust quickly hastening the speed of his thrusts. She whimpered and he groaned pumping with steadier force inside her throbbing lips.

The tight feel of her coupled with the sight of his wife's writhing form, he felt frenzied. Wild and out of control.

Wetting his thumb, he reached down, circling the hot nerve bed between Josie's legs, and she squealed, grabbing tighter to Celia's hips as her own hips bounced to the rhythm set by his slapping thrusts.

Suddenly Josie gasped, her body tensing, trembling, as she jerked hard in her release, bringing Celia with her.

~~~~~~~~

She was going to come again, so...fucking...hard.

Peeling Josie's hands from her hips, Celia met Josie's mouth with a hard kiss as Evan's fevered thrusts between the sweet teenager's legs continued. His arms gripped Josie's knees, his balls, creating a slippery smacking sound as he fucked her. "Oh shit shit shit shit shit shit shit," Josie cried in time with every unyielding stroke.

Her breasts bounced and breaking their kiss, Celia squeezed them, kissing down the center of Josie's chest.

Josie grabbed the bedspread at her sides, her back arching off the bed. In a fever, she reached out, slipping one arm under Celia's stomach, inserting her middle finger inside her wet entrance and working it in and out of her cunt in a fury.

Josie slipped another finger, then a third inside her, grinding them deep into Celia's tight hole and she cried out, dropping her head onto Josie's chest. "Unh-uhhhh, God, _fuck_!"

Celia screamed, coming quick and hard. "Oh my God, oh fuck...honey." She chuckled, panting against Josie's soft breast. "You're gonna wear me out."

Josie giggled, gazing up at a grinning Evan. He dotted light kisses on Josie's knees, thighs, and stomach, as gradually his eyes settled on his wife. "Not quite yet you don't," he slowly lowered Josie's legs and grabbed hold of Celia's wrist, laying soft kisses into the center of her palm. "We have some unfinished business here, wife."

He eased backward, seating himself at the end of the bed, and settling her on top of him.

"Is Stubby still hungry?" Celia whispered, giving him a playful frown.

"For you? _Very_ ," he growled, nipping at her mouth.

Sliding her hand between them, she seized his still-hard cock, using Josie's lingering juices to ease her stroke. "Very?" she teased.

"Mmmmmm, baby." He gripped her hips. "Sooooo hungry."

Massaging her overworked clit, Josie watched them from afar.

"Mm-hmmm," Celia purred, "then let's feed him." She smiled, rising slightly from Evan's lap, then lowering herself onto his thick erection inch by slow inch.

Their foreheads met, bodies trembling from the tension. He felt just as good as she remembered, so hot and hard, his girth forcing her open and making her crave him all the more.

Wrapping her legs around him, her arms at his neck, Celia started a slow grind in his lap. He tightened his hold on her hips, his hands reinforcing her gyrations. "Just like that, come on baby," Evan urged.

Josie moved toward them then. She pressed her body into Evan's back, kissing up and down his spine, and he reached back, wrapping an arm around her waist. Guiding Celia's chin toward her, the two women's mouths met. Their heated tongues tangled and clashed as Evan pressed his wife's hips deeper onto his arousal. She moaned into Josie's mouth, grinding faster, taking more of him inside her.

Sweat dripped down the center of Celia's breasts and stomach, her breaths coming in hard pants. She lifted her body an inch and pressing her feet into mattress came down with a hard 'smack' against her husband's lap. Evan leaned back in Josie, watching her take her pleasure, his face a blissful grimace in the face of her enthusiasm.

He groaned. "Oh my fucking god, baby, ahhhh."

He hissed, then reaching back grabbed the back of Josie's head, fastening their mouths together. Celia angled her mouth, joining them in a three-way kiss, never ceasing in her quickening onslaught atop her husband's throbbing cock. God, had she missed this.

She threw her head back and picked up her pace.

Evan gripped her hips, a look of heated desperation on his face. "Yes, take it. Fucking take it," he gritted out. "You're going to make me come so fucking hard."

"That's it," Celia encouraged. "Come for me, baby, come on."

Jutting upright, Evan withdrew his cock and Celia got on her knees at the foot of the bed, taking him into her mouth. Josie crawled next to her on the floor, craning her neck and licking hungrily at Evan's ruddy sack. He lift his hips off the bed, lowering to his back, giving over to their merciless licks and strokes.

Celia sucked him hard and fast and he threw back his head, crying out. "Oh god, oh my god, suck me. Suck me, baby, I'm gonna come. Oh...oh yesss." His body lurched forward, convulsing with his release. His chest heaved, his fingers curled around the sheets at his back and side.

Grabbing Josie and Celia from off the floor, he fell back onto the bed, both of them cascading on top of him with a startled laugh.

They lay together in silent sated bliss for long moments, both women draped languorously at his side, Celia's slender fingers brushing lazily across his stomach. On her husband's other side, Josie tucked her head against his shoulder, her breathing calm and steady. She sighed, kissing Evan's chest, then replacing her head onto his shoulder.

It was odd, so odd, all of it, but...Celia felt complete. As if they, this act, had been a final piece in the puzzle. And, in a deeply peaceful state, she slowly drifted off into a tranquil slumber, a tranquility equally shared in that moment.

### Chapter 14

Two months later...

With graduation only a month away, Josie was scurrying around like a squirrel readying for winter weather. School was winding down, and in addition to exams, final papers, and graduation rehearsals, she was tying up loose ends like crazy to make sure she'd actually have somewhere to go next fall. She seemed to constantly be on the phone with either the admissions office at her new school or the student loan people, trying to make sure the funds were all in order for the upcoming year. In the midst of that, there were also final decisions to make on her college courses, figuring out whether or not she could afford the meal plan, determining if she'd be able to forgo working freshman year, and if not, how many jobs she'd need...

God, who knew you had to jump through so many complicated hoops when just trying to get a 'higher education.'

But oh well. It was worth it. And at least her summer leading into college would be an interesting one.

She would be spending the warm weather months at a camp for children with learning disabilities in southern Iowa. A program she'd stumbled upon while doing research online for one of her final papers, and luckily, one located only a few hours away by bus. The "We Learn Different, We Learn Better" (WLDWLB, for short) program. Calling to request information for her report, Josie had shared a two-hour phone conversation with the head counselor, an extremely smart, ridiculously energetic woman, who, it turned out, had even started out as a babysitter herself. Nell, also the program's founder, had been inspired to launch the camp after having worked for a couple of families with hyperactive children during college. As the years passed, she'd come to realize the existing programs weren't offering _comprehensive_ treatment that addressed 'the whole child.' That most of those she'd come across were, in fact, employing similar if not the same, carbon copy methods, and achieving similarly low child development rates. WLDWLB sought to provide _alternative_ learning techniques for children, ages seven through twelve. They used methods that the child _and_ their family could use at camp and then integrate once back at their schools and classrooms when tackling their studies. Their approach focused on combining modified learning skills with a healthy dose of outdoor activity and a balanced and nutritious diet. A diet that parents were taught and which they could easily incorporate into the children's regular routines.

The volunteers and paid employees Josie had been in touch with were so knowledgeable and down-to-earth and the camp sounded so advanced. It was the sort of programmatic approach that she had always wanted to observe up close and personal. Not until recently had Josie had the confidence that she could handle what a program like this would require. Honestly, _she_ still questioned her ability. But they had faith in her. Nell had said as much. They had a good feeling about her, and had faith in Josie's passion and her experience with and love for children. It would be a lot of work, they'd promised, but if she were up for the challenge, she would no doubt find herself rewarded. She would be an intern, there mostly to learn and observe, but she and the head counselor had discussed the possibility of her returning as an entry-level employee at the camp once she'd finished school, if the summer went well.

It was all a bit surreal. Scary. But she had a great feeling about her decision. She'd grown, changed over the last few months, and the person she was now felt there was much to be gained from venturing out of her comfort zone.

In the midst of all of these goings-on, the Sharps had thankfully had little occasion to enter Josie's mind. Those two weeks and what they had wrought, what fires they'd lit under her, inside her were still a near blur in her head. At times, parts of it returned to her as if scenes in a dream. As if she'd been transported to an alternate reality, and had only now returned to her normal existence.

It had been a little over two months since her last day of spring break, and aside from an occasional supermarket sighting, she'd hardly seen the Sharps. The money she earned during those two weeks was coming in handy. Celia and Evan had even gone so far as to send her a $500 gift card as a graduation present. She'd been able to buy some new clothes and a good bit of the supplies she needed for school. Josie had told her parents, but fudged the exact number amount, afraid they'd make her return it.

Something else Josie had chosen not to share with Mom and Dad Kendall was the letter that had arrived, along with her graduation gift card. Though Josie missed the family, Ben, Delia and Seth especially, her schedule made it difficult to find the time to visit. And, in truth, after everything, she still wasn't sure she would feel comfortable doing so. So when the letter arrived she hadn't known what it would hold.

She'd waited over a week to open it, in her head, expecting the worst. Was it a manifested grudge, a hate letter? A strong yet polite request asking her, 'for the sake of the children', to keep her distance? She'd even started to wonder if the gift card had itself just been an attempt to buffer the incoming blow?

After some time, Josie's curiosity took over. And so, one night, a week or so before graduation, she excused herself early from dinner, headed to her room and locked the door. It was time, she decided. To just pull off the Band-Aid; to put herself out of her misery – even if _added_ misery might result.

The letter had been made out and addressed to her, formal and indiscriminate. The handwriting looked very feminine – Mrs. S, no doubt – and her heart raced just holding it.

Unfolding it, Josie took a deep breath and forced herself to read.

It began on a friendly note. They congratulated her on graduation, declaring it a big step in a young person's life, relating how proud the family was of her, and how lucky they were to have moved into the Kenswoth community and met her.

Finishing page one, Josie breathed out a shaky sigh of relief. But, there was more.

The next few lines continued in praise. They couldn't wait to see what she chose to do after school, it read. She'd be wonderful at whatever career she went into, and they were happy to be able to provide a little help on her road to college. Both of them were still paying back college loans, and knew from experience just how costly a post-secondary education was these days.

The letter had a warm, one of genuine concern. Like something you'd receive from a great friend after a long silence. Funny and kind, and happily, full of updates from Casa Sharp.

They excused their silence. It had been a busy few months, Celia wrote. The family was considering a move back to Seattle. They'd received some interest in the house, but having grown fond of the neighborhood, still weren't sure. In the very least, they were going to wait until the children finish out the school year. Whatever happened, they said, they very much hoped she would keep in touch, and they would try and keep her abreast of how the kids were doing. Delia was always asking about her, Celia said, and wanted her to know that she'd renamed one of her 'favoritest, prettiest and most well-behaved dolls, Josie.'

That line had brought a tear to her eye as she read.

Seth had co-opted the Gameboy for his own personal use, and Ben wanted to thank her on behalf of Wylie. Apparently, the fickle hamster was really taking to the new cotton bed she'd suggested they make for him. Celia had been unsure about what that meant and had fastened a double question mark at the end of the sentence that made Josie smile.

_So that's where I left those socks_.

"They miss you so and ask about you constantly," Josie read, tears dripping onto her hands. "Please do consider stopping by to see them if you'd have a moment to spare?"

By that point, she'd completed about half of the eight-page letter. In the next portion, the tone changed slightly, becoming a little more serious, more intimate and confiding.

"On a more personal note," it continued, they wanted her to know that they were happy; and that, as they'd told her on her last night there, it was a happiness they never felt they would have come to without her. They understood why she might still feel uncomfortable in seeing them so soon after all that had occurred, but they wanted her to know that she would always be welcome at their home, whether here or wherever "their boisterous brood might end up."

They deeply regretted pulling her into their mess, yet they wanted her to know that the nights she shared with them had been deeply special to them both. Ones neither of them had taken lightly. They 'loved her dearly and owed her much,' it read.

At the very end, Celia had given her their personal e-mail addresses and asked that she send hers from school when she found the time.

Lastly, they'd signed it:

"With love as ever, thank you for taking such good care of us and for restoring our family, dear Josie.

Love,

The Sharps."

### The End

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Note from the Author

I was one of those people who thought romance books were silly, pure and simple; too over the top and surreal in their presentation. On a whim, I tried one in e-book format one weekend, and all too quickly found myself hooked. What I came to enjoy the most were the dichotomous elements; the linguistically sensual paired with the more raw forms of sexual expression: soft and rough, raw and tender, the brazen with the subtle. Though both styles can be equally titillating on their own, with this e-book, I tried to intermingle and integrate them both. I only hope that I've composed an offering worthy of the charge I've received from the books of this genre. Hope I've entertained!

### About the Author

Jessa Callaver is a novice American fiction writer.

The guiding influence behind her work has been the question 'what if?' After that, all bets are off and fantasy reigns supreme. You will no doubt find smart wistful female protagonists in her books. Women in different stages of life, of different dispositions and design, women seeking answers both within and without. And, being a woman of curious disposition herself, you should expect nothing short of a bumpy ride.

Her titles are available online at Smashwords.

Jessa has published four erotic short stories and is currently at work on a number of projects including a contemporary romance novel - her first. She had lived on two continents, traveled in three, and at present, exists among the waves of creative consciousness. See you at sea.

### Connect with Me

Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/JessaCallaver.

Visit it my website and sign up for my mailing list to receive updates, news on new releases and giveaways!

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### Other Books by Jessa Callaver

The Very Thought of Him (Book I: TVTOH Series)

Dara's in a slump. Her small-town workaday life is beginning to wear her thin. Bored one night, she encounters Kelly's ad online, and something is ignited in her. She flirts and he responds. The only question is, can she muster the courage to step away from what's safe?

Dara's Decision (Book II: TVTOH Series)

His body, his face...the torturous tease. He invaded her days and filled her thoughts at all hours. Could he be real? Could reality fulfill her desire? Now, Dara has another choice to make. One that yet again will lead her into uncharted territory and find her questioning chasing fantasy is ever worth the outcome. _Book III coming in 2015!_

The Goat and the Heathen (2nd ed.)

College roommates Aja and Olivia couldn't be more different. Olivia, the outgoing hot girl on campus, has arranged a little excitement for her stubborn and subdued friend. Will Aja be prepared for what her friend has planned? Moreover, for what the night might reveal?

In Gods' Hands

Masks, mischief, all-night partying. It's Carnival in Italy...for everyone but Cassandra Tracy. The girl who's never met a low-life she didn't like. Turned out onto the streets in the wake of her cheating boyfriend's latest indiscretion, she goes looking to drown her sorrows. And encounters...a most divine intervention.
