Page 5 of Maid for Daddy

“They’re so adorable,” I swoon as Stephen opens the stall and I step inside.

He makes a clicking sound with his mouth and one of the foals steps toward us.

“Give him a rub,” he encourages me.

I reach out and rub the top of the tiny horse’s head. It’s like a dream come true for me. I’ve loved horses my whole life. The closest I’ve gotten to one was the time my father took me to the racetrack to watch from the stands.

Lost in the moment, I fail to see the mare backing up toward me. In the cramped space, she swings her hips and sends me reeling. Stephen catches me in his arms, stopping me from falling flat on my face. With his arms around my waist, I feel his body pressed against mine.

His warm breath makes my whole body tingle as he asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

He holds me so long that I begin to wonder if he’s ever going to let me go. As we stand silently in the stall, I feel his manhood grow and press against my thigh. My better judgment tells me to pull away. I should set him straight right off the bat.

This kind of thing is inappropriate, right? Then why am I not moving? Maybe the idea that someone like him can find me attractive is just too hard for me to believe.

After a very long delay, he removes his hands from my waist and steps in front of me. He takes my hands in his and looks into my eyes. “You’re sure you’re okay? You have to be careful when you’re dealing with animals like this. They’re gentle but that doesn’t mean they can’t hurt you.”

“I understand. I’m okay.” I can’t help but wonder if he’s talking about the horses or himself.

3

STEPHEN

The smell of dinner cooking greets our noses as we return to the manor.

Samantha and I part ways so we can each wash up. I make haste to my room and run the shower. Maybe some cool water will help the massive erection I’ve been carrying since Sam fell into my arms.

She must’ve felt it, and I half expected her to whack me in the face when she did. The fact that she didn’t makes me swell with wanting that much more. I doubt I can be near her without having a perpetual tent in my pants.

She’s standing awkwardly in the kitchen when I come back downstairs.

“Have you two met?” I ask the cook, Sherry.

“We have. Samantha says she’s the new housekeeper. Where did we find her?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, she’s a very pretty girl. Will you be needing anything else from me this evening, sir?”

“No. You’re free to go.”

She nods and moves to the pantry to hang up her apron.

“She called you sir,” Samantha whispers.

“And?”

“You told me to call you Stephen.”

“That’s right, and you will.”

I escort her to the dining room and pull out her chair.

“May I ask why? From what you told me, Sherry has been here for a long time. If she calls you sir, shouldn’t I do the same?”

“No. I told you to call me Stephen because that’s how I prefer to be addressed by you. Sherry has a traditional role to play here and that comes with certain formalities. My father would have skinned her alive if she dared to call any of us by our names. This situation with you is anything but traditional. Would you agree?”

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