The Tiger's Den

Amelia Ashton was having one of those days.

She was dragging her wheeled suitcase up the pea gravelled drive of her new employer, which was rather more difficult than she ever imagined.

Then she had to fight with her umbrella in the gale force wind and then the teeming rain, which had poured down as if God was pouring a bucket of water directly over her which had ruined her long glossy hair frizzing it up and turning it into a rats nest within five seconds of getting out of the cab.

The last straw had been the stupid pea gravel that got stuck in the wheels of her case and stopped dead almost dragging her arm out of the socket. Her hand slipped off the handle and she only just saved herself from face planting on the drive. That was all she needed, to be picking gravel from her chin in front of her new employer.

Taking a deep calming breath, “Keep calm, you can do this,” she muttered under her breath. She had sort of told a huge fib to get this job. Well, her sisters would never have given her a reference, they just wanted to keep her with them and use her as an unpaid slave.

Well no more, Ruby had been vile to her, accusing her of ruining a three hundred pound top by putting it on a boil wash! As if she would ever do that. She knew Pearl had done it, but she was the last person to own up to something like that. She didn’t even know how to use the washing machine!  

Anyway, she had left her tiny box room in their flat while they were away on a shoot in Spin. They were expecting her to pick them up from the airport on Wednesday, but they could think again. She had finished with them. They could find another slave. 

She knew that she had been lucky to get this position. It was a position for a middle-aged lady with plenty of housekeeping experience. The preferred candidate for the job had refused it; saying that she couldn’t live with two men who would bring girls home all the time. It was against her beliefs.  Desperate to keep their famous clients, the agency had dispatched Millie post haste.

Standing under the stone pillared porch, Millie shook the rain from her umbrella. She parked her case next to her and rested her handbag on top so she could search through it for a mirror.  There was no way that she was ringing the bell without checking her appearance.  Wiping the mascara from under her eyes with a rain-dampened tissue, she blotted her hair with it and ran a comb through her fringe and rang the doorbell.

Millie stood there long enough to think she had the wrong house, or there was no one in, and she pulled her phone out to check the address.  The address was correct, and she put her hand up to ring the bell again, but before she touched it; the door opened wide to reveal a dishevelled and  drunken man 

The smell of stale alcohol reached her nose, and she took a step back. He was in an awful state as he wove about in front of her, clutching the door frame to keep upright. 

Daylight seemed to have an adverse effect on him as he screwed his eyes up. The miserably grey day was burning up his retinas, and he peered out at her from sleepy eyes.

Millie gazed up at him. She noticed that even though he seemed worse for wear, he still had the looks of a GQ model. Dressed in an unbuttoned hyacinth blue shirt and jeans, the top button still unfastened. Millie was privy to a full set of hardened abs and the top of his obliques. The golden tan was not out of a spray can, it was more Indian Ocean island. His long sun bleached hair had half escaped from the baby pink elastic band on top of his head, and he kept pushing it back behind his ears.

“Lo,” he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. 

“Hello,” she smiled.

He was looking down at her case and she watched as he glanced up, taking in her wet shoes and slim ankles and shapely calves. His eyes drifted up over generous hips and her waist accentuated by the tied belt of the coat .

His eyes stopped at her bust, and one corner of his mouth turned up.

“Hey, eyes up here”, she said, clutching her coat at the neck.

He blinked and grinned at her. 

“Do you mind?” She asked, trying to stop him from undressing her with his eyes.

He closed his eyes and shook his head as if to banish a dream. He focused his eyes. 

“Wh, whoo,” he stuttered.

“I’m here to see Mr Henderson, Nick Henderson?”

“Er... Yeah, come in,” he beckoned her, and as she reached for the case, he put his hand on top of hers to get it for 

“Who are you?” He mumbled as he dragged the suitcase into the hall.

“Amelia Ashton, the new housekeeper.”

Gabriel heaved a sigh of relief. “Result!” He said punching his fist into the air and only just missing Millie’s nose.

“Nick’s watching football, he’ll be so pleased to see you,” he said, not noticing that he had almost knocked her cold.

All she saw was a grin that showed he had dimples. Millie’s stomach lurched in pleasure as her resident butterflies took flight and she watched him stagger down the hallway to the sitting room.

“This way Am lia  er... Am lle a ,” he tried again, this time pronouncing all the letters “Am e li a!” He finished with a triumphant smile.

Millie bit her lips to hide her smile as he opened a door and she followed him into an enormous sitting room.  She glanced around, noticing what she thought were windows at both ends of the room. All the curtains drawn and the only light came from the enormous television on one wall showing a Chelsea football match.

“You owe me five hundred, Hazard just scored.” said a disembodied voice coming from the twilight in front of her. 

“Fuck off! They played this match last night I told you he’d scored.” 

There was a chuckle coming from the sofa that, which now that her sight had adjusted, Millie could make out in front of her.

Gabriel clapped his hand over his mouth casting a glance at Millie “I’m sssorry for my unbelievabubly foul language.” 

Millie smiled at Gabriel, “don’t worry, I’ve heard much worse.”

“Fuck” the disembodied voice breathed, and a head shot up to look over the back.

Millie saw short tousled dark hair and glittering eyes.

“Introduce us Gabriel.” his voice was firm and demanding.

Gabriel hiccuped “This is, this is...” he turned to face her, “Who are you again?”

“Amelia Ashton, the agency sent me, I’m your new housekeeper.” She could barely take her gaze from the hooded eyes that seemed to watch her like a hawk.

Gabriel nodded, “Millia new housekeeper,” he slurred as he sank down in a chair. His eyes had closed before his back had even touched the chair."

The man with the hooded eyes stood up, and Millie watched as he leaned over his friend and reclined the chair he was sleeping in and covered him up with throw he dragged off the sofa.

He walked over to stand in front of her and she had to tip her head right back to look into those eyes now. He held his hand out.

“Nick Henderson, I’m sorry, I’d forgotten you were coming.”

He made Millie feel rather nervous. She held her hand out and his large and warm hand engulfed hers and did nothing to ease the thought she might be making her acquaintance with a delicious and terrifying danger. Like walking into a tiger’s den.

“Sorry about Gabriel, he’s had an upsetting day. Let me show you to your room.” He grabbed her case and went back into the hall and down the stairs.  Millie followed him. He was wearing a white running vest, and it was impossible for her to take her eyes away from the multiple armband tattoos decorating the muscles in his arms. So much so she missed the last step and went careering towards his golden skinned back.

Nick spun as she squealed and caught her before she fell. She ended up with her chin resting on his breastbone and looking up into his face.

“Falling for me already?” He murmured with a sardonic grin. He held her for what seemed like a lifetime to her, but wasn’t long enough. Eventually he stood her upright and shook the raindrops from her coat off his bare arms.

“You’re wet.” He drawled.

Millie blushed scarlet. How the hell did he know that? He made her feel things she hadn’t felt before. A tightening inside, and parts of her seemed heavy, swollen. For god’s sake, she’d only just met the man, and she knew her panties were soaked. How did he know that?  

“I didn’t realise it was raining.”

“Yes,” she replied, “yes it’s raining, it’s pounding down thank you.” She was babbling, she always babbled when she was embarrassed. Not wanting to look at him, she turned to look at the room. The kitchen was large and modern, and Millie had never seen such a mess. It covered every surface with piles of empty foil containers and pizza boxes.  Empty beer bottles, juice containers and plastic milk bottles with cottage cheese in the bottom of them. The rubbish bin was overflowing and there was a distinct smell of rotting food.

Millie put her hand over her lips to stop the disparaging words erupting from her mouth.

“Sorry we would have cleaned up, but sorting Gabriel’s love life takes forever.”

Millie scoffed and turned it into a cough when he glanced down at her. As if that would excuse the devastation of the kitchen. Oh well, thought Millie, Gabriel’s love problem must have been dragging out for quite a while judging by the state of the kitchen.

“How long have you been without a housekeeper? She asked almost whispering she didn’t want to make a noise in this man’s company, she didn’t want to draw his attention to her.

“Here you go,” he said, “there’s a bedroom, bathroom and a sitting room. You can use the main kitchen.”

The little apartment was beautifully decorated .Millie looked out of the French windows to the garden. On the side table, in the sitting room were a bunch of keys.

“Those are keys to the main door of the house, and to your rooms. I’ll leave you to get settled in and fetch some milk. Do you cook?”

“Yes, do you have any food or are you living on pizza?” She said indignantly.

Nick pursed his lips, trying not to laugh, trying to keep the upper hand. “I assume you want to write me a list?”

“That would be an excellent idea” she said without realising that she had spoken her thoughts. “What would you like for dinner?” she added.

“Steak?” Nick suggested

Millie got her notebook out and wrote a shopping list, trying to keep her hand steady and hoping that Nick didn’t see it shaking.

Once he had gone Millie heaved a sigh of relief and she rummaged in the kitchen drawers looking for black bags to clear the rubbish away. By the time he returned, this kitchen would be near spotless. Impressing Nick Henderson would be a splendid thing, especially as he made her heart beat very fast indeed.

By the time Nick had returned with the shopping, Millie had disposed of all the rubbish and she was dancing to the radio as she cleaned the fridge out. She was practicing her Beyonce moves and had her back turned to the stairs so she didn’t realise he was there.

He sat on a breakfast bar stool, one ankle resting on his knee, his foot tapping to the music as he enjoyed her little show

All he could see was her beautiful bottom jiggling to the beat. Her head and arms were in the fridge, probably scrubbing the rock hard chow mein sauce that Gabriel had knocked over and not cleaned up.

She was way better than Beyonce, he thought, and he knew Gabriel would adore her. Watching her with half-closed his eyes, imagined himself standing behind her holding her skirt up as she jiggled against him with her bare ass and preferably with his cock up inside it. He smirked as he enjoyed the feeling in his groin and watched her for a few seconds more. Not wanting to embarrass her, he slipped off the stool and sneaked back up the stairs. He would wake Gabriel up. They needed to have a conversation about the delectable Miss Amelia Ashton.