Read Online The Babysitter And The Beast (Shapeshifter Werewolf Breeding And BDSM Erotica) by Ana Meadows - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ana Meadows
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hard wood and polished to a shine, while the furniture was sparse. A kitchen table and chairs were present in the dining room through the doorway, and there was a loveseat for company, but the main focus of the room was a coffee table and a recliner huddled around a small TV. There were lots of windows, lending the place a sunny look, but while they were letting the light in, Monica could see that they were strange as well, reflecting Monica in them as though they were two way mirrors. The walls were unadorned except for the mantle above the fireplace, which held a composite bow and a sheaf of arrows. A door off the to the side led to the kitchen, she presumed, and another one on the side of the room led to the bedroom. What she didn’t see, Monica mused, was children’s toys or belongings.
“Where’re the kids’ rooms?” asked Monica.
“Kids?” said Gaelin curiously. “There aren’t any children here. It’s just me.”
“But the ad said –“
“The ad said I needed a sitter. I do. I need one for my house. Is this a job that you think you can handle? I can afford someone else; if you don’t think you’re right for the job.” Gaelin turned away then, leaving Monica to think about it.
“Oh, well no, I mean, yes! Yes, I can take the job. When will I start?
“Right now, if you like. I could use getting a head start on my travels.” Gaelin told her to make herself at home and went into the side room. She looked around, admiring his things. An ornate bookshelf stood against one wall, full of books that were all pristine first editions from the eighteen hundreds. A Persian rug dominated the floor. His tastes were expensive, and the cottage was very nice, a wonderful home for a bachelor, or even a couple. There was still something strange about it she thought, as she looked around. It was a perfectly ordinary place, everything was just old. Monica crossed the floor into kitchen, and it creaked under her feet as if it were ancient. The kitchen was immaculate, for something belonging to a bachelor.
It was clean and white, but strange was the cook stove. It was an old wood burning stove, something right out of the pioneer days. The long black stove pipe climbed up the corner and out to the roof. Cast iron pots and pans hung on the walls and in the opposite corner was the pantry door. She peeked inside, surprised to find it empty. Didn’t he eat, she thought. She was just closing the door when he slid up behind her again, this time tapping her on the shoulder as he spoke.
“There are some things in the fridge, and there’s a store not far from here,” Gaelin said casually. Monica jumped out of her skin again and he chuckled. “Jumpy aren’t you?” She poked him in the chest.
“Mister, I don’t know you, but you’d better stop!” Gaelin threw his head back and laughed at her. He was completely bemused by her. Her eyes flashed and she was on the verge of slugging him, but he took a step back and waited for her.
“I’ve got to go,” he said, “I’ll be back in two days. Make yourself at home, I’ve even put clean sheets on the bed. Keys are under the mat if you need to leave.” With that, he strode out and got into his car, cranking up and driving away. Monica fumed. Not only was she in a strange house of a strange man, he hadn’t even offered to discuss paying her.
The rest of the day was uneventful for her as she wandered around the home that she was sitting for. The cottage was nice; it had two rooms a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen, all of it decidedly male. She opened the door to his bedroom, expecting to see a bed, but instead she saw a pile of furs piled in up in the corner next to a fireplace that wasn’t smoldering but recently used. It seemed, there was no heating or air conditioning here, but instead a number of fireplaces and plenty of windows.
Venturing outside to the backyard, Monica was surprised to see a well kept garden of
“Where’re the kids’ rooms?” asked Monica.
“Kids?” said Gaelin curiously. “There aren’t any children here. It’s just me.”
“But the ad said –“
“The ad said I needed a sitter. I do. I need one for my house. Is this a job that you think you can handle? I can afford someone else; if you don’t think you’re right for the job.” Gaelin turned away then, leaving Monica to think about it.
“Oh, well no, I mean, yes! Yes, I can take the job. When will I start?
“Right now, if you like. I could use getting a head start on my travels.” Gaelin told her to make herself at home and went into the side room. She looked around, admiring his things. An ornate bookshelf stood against one wall, full of books that were all pristine first editions from the eighteen hundreds. A Persian rug dominated the floor. His tastes were expensive, and the cottage was very nice, a wonderful home for a bachelor, or even a couple. There was still something strange about it she thought, as she looked around. It was a perfectly ordinary place, everything was just old. Monica crossed the floor into kitchen, and it creaked under her feet as if it were ancient. The kitchen was immaculate, for something belonging to a bachelor.
It was clean and white, but strange was the cook stove. It was an old wood burning stove, something right out of the pioneer days. The long black stove pipe climbed up the corner and out to the roof. Cast iron pots and pans hung on the walls and in the opposite corner was the pantry door. She peeked inside, surprised to find it empty. Didn’t he eat, she thought. She was just closing the door when he slid up behind her again, this time tapping her on the shoulder as he spoke.
“There are some things in the fridge, and there’s a store not far from here,” Gaelin said casually. Monica jumped out of her skin again and he chuckled. “Jumpy aren’t you?” She poked him in the chest.
“Mister, I don’t know you, but you’d better stop!” Gaelin threw his head back and laughed at her. He was completely bemused by her. Her eyes flashed and she was on the verge of slugging him, but he took a step back and waited for her.
“I’ve got to go,” he said, “I’ll be back in two days. Make yourself at home, I’ve even put clean sheets on the bed. Keys are under the mat if you need to leave.” With that, he strode out and got into his car, cranking up and driving away. Monica fumed. Not only was she in a strange house of a strange man, he hadn’t even offered to discuss paying her.
The rest of the day was uneventful for her as she wandered around the home that she was sitting for. The cottage was nice; it had two rooms a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen, all of it decidedly male. She opened the door to his bedroom, expecting to see a bed, but instead she saw a pile of furs piled in up in the corner next to a fireplace that wasn’t smoldering but recently used. It seemed, there was no heating or air conditioning here, but instead a number of fireplaces and plenty of windows.
Venturing outside to the backyard, Monica was surprised to see a well kept garden of
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