An Agency Story: Double Trouble (2 page)

Chapter Two

I decided I wouldn’t even ask them about Shanna, at least
for now. I mean, for all I know, the Stewarts actually did hire her to only take
care of the kids. Maybe it was nothing. I hoped against hope that it was.

Secretly, though, I could sense what was going to happen.
And how I would be pulled into it…if I would be pulled into it at all. If last
night was any indication, they still planned to live up to all the wicked
promises they had made to me.

In the morning, I walked downstairs to find Shanna already
making breakfast for the Stewarts and the kids. It was a little embarrassing to
be the last one up, but lucky for me no one mentioned it. She was in her
pajamas, standing in the kitchen, and handed me a plate of waffles as I came
down and smiled sweetly. “Syrup’s on the table,” she said, and licked a crumb
off her thumb in a weirdly cute way.

Okay, so she was pretty. It had to be said, I had to admit
it. Straight blonde hair, big blue eyes, alabaster skin and a surprisingly
large bust for her small frame. Basically, Shanna was a mini-Barbie.

Me, I was still bronzed from studying abroad in Argentina,
and my hair was a tangle of brown curls. She was the yin to my yang, and I
couldn’t help but notice that either.
Did they still think I was beautiful?

 I sat down at the table, and Mrs. Stewart winked at
me. She was finishing off an oatmeal raisin cookie and sipping her coffee.

“Shanna told us that you let her in last night when she
arrived—thank you.”

“Yeah, thanks!” Added Shanna, from across the kitchen.

She stirred her coffee with a spoon. “Maybe we should have
sent her the keys in advance. But we figured it might be nice for you two to
meet each other first. You know, without us interfering.”

I took a bite of the waffle. Of course, it was totally
sweet and delicious. Damn it.

“I—I’m glad to help,” I said, hoping that the waffle
muffled my voice.

Mrs. Stewart took another sip of her coffee. “Good.
Anyway, Geoff and I are going to go to the resort to get some good skiing in
before the big storm hits this weekend. Maybe you two girls should take the
kids to the playground in town while we’re out—get to know each other,
get to know the kids. Have some fun out there.”

I nodded, and took another bite of the waffle.

“And,” she added. “Since you’re a pro now, maybe you can
teach Shanna a thing or two. Show her the ropes.”

I lowered my eyes. “Of course, Mrs. Stewart.”

Her eyes sparkled knowingly.

* * * *

I found myself warming up to Shanna at the playground,
against my will. So, she wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she was
sweet. Really, really sweet. Good with the kids, maybe even better than me.
That was kind of hard to admit to myself, but it was true. They freaking adored
her.

Suddenly, Caden threw a snowball at me, and I ducked out
of the way. “Nice one, Caden,” I said, and creamed him with my own snowball.
His brother and sister cheered.

They never even
tried
that around Shanna. They
treated me like I was their tomboy older sister, which I guess I was. In
comparison to Shanna, anyway, who looked like and acted like an angel.

And that’s what I was thinking when the snowball hit me in
the face.

I was shocked. There was only one person who could have
done that, based on the direction the snowball had come from.

She was giggling. “Did I get you? I totally got you!” She
jumped up and down in delight.

I was trying to decide whether to be angry or amused, and
then I saw her face, blushing red from the cold and excitement, full of
happiness.

I found myself smiling, almost against my will. Wiping the
snow off my face, I glared at her. “Ugh, you did get me. You’re going to pay
for this!”

I chased her around the playground as she ran zigzag
across the snow. The kids followed us and tried to keep up. It was a frantic
chase, but at last I tackled Shanna into a big mound of snow.
“Gotcha,” I
said, out of breath and laughing.

She was practically rolling on the snow with laughter, her
cheeks even redder now from all the exercise.

Suddenly I was acutely aware of my hands around her form,
and the feel of her body in my arms. She seemed to feel the change too, and her
giggling died down.

That is, until the kids piled on top of us, all three of
them, wiggling and poking and punching.

We went back to the cabin totally exhausted, slightly
dirty, and desperate for as many cups of hot chocolate and marshmallows we
could find in the cabinets. I watched Shanna as she drank her steaming mug of
hot chocolate, and she grinned behind her cup at me. I couldn’t be mean to her,
I realized. It was too easy to like her. And...I was almost worried about what
she was going to have to go through. Almost.

* * * *

The Stewarts came back late in the evening, after sunset.
They ate dinner at the lodge near the slopes, and brought back a couple of
pizzas for the kids and the two of us. Naturally, since all we’d had was hot
chocolate and marshmallows (Shanna and I may or may not have finished off the
entire bag of mini-marshmallows), we were practically jumping up and down when
they came back to the cabin with the food.

I poured some sodas for the kids and sat down with them to
eat.

“It was a wonderful day,” said Mrs. Stewart, as if she
were still breathless from skiing. “So much sun, and such good powder. It’s
going to be a fantastic season.”

Mr. Stewart came to the table with glasses of wine for all
of us adults.

Shanna blushed slightly when he set a wine glass down in
front of her.

“Oh, no thank you,” she said. “I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Oh? Is it a religious thing?” He sat down next to her.

She wrinkled her nose. “Nah, I just don’t like the taste.
It’s kinda, I dunno...kinda bitter, to be honest.”

I giggled at her. I couldn’t help myself.

“Do you like grape juice?” I asked.

She thought about it for a second. “Yeah, sure, I like
juice.”

“Well, so, it’s basically grape juice,” I said, trying to
keep a straight face. “Just fancy grape juice.”

She picked up the glass thoughtfully and took a tentative
sip.

“Oh!” She paused, and then took another sip. “It’s sweet!”

Mr. Stewart smiled. “It’s a riesling,” he said. “A nice
dessert wine. We picked it up while we were in Germany last summer.”

“Do you like it?” Mrs. Stewart sipped at the wine in her
own glass. “It’s one of my favorites, too.” She turned to her husband. “Geoff,
you should get us a bottle of that Gewürztraminer. I bet the girls here will
love it.”

She was right, of course. The Gewürztraminer was even more
delicious than the riesling, and the chilled white wine went down like the
sweetest nectar I’d ever tasted. It was a lot better than the two buck Chuck I
usually got back at school.

We talked about Aspen, the ski season, the kids...I
started losing track of the exact topic somewhere around the third bottle of
wine. I did learn that Shanna was from Wisconsin, and I teased her about being
a cheesehead. In return, she made fun of me for being a valley girl.

It really was becoming impossible to dislike Shanna.

I could feel the wine soothing and relaxing my body. I
folded my arms on the table and rested my chin on my hands. It was so
warm
and
cozy
in here. I could feel Mrs. Stewart gently stroking my head.

“I think you two are just as tired as the kids,” she said.
The three Stewart children were struggling to finish their soda, and were
already rubbing their eyes. “You must have had quite a day while we were gone.”

She stood up. “All right. Time to get ready for bed,” she
said, turning to her children, who were barely awake. “Ashlyn, will you help me
get them to sleep?”

I nodded and picked up Caden, who was still clutching a
crust of pizza to his chest. “Okay,” I said, throwing him over my shoulder.
“Time for bed!”

It took almost forty-five minutes to wrestle the kids into
their pajamas, get them to brush their teeth, wash their faces, and climb into
their beds. Of course, they had to listen to their bedtime stories even though
they were tucked in and half asleep. No easy task, considering that I probably
had probably put away about a bottle of wine all by myself. Still, they were in
bed by ten, and Mrs. Stewart and I shared a high five and a huge sigh of relief
once it was all done. She bid me goodnight and went to the bathroom to wash up.

I remembered that Shanna was still in the kitchen.
Probably helping Mr. Stewart clean.
I should see if she’s ready to head up
and go to bed.
I walked back through the living room towards the dining
room—god, I was so tired I may as well have been sleepwalking.

What I saw made me wonder if I really
was
asleep,
and dreaming.

Mr. Stewart had Shanna pinned against the wall, one hand
on her petite waist, his dark head leaning down...the other hand was entwined
in her loose blonde hair.

He was kissing her, and the thing was…she was kissing him
back.

Her hands were wrapped around him, passionate, as if she’d
never been kissed before in her entire life.

At the sight of them, I felt warm and cold all at the same
time. I knew now that it wasn’t just the wine making me feel strange.

I turned and prayed they hadn’t seen me, and escaped
upstairs as fast as my feet could take me.

You knew this would happen…

The jealousy sitting in the pit of my stomach was back, as
if it had never been gone. I found myself half hating her, and yet...the sight
of them together...

I felt a familiar flicker between my legs at the vision of
them kissing. Unwillingly, I wondered what they would look like naked, his body
wrapped tight around hers. Her pale skin rubbing against his golden chest…then her
berry-red lips wrapped around his cock. Absolute torture.

Nothing to worry about. Too much wine. That’s what the
problem is,
I lied to myself.
I stumbled into my bedroom and crashed
into the bed, my mind and body in turmoil.

Chapter Three

I woke up with a pounding headache. The hangover was the
worst I ever had, thanks to all that dessert wine. I should have known better
than to drink that much or that fast, but three years in a sorority
house...well...my judgment and self-control wasn’t what it should have been.
And I never had that much self-discipline to begin with, anyway.

I rolled over and checked the clock. Nine o’clock.

Shit—I’m up late again.
All I could hope for
was that Shanna was even worse off than me, which she should be, since she was
obviously a lightweight.

I put on a tee and jeans and pulled my out-of-control hair
into a ponytail, and walked downstairs. I winced, noticing that the blinds in
the kitchen and dining room were all raised and bright light was coming in
through every window. Rubbing my eyes, I walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” said Mrs. Stewart, as perky as ever. I
suppressed the urge to moan.

“Looks like you win, this morning,” said Mr. Stewart,
hidden behind his newspaper. “Shanna’s still up in her room.”

Immediately, I wondered if he took her to bed last night.
Struggling to banish the thought from my mind, I sat down at the table.

“The poor thing,” added Mrs. Stewart. “It’s all our fault.
Guess we shouldn’t have started her on the wine quite so quickly, considering
how...innocent she is.” She smiled mischievously into her coffee cup.

“Where’re the kids?” I asked, realizing that their wakeup
time should have been an hour ago.

“Watching cartoons in the den,” she said.  “Don’t
worry about them, Ash. I was thinking that today, we should all take it slow.
The snow’s starting to really coming down, so Geoff’s going to make one last
trip into town for supplies, and he’ll take the kids off our hands for a couple
hours. I figured we girls should have a little spa trip—you know, a
seaweed wrap, a massage, some time in the sauna to detoxify from all those
indulgences last night.” I must have looked surprised, because she smiled at
me. “Our treat, of course. Oh, that reminds me—you must be starving.”

She got up, went to the kitchen, and brought me a plate of
scrambled eggs and fruit. I mumbled my thanks, although secretly I wished for a
giant pile of sugary chocolate chip pancakes and hash browns and bacon.
Everything covered in maple syrup, obviously. This was way too healthy to be
hangover food.

She took a long, deep sip of her coffee. “It’s been a
whole year. It’ll be a good chance for us to catch up, too.” She winked at me.

* * * *

Shanna was about as thrilled as Shanna could be,
considering she looked like she hadn’t slept all night. She plowed through her
plate of eggs and fruit with amazing speed, and when I told her about our plans
for the spa, she probably would have squealed with delight if she weren’t so
hung over.

After Mr. Stewart headed off in his Land Rover, the three
of us got into Mrs. Stewart’s car, Shanna and me sitting in the back like we
were sisters.

The snow was falling harder than it was when I got here, I
noticed. I wondered if we’d be stranded at the cabin for a few days—that
didn’t sound so bad, until I remembered the crazy effects cabin fever tended to
have on school-age children. I hoped the Stewarts had plenty of DVDs for the
kids, or a lot more wine for the grown-ups. Preferably both.

The streets and roads were covered in white. It took
awhile to navigate, but we finally pulled up to the spa, a sleek modern
building on the opposite side of town. Honestly, Shanna and I both looked out
of place there, but Mrs. Stewart was perfectly at home and in a short half hour
we were lying in a fragrant, dark massage room together.

I could hear the soft gasps rising up from Mrs. Stewart
and Shanna as the muscular masseuses worked their magic. I could feel my own
muscles loosening, and any sore spots I had fading into nothing. The attendant
handed us huge glasses of icy lemon-rosemary water after the massages, and then
we were free to go to the private sauna that Mrs. Stewart had reserved for the
next hour.

By this point I felt
so
much
better, and the
faint remnants of my hangover barely bothered me. I have no idea if it was all
the lemon water or the massage, but I was almost back to normal. My hair was
wrapped up in a towel and I had on the fluffiest, whitest bathrobe I’d ever see
in my life. I mean, sure, I looked ridiculous
—
but I felt
amazing.

And whoa, was I sweating as soon as I entered the sauna.
It was as hot as a desert in there, and I unwrapped my hair as soon as I could
to try and not overheat myself.

I turned around to toss the towel on the floor and noticed
that Shanna was standing there, right by the door, looking confused and shy.

“Hey,” I said, smiling. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, playing nervously with her robe. “I’m
fine. It’s just really hot in here.”

“Aren’t you going to take off your towel?”

“Oh,” she said. “Should I?”

“Unless you want to pass out from heat stroke,” said Mrs.
Stewart with a smile. Her hair was down and loose around her shoulders.

Shanna seemed to hesitate. “Okay,” she said, and slowly
took off the towel.

Mrs. Stewart studied her for a moment and then looked
knowingly at me. “Oh,” she said. “I think I know what you’re worried about.”

Shanna only blushed.

“You don’t want to get undressed in front of us,” said
Mrs. Stewart. “Don’t worry, Shanna, it’s just us girls. You can wrap a towel
around yourself. But you probably don’t want to stay in that robe.”

Shanna nodded at this, and carefully wound a towel around
herself before shrugging off the robe. Mrs. Stewart smiled at her, friendly,
before turning to me.

“Let’s not scandalize Shanna,” she whispered, giggling
like a schoolgirl. We both put on towels and sat down on the wooden benches to
enjoy the heat. Shanna joined us after a moment’s hesitation.

“That massage felt
so
good,” she said, clearly more
comfortable now.

“Yeah, thanks, Mrs. Stewart,” I said. “I’ve never had an
experience like this.”

“Oh?” She looked amused. “You two never had a massage in
your entire lives?”

“Well, sure, massages,” I said. “But boys tend to be bad
at them and my sorority sisters aren’t much better. They’ve got these tiny
little hands.” I grinned.

“I’ve never had one,” said Shanna. “I—I liked being
touched like that, though.”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Stewart. “I like it too. And Ashlyn, I
have to prove to you that girls can give good massages.” She slipped her warm,
oiled hands over my neck and shoulders, raising goose bumps along the way.

“Oh,” I muttered, turning my back to her. “That feels good
already.”

She rubbed her fingers up and down my neck, and then
stroked down along the tops of my shoulders. She moved in a little closer,
running her hands down my arms and all the way down to my fingers. Her hands
were hot, but in spite of that I shivered.

It seemed to have gotten quiet in the sauna. I opened my
eye lazily to see Shanna staring at us, wide-eyed.
Yes,
I thought to
myself.
Go ahead and watch, innocent little girl.

Mrs. Stewart nuzzled my ear gently as she massaged my arms
and shoulders. “Mmm,” she murmured. “I love the smell of that sandalwood oil on
your skin.” I felt her hands sweeping across the top of my back.

I felt her fingers slipping the towel down one inch.
Another inch. Her skilled hands kneaded my skin, and I was coming undone with
pleasure.

“Would you mind,” she whispered in my ear, soft but loud
enough for Shanna to hear, “if this came off?”

I was beyond words at that point. I shook my head gently.

“Good,” she murmured back.

Her fingers dug into the sides of the towel and peeled it
down, exposing my creamy breasts, my nipples, everything down to my waist.
Still not satisfied, Mrs. Stewart pulled the towel off my lap and dropped it on
the floor.

I was totally naked now, my oiled body shining in the dim
light of the sauna.

I didn’t dare look at Shanna. Instead, I turned my head to
Mrs. Stewart, desperate for those soft full lips that I’d been dreaming about
for an entire year. She kissed me, first just grazing her lips against mine,
then deeper. Harder. I opened my mouth and let her explore me with her wicked
tongue.

I opened my eyes briefly and saw that she was looking at
Shanna, a naughty look in her eye. It sent a delicious thrill through my body,
and I leaned into the kiss even more.

As the gentle sounds of our kissing echoed in the room, she
reached out from behind me and cupped my breasts, one in each hand. Her hands
squeezed them gently, the feel of oiled skin-on-skin totally exquisite, the
pressure of her hands like a massage on my sensitive.

“Isn’t she gorgeous, Shanna,” she said, her voice faintly
husky. “Look at these tits.” She made light circles around my nipples with her
fingertips, and a soft moan escaped my lips. “Doesn’t she look good enough to
eat?”

At this, she stood up from behind me and leaned me against
the back of the bench. Free now to look at my naked front, she made a soft
groan of appreciation. “When Ashlyn was with us last year,” she said, still
speaking to Shanna, “I could not
believe
how delightful she was.” She
put a hand on my stomach, enjoying the way my muscles twitched at her touch,
begging for more.

“So gorgeous. So
responsive
.
So…
sweet.”
She lowered her mouth and flicked her tongue over a nipple. I arched my
back in response.

Taking pity on me, she sucked the dusky rosebud into her
mouth, stroking the breast with a hand. My pure animal need began to grow out
of control as she scraped her teeth against my flesh, the pleasure building
between my legs. Groaning, I felt a slickness between my swollen folds now, and
a hunger for her touch—anyone’s touch...

I whimpered with disappointment when Mrs. Stewart lifted
her head away. She turned her head towards Shanna, who was sitting only a few
feet away.
Had she come closer?

“Shanna,” she murmured. “Isn’t she lovely?”

To my surprise, a soft, tentative
yes
emerged from
her lips.

Mrs. Stewart smiled warmly at this, her eyes full of
desire. “Well, then,” she said. “Come here and take a better look.”

Shanna walked over to where we were sitting. I was so
drugged with pleasure that I could barely keep my eyes open. But through my
half-closed eyes I could see that her lips were red and open, her eyes dark
blue with intensity. She kneeled down next to me and without being told, cupped
my other breast in her hand and tongued my nipple into her mouth.

Oh, she licked and she sucked
hard—
like was
dying of thirst, like she’d been waiting for this all along. The intensity of
her assault on my erect bud caught me by surprise, and I cried out for the
first time.

It didn’t stop her, though
—
she only licked
harder, kissing and sucking me like she was starved. Mrs. Stewart merely
lowered her lips to my other nipple and then both of them were on me, tugging
and playing with my nipples, until I finally begged them to stop.

I stared at the blurry ceiling, breathing hard, the stiff
peaks of my saliva-covered breasts sensitive and slightly raw. I waited, my
senses tingling as I wondered what they’d do next.

“Kiss her,” said Mrs. Stewart, her voice rich and velvety.
“Shanna, don’t you want to know what she tastes like?”

Shanna leaned over me, her face flushed with lust, but
still showing a touch of uncertainty.

“Can I?” She whispered, her voice high and hesitant. “Can
I please?” I didn’t know who she was asking, but I didn’t wait for Mrs. Stewart
to answer. I slipped my hands into her hair and pulled her head down, bringing
her lips on top of mine.

Oh, she tasted good. Her heart shaped lips were firm and
hot and delicious, and I encouraged her gently with the tip of my tongue. Her
lips closed on my bottom lip, suckling and nibbling gently. I moaned and let my
hands wander down her towel-covered front, and underneath the terry cloth I
could feel her nipples, huge and hard.

Shanna broke away and pulled back, kissing down my neck
and red-flushed chest
,
running her hands over my skin
—
playing
with a woman’s body for the first time. She was so gentle, like she was afraid
she’d break me. When she opened her eyes to look at me, they were wide as if
she couldn’t believe that this was actually happening.

Mrs. Stewart caressed my soft thighs with the back of her hand,
clearly enjoying her view of Shanna’s tentative exploration.

I tried to stay still but I twitched and sighed
involuntarily as Shanna stroked me.
Under her little towel,
I thought to
myself,
she’s as wet as I am.

Suddenly, Mrs. Stewart caught Shanna’s hand.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she said softly. “Aren’t you
curious? Don’t you want to know what she feels like?” She parted my legs with
her hand, baring me completely. With a glint in her eye, she inched Shanna’s
hand down towards my drenched, creaming slit. Shanna just let it happen, her
mouth half-open with desire and yearning.

Mrs. Stewart’s hand first guided Shanna’s fingers gently
up and down my cunny, barely grazing the surface of my skin. When her palm
skated over my clit, I jerked my hips up.

“Oh,” she whispered. “You see? She likes that.”

Their joined hands slowly parted my folds, exposing my
wet, pink pussy to their view.

Shanna glanced at Mrs. Stewart, who nodded back at her.
She lowered her damp blonde head between my legs and
kissed
my clit,
rubbing her pouting lips and the tip of her tongue against the delicious little
nub.