Victoria The Billionaires Maid

Oliver’s [POV]

Sage opened her locker long enough to grab her coat, then tugged it on and disappeared through the rear break room exit.

I stared after her. Her leaving was both a curse and a blessing.

Trouble in my pants? That’s what she called it when a man was helplessly aroused by the sight of her in simple white cotton.

I wasn’t proud of it. I’d tried to hide my predicament by remaining in the hall. But I’d followed her to give her back her phone-and yes, perhaps get another glimpse of her curves-so I’d had to man up.

Now she probably thought that I wasn’t well-endowed because I’d been on the way down from an erection. Thanks to reciting the time’s tables backward in my head, no less. Even that had scarcely been enough to combat her allure.

The scent of her brought back memories of summer. Sunshine and green grass and the breeze off the lake. A sorely needed reminder of warmer afternoons on this frozen, chilly gray day. Layered overall had been the aroma of strong black coffee. It had smelled a damn sight better on her than it tasted in the cup.

But my control had saved me from reacting as much as I could have. I wasn’t a teenage boy any longer. Bad enough I’d popped a semi in the first place. At least I could get it back in line. I’d taken pride in the fact that I could stand that close to her, surrounded by her perfume with her scarcely concealed breasts right there, and manage to remain merely at half-mast.

And now she probably thought half was as good as it got.

A growl worked its way free of my throat. Trouble. I’d give her trouble. How I wasn’t exactly sure.

She didn’t like me. I wasn’t overly fond of her. Her decision-making skills were questionable at best. Accepting random radio station contests to travel alone to the city of sin and searching for men on the internet named Moose, for Pete’s sake.

Unless that was why she found me lacking. A man named Moose probably hadn’t been named for his mammal-sized brain. But I was not a small man myself. Far from it.

Even if I was now tempted to make a stop in the men’s room just to reassure myself of that fact.

Another thing I was tempted to do was follow Sage to grill her about her exact meaning. Perhaps I’d gotten it

wrong. We sparred often, and rarely spared feelings. I didn’t have to worry she’d look up at me with a trembling chin and tears in her eyes. On the surface, she appeared fluffy and sweet and easily hurt. In reality? She had a backbone of steel and a smart mouth to match.

As for her tits, I wasn’t going there. They weren’t relevant. I wasn’t even usually a breast man, though obviously, I could appreciate a fine pair. If I had to single out a part, asses were more my thing, but I tended to view women as a whole as exquisite creatures. Besides, the brain was the sexiest organ of all-and Sage’s enticed me beyond measure. It was so twisty and detoured in so many ways I didn’t expect.

Like why a homespun woman like herself whose persona practically screamed “I knit my cable-knit sweaters and binge-watch HGTV and collect mementos for my future two-point-five kids’ hope chests” was so hell-bent to get laid in Vegas.

It must be the virginity thing. I’d been a late bloomer myself, not having sex until freshman year of college. Near misses had occurred a few times before that, but I’d attended an all-boys private school and had been focused on keeping my GPA at a level beyond my father’s reproach. Seth had been the ladies’ man in the family. I’d been the well-behaved one who never made waves.

I frowned as I tugged on my tie. Some might still say I was the well-behaved one. Which burned my craw more than a little. But I’d never wanted to risk my future. Hadn’t our father drummed that into my head enough?This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

Wrap it up, or you’ll be sharing your fortune with a gold digger.

That message had been received loud and clear. Not as well as my twin, however. He’d ended up with Laurie from a backseat mishap, but she had turned into the best and brightest part of his life.

Now he was married to his high school best friend and they were having a baby and were blissfully happy. As for me, I was at loose ends.

Nothing new there lately.

The business was booming. Our tourist hamlet of Crescent Cove was nestled just close enough to the lake to bring visitors to the area in droves. The Airbnbs and bed-and-breakfasts in town were making money even now, despite it being the coldest part of winter in New York. Sage’s parents’ place had been equally profitable until they’d traded it all in for early retirement and days of seeing the world through the tiny windows of a house on wheels. They’d sold it to those who saw progress much differently and believed Crescent Cove didn’t have to remain the same to be true to its historic heritage.

Sage would not agree. I did not doubt that.

She was on her own in town now. Her parents are gone, and her best friend and roommate Ally was newly married and expecting. I supposed it made sense Sage wanted some adventure in her life, but the free trip she’d won from a radio station wasn’t the answer.

Hell, she’d probably get to travel coach for her trouble.

Then there was Moose. That name sounded vaguely familiar. I hadn’t attended high school with Seth and Ally and Sage, though she’d been a couple of years behind them and hadn’t known them then. I’d been exiled at prep school, but still, a lot of the usual suspects who’d attended the local high school were townies and hadn’t gone far. I’d have to ask Seth if he remembered-

No, I would not. Moose Masterson and Sage’s romantic difficulties were not my issues. She was a friend of my sister-in-law’s, so of course, I was concerned about her well-being, but concern had its limits.

It stopped far short of the bedroom. And clandestine Facebook searches.

A couple of waitresses entered the break room, chattering and laughing before suddenly falling silent. One of them was middle-aged and behaved as a grandmother might with most patrons who came into the diner. Not me, of course. She treated me as if I were as deadly as a rapidly mutating virus. The other woman was quite young.

I shifted, encompassing them both with a smile. “Hello, Jean,” I said, swiftly turning my attention to the petite redhead at her side. “You must be new?”

“Y-yes. My name is Stacy. Stacy Bennington.”

“Nice to meet you.” I held out a hand, simply to be polite. “I’m Oliver Ham-”

“She’s in college,” Jean snapped, grabbing the redhead’s arm and hustling her away from me.

Lovely. I couldn’t even attempt to exchange friendly greetings with the women in this place without them getting all prickly.

Almost at once, Sage’s voice invaded my brain.

Your reputation precedes you, manwhore.

“This room is for employees of The Rusty Spoon,” Jean said from behind me. “And only them.”

Okay then.

I saluted them. “Have a good day, ladies.”

Stacy blushed, and Jean shot me eye-daggers that Sage would’ve appreciated. She might’ve even been a student at Jean’s knee herself.

Guess I was going to take my coffee to go. Hopefully, Ally would be ready to leave. I’d had a purpose for visiting the diner this afternoon, and it wasn’t to get every female in the joint riled up.

Why I wasn’t even sure.

I was a decent person. I volunteered at the soup kitchen. I babysat my niece with the minimum amount of bribery. I prided myself on getting my clients the absolute most money possible for their property. I was a fine brother, brother-in-law, son, and friend.

I even braked for squirrels.

Just because I enjoyed bedding beautiful women for a brief time before parting mutually satisfied, did that make me worthy of being treated like a pariah in my hometown?

Yes, invisible Sage affirmed. Absolutely.

I adjusted my platinum cuff links branded with the Hamilton crest and walked down the hall with my dignity intact and the last of my erection firmly banished. At this rate, I might not ever get hard again.

Who was I kidding? I had a date with Ursula on Friday night, and she was ravishing. She also didn’t have a problem with our arrangement being casual.

She did not.