A Baby for the Babysitter, page 1
A BABY FOR THE BABYSITTER
A FORBIDDEN ROMANCE
CASSANDRA DEE
Copyright © 2022 by Cassandra Dee
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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To all the girls who’ve had that babysitting job go sideways. This one’s for you!
CONTENTS
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Sneak Peek: Taken By The Beast
Sneak Peek: Shared
About the Author
ABOUT THIS BOOK
Marcy:
I have multiple jobs which include babysitting and moonlighting as a hostess for a gentlemen’s club called Sanctum.
Guess which one is filled with naughty filth?
Yes, you’d be right. There are things that happen at Sanctum that I can *never* put on my resume, but I love it anyways.
One day at a special play party, I meet a man who’s so gorgeous that my thighs squeeze tight with deliciousness. He’s got broad shoulders, sculpted abs, and a certain something that makes me whine with ecstasy. We set off fireworks so hot that I’m surprised the club doesn’t catch fire and burn down.
But everything that happens at Sanctum stays hush hush, right?
Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. I’ve also got a new babysitting client who needs help with his little daughter.
But when the front door opens, I gasp with shock because it’s HIM! The huge, gorgeous billionaire that I entertained just last night! OMG, our paths aren’t supposed to cross in real life!
Even worse, Jared thinks that I have to do whatever he wants because he’s technically bought and paid for my time. But what the billionaire doesn’t realize is that actions have consequences – and he’s getting a baby before this night is over!
* * *
Hey Readers – We’re back at Sanctum for some spicy fun! This book is a sequel to Taken By The Beast, but this time we’re following Marcy, Bridget’s saucy friend who also likes her fun embedded in pure filth. It’s a special trick called belly-dancing *wink wink* which can only be done in the confines of the club. Don’t get me wrong because the Sanctum girls have hearts of gold, it’s just that they also have curvy bodies made for sin, and they’re not afraid to use them! Lose yourself in this filthy tale of love, desire, and everything in between. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers.
1
Marcy
* * *
I hop off the subway, lugging my overstuffed bag on my shoulder, huffing from the effort. It’s full to the brim with makeup, a change of clothes, a water bottle, and sky-high stilettos. It’s so stuffed I can’t even zip it all the way, so I clutch it carefully against my body and hope that nothing falls out because that would be utter disaster. After all, who wants to be scrabbling on their hands and knees on a dirty NYC subway platform as pedestrians rush by? It’s unclear whether anyone would even stop to help me. Hmph. That’s city life, I suppose.
As a result, I climb the subway steps carefully until I reach the busy street. My fellow citizens shove past each other, all in a rush to catch the next train or get to their next appointment, but I stop to look around. Where’s Petunia? Oh, there she is. My buddy’s standing across the street, and I wave wildly to get her attention.
“Pet! Pet!” I shout loudly over the noise of cars honking loudly at one another. It’s a scorching day and I can already feel the sweat beading on my forehead and under my arms. Eeew gross, this is getting nasty and it’s exactly what I don’t want. I shift my bag uncomfortably to my other shoulder, wishing I could get some relief from this heat.
“Pet!” I call again. “Over here!”
My friend finally sees me and waves back, dashing across the street at the last second before the light shifts to red. In typical New York fashion, someone blares their horn in protest, but Pet just rolls her eyes and then waves brightly at me once more.
“Hey Marce,” she calls in return, somehow managing to jog in her stilettos. Someone should give this girl a prize.
“Petunia, you are a crazy person to be wearing those shoes already,” I tell her as I plant a quick kiss on her cheek. “Why didn’t you just keep them in your bag and wear sneakers until we get to Sanctum? Did you actually ride the subway in those things?” I demand, eyeing the six-inch shoes warily. They’re a gorgeous purple color, but the heels look like chopsticks that could easily get caught in a grate. Or break, come to think of it.
Pet giggles. “Nah, I splurged for a cab. I was running late and I couldn’t stand the idea of getting onto a hot train. You know that there are very few places where I’m willing to get packed in like a sardine.”
I wipe at my damp face. “Yeah, I should have probably done the same because look at me now,” I say ruefully, glancing at the damp spots forming under my armpits. Gross. But then I glance at the time on my phone. “Thankfully, I should have time for a quick rinse at the club before we have to start performing, so let’s go.”
“Yeah girl, I’m going to need one, too. Still. I can’t believe I have to walk four blocks in this heat,” Pet whines.
“You could have taken the cab directly to Sanctum, you know,” I say with a smile. “I don’t mind.”
Pet just scoffs. “I said I would meet you at the subway stop, and here I am,” she insists, sniffling delicately as if I’ve offended her. “Hos before bros,” she pronounces magnanimously.
I giggle. “Don’t you mean bros before hos? But I guess it’s the opposite for us because we are the hos!” I giggle. “No seriously though, you’re the best. Now let’s hustle because the sooner we get to the club, the sooner we can shower so that I don’t become a steaming pile of sweat and flesh.”
With that, Petunia and I hurry along the crowded streets. Despite the suffocating temperature, it seems like more New Yorkers than ever are out and about on this humid Saturday afternoon. We pass a guy with an intense purple mohawk sitting next to a preppy looking lady in a Gucci sundress. Even crazier, they’re actually talking like they’re best friends.
“Only in New York,” Pet observes as we hurry past the odd couple.
I nod.
“I know, right? I thought the city was supposed to empty out in the summer but it seems like everyone’s still here,” I say while we wend our way through throngs of random people.
Pet nods.
“Girl you and me both. I guess these are all the people who can’t afford the Hamptons, and unfortunately, that includes us,” Pet says with a sigh. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to afford to go East?”
I think for a moment.
“I don’t know, but if I ever get rich, I promise to take you to the Hamptons. We’ll have a huge house all to ourselves, along with a peanut shaped swimming pool and as many mimosas as we can drink.”
Pet smiles. “I’m holding you to that peanut-shaped pool,” she grins. “Any other shape won’t do.”
With more giggles, we hurry forward and a few minutes and several crowded blocks later, Pet and I reach our destination: Sanctum. The building isn’t much to look at from the outside, but that’s the whole point behind its understated design. It’s a huge, stone structure with shuttered windows and a small gated courtyard out front. It looks normal, and not at all like a den of sin, which is its true function.
The doorman holds the glass doors open, and Pet and I gratefully step into the main lobby, which is air-conditioned, thankfully.
“Dang, that was tough, and it was only four blocks,” I say.
“Yeah,” Pet remarks. “Come on, let’s get to the locker room.”
We make our way through the lobby, which is also relatively innocuous looking. Of course, there are marble floors and nice bouquets, but those are all par for the course in Manhattan. Soon, we’re in an elevator on our way up, and I turn to smile at my friend.
“Are you excited for the event tonight?” I ask, taking a deep breath.
Pet giggles. “I guess. To be honest, I can’t believe I let you talk me into doing this because I don’t know anything about belly dancing.”
I giggle.
“Yeah, but you know what I told you before. This is Sanctum belly dancing, so it’s not exactly your normal wiggle of the hips.”
Pet nods.
“I’m intrigued I have to say,” she murmurs. “I had no idea it was even anatomically possible but then after you showed me those YouTube videos … woo hoo! It’s going to be crazy.”
I wink.
“You got that right.”
But then, the elevator dings and we arrive at our floor. Unlike the inconspicuous exterior and lower lobby, the private areas of Sanctum are at another level when it comes to decor. The elevator doors open to reveal a plushly carpeted hallway, along with glittering
Hurriedly, Pet and I wind our way towards the dressing rooms, our excitement mounting. Tonight’s going to be great, and as hostesses we dance, sing, drink with our clients, and make a lot of tips. Of course, what we do isn’t exactly above board, but that’s part of the thrill. After all, life at Sanctum is all about fantasies, and we like to indulge on occasion.
Once we get into the women’s locker room, we stuff our bags into our lockers and then shower quickly, washing off the stickiness of the New York heat. I pad toward my little nook in the locker room and quickly begin getting dressed.
“That shower was heavenly,” I sigh while slipping on a lacy bra. I scoop my boobs upward so that they look even perkier and stare at myself in the mirror. The lace is so sheer as to be practically transparent, and of course, it’s about two cup sizes too small so that my orbs spill out in creamy swells.
“I know, I totally needed it,” Pet agrees, her face contorted as she carefully applies eye makeup in the mirror. Then, she steps back and admires her work. “Girl, I love this eyeliner!” she raves. “This is amazing.”
“Isn’t it the best?!” I agree, nodding approvingly at her handiwork. “Estee Lauder has really outdone themselves,” I state, “and my employee discount is worth its weight in gold.”
After all, I don’t work at Sanctum full-time. Instead, my main job is selling cosmetics at a high-end department store, and then I also moonlight as a babysitter on occasion. I know, it’s so schizophrenic but you have to do what you have to do to get by in NYC because this place is expensive. For me, that means working three jobs in three completely different fields, and I like it actually. Each position is a nice break from the others, even if I have to focus to get my head in the right space sometimes.
“Your employee discount is pretty sweet,” Pet muses. “I wonder if I should start working at a makeup counter since I spend so much money on cosmetics. Seriously, I’d save so much money.”
I grin. “Yeah, Estee Lauder doesn’t pay a ton, but their commissions are okay, and the discounts are definitely a perk. Although obviously, it’s Sanctum that’s keeping a roof over my head. I don’t sell enough lipstick to pay rent. Not even close.”
Pet nods.
“I know, girlfriend,” she sighs. “My real job pays so little too,” she laments. “I think everyone at my level has a second job, to be honest. I mean, thirty thousand dollars? Who can survive on that in New York?”
I nod, sweeping my curly brown hair back from my face as I run a brush through it. The locks are glossy and full, and I rub some product into it to give it even more of a sheen.
“Yeah, I mean we should count ourselves lucky because we’re surviving. But that’s the thing. I don’t want to just survive. I want to be able to live,” I say. “Is that too much to ask? I recently stopped going to Starbucks because I can’t afford their drinks anymore.”
Pet nods knowingly. “I know. I never went there because specialty coffee has always cost a fortune. But yeah, it’d be nice to be able to afford Frappucinos on a regular basis, right? And not just once in a while?”
I nod. “Yeah, it would be nice,” I say in a soft voice. “It would be a total dream.”
But then, Pet looks up, changing the subject.
“Ooh did you hear that the girl from the spa got pregnant?” Pet whispers, her voice low. “The pretty redhead who always has perfect nails?”
“No way!” I exclaim, surprised by this news. “Who’s the dad?”
Pet shakes her head. “No one knows, but I mean, it’s got to be one of the clients, right?”
“Wait a minute. I thought the spa girls weren’t supposed to get down with clients,” I tell her, frowning.
Pet just shrugs.
“Yeah, but you know how this place works. One, the clients always get what they want. And two, who knows what she was doing in the spa? I mean, those things can be very Jeffrey Epstein-ish.”
I snort.
“OMG, don’t start. Sanctum is nothing like Jeffrey Epstein. We’re in our twenties, Petunia. We’re adults.”
Pet waves her hands.
“No, I don’t mean that in the gross, nasty sort of way. I just mean … well, you know how those massages can turn out sometimes.”
I nod.
“Yeah, and I think happy endings are how most of the guys like it, to be honest. I mean, the whole point of this place is to help them destress while engaging in total hedonism. It’s an escape from real life, and we help them do that.”
Pet nods. “Yeah, I guess it was just unexpected, and no one knows what’s going to happen next.”
“She’ll figure it out,” I say helpfully. “I’m sure they’ll work something out together. Plus, a lot of the guys here want to be dads, and there are also quite a few marriages too. Look at Bridget and Todd. She used to be a hostess too, but now she’s married to a billionaire.”
Pet sighs.
“I just hope that happens to me one day.”
I shoot her a smile.
“It will, I promise. We just have to keep living our lives in the meantime. Come on girl, chin up. We need to look happy for our jobs because it’s almost go-time!”
With that, we finish adjusting our outfits and grab a glass of the complimentary champagne that’s on a tray by the door.
“To another wild night at our top-secret job,” I tell her and clink my glass against hers.
“You make it sound like we’re super-heroes or something,” Pet laughs before she takes a long, slow sip from her glass. “Ones who wear skimpy lingerie,” she adds with a rueful expression. It’s true because both my friend and I are dressed in almost nothing. Our bra tops aren’t much more than postage stamps, and we’ve got brightly-colored g-strings on with the thong buried dirtily in our backsides. But for this particular belly-dancing event, we’re also wearing tiny sarongs wrapped around our waists. The fringed material has little bells dangling off the edges, and a sweet, tinkling music chimes at every movement.
“We kind of are like super-heroes, albeit in lingerie instead of capes,” I decide, winking at Pet over the rim of my glass. “Because we have these secret identities that no one can know about. Imagine if my employer found out that I work here. Or your employer. OMG, I’d be fired so fast.”
Pet nods.
“It’s a secret life, for sure. But hey, we hang out with billionaires for fun and make lots of money doing it,” she agrees. “So it’s worth it right?”
With that, the champagne is done and we put our flutes down before taking a deep breath. It’s time to head to the lounge for some good times, and to be honest, I’m a little nervous because I’ve only been to a belly-dancing event once before, and it can be eye-opening.
But you like the adrenaline, the voice in my head reminds me. You live for it, so just ride the wave, Marcy.
With that, I flash one last smile at my buddy as we traipse through the hallways of Sanctum. Then, the large double-doors to the lounge open, and inside, pure hedonism awaits.
2
Marcy
* * *
The lounge is dark, but done up luxuriously with jewel-toned pendant-lamps and crimson carpeting which gives it a gothic yet elegant feel. A long oak bar graces one side of the room, and low-slung couches are scattered about. There’s a small dance floor off in the corner, but at the moment, no one’s dancing. Instead, handsome men in suits stand in small clumps, chatting with cocktails in their hands. Many of the women have yet to make an entrance, so Petunia and I are two of the first.
Pet gets into it immediately. “I spy with my little eye someone tall, blonde, and sexy as hell,” she whispers in a low voice. “Goodness he’s handsome.”
