Free Owning our Au Pair: Billionaire BDSM Menage by Kat Richards Page A

imagine what it'd be like to be so rich and so drop dead gorgeous too. They're both twice my age, I only hope I look so good when I'm in my forties.
    The baby monitor crackles, Thomas will be ready for his feeding soon. I close the door behind me and head for the kitchen to prepare his formula. My phone chimes as I put the pot on to warm his bottle so I pull it out to check my messages. Facebook opens and Sarah has commented on my photo of Mrs. Cliffe.
    I'd lick that gash all night!
    I blush. What if my mother sees that? Though I have to admit, Mrs. Cliffe is a very sexy woman. The dress she chose for tonight was low cut in the front revealing plenty of cleavage. It dropped to the knee but left her incredible calves exposed and had a nice slit up the side so you could see hints of her thigh. She had her long hair bound up into a bun behind her head but the curls dropped around her face framing it perfectly.
    Mr. Cliffe is every bit as sexy. Tanned, chiseled features, his incredible green eyes look like they see the future. He's strong but not overly muscled. Perfect, casual athleticism that some men seem to pull off naturally. While I know Mrs. Cliffe works out daily, Mr. Cliffe only remembers to go to the gym three or four times a month.
    Mr. Cliffe is the founder and CEO of Cliffe Industries. It's a consulting firm of some kind, I don't honestly understand exactly what he does except be stupid rich. After I was hired it became very clear that my duties were to take care of him almost as much as their four month old child. Mr. Cliffe's incredibly brilliant but has a tendency to not have much attention left over for what's going on in front of him. Small things like socks, combing his hair, or buttoning his shirt correctly completely confound the man because he's too busy to put any attention on unimportant details.
    The dynamic between Mr. and Mrs. Cliffe is interesting. He likes to have all the details laid out for him so he can sweep in and present his big idea. He doesn't care how they get done or who does them as long as he doesn't have to stop to worry about them. Mrs. Cliffe controls everything, no detail is too small to escape her notice and she's very particular in seeing that everything is done to her expectations.
    At first it was hard. My first month here was full of trepidation and uncertainty. I was not only over three thousand miles from home in a strange country, I had this very exacting woman who oversaw every detail of how I did the jobs I was assigned. Once I learned her expectations it became easier.
    Working for Mrs. Cliffe has been the most rewarding thing I've done in my life. She's demanding and expects nothing less than the best but I like the challenge. It makes me strive to be better every day. And success is always rewarded. A word of praise from Mrs. Cliffe may be rare but when it comes I know I've earned it. The Cliffes do make me feel like part of the family. I have my own rooms and a schedule. We have most of our meals together when everyone is home, they treat me as much as part of the family as one could expect of the bosses you live with.
    It's lonely and I miss my friends and family but once I've been with them six months they'll pay for my tuition at Brown University. My lifelong dream and I could never make it happen without their help.
    I take Thomas his bottle, feed him, then get him settled in for the night. Before I go to my own rooms I remember that Mr. Cliffe absolutely trashed his closet. I decide to go and put things to right.
    I slip into their room then into his walk in closet. Mrs. Cliffe's are next to his, they each have their own. I pick up all the clothing that has been thrown around, sorting what will need pressing, and folding what I can. I get it all picked up in a few minutes then head out to the main room. Mrs. Cliffe's closet is open and there’s her rack of dresses. They're so beautiful. My heart skips a beat at one day being able to wear dresses like these. I smile