Hers to Keep (Quintessence #1-5)

by Serena Akeroyd

She’d never realized until now that she found intelligence attractive. Her dumbass ex had been a gambler for a living—he’d worked in the City on the Stock Exchange. At the time, she’d known he was smart. But a...

How could Sean raise a topic because he believed it would come to a head soon, then… nada. It was like the biggest pussy-tease going. She’d been prepped, all engines revved and raring to go, but it was for nothing.

Was it any wonder she wanted to stir things up a bit? When he cleared his throat, she had to bite back a satisfied smile. He knew. A sapiosexual was someone attracted to intelligence—and boy, did she have an endless source of that wafting through the house.

It was nice knowing they were gentleman, but that didn’t help the situation in her panties.

What was it about them that hit her in all the right spots?

“I’m your housekeeper,” she said bluntly. “But you don’t treat me like that. None of you do. I don’t understand it, but it’s the truth. You defend me and shield me from Devon’s prying. He teases me, makes me laugh with his batshit questions.

Sean supports me… I mean, I’m just your employee,” she gritted out. “But guess who bought this stuff for me?” Sascha pointed down at her lap. “Sean. He heard me talking about it to Devon. ‘Lo and behold, today, I have a ‘How-To’ magazine with the basic kit. He listened. Do you have any idea how attractive that is?

“Then, there’s Kurt. He checks up on me. Makes sure I’m okay. That I’ve eaten. If he sees me stressing over the household accounts, he’s there with coffee and a hu...

“And Sawyer? When I told him I was thinking about working out again? He created a plan for me. Worked it out and everything. We’re starting joggin...

“Can’t you see, Andrei?” she half-pleaded, hating herself for sounding desperate, hating the tears that burned in her eyes with the sudden desire she had to be theirs. “I want all of that. But I want it for me. As mine. Not as a woman who works in your house; which, to be fair, wouldn’t change if we were… together like that, you know? But, the way you treat me… I crave more. Can you blame me?”

Her admission had him blowing out a breath. “You feel loved.” She bowed her head. “Yes.”

“Maybe at first, the notion was exciting. Kinky, even. You’re sexy, and I have eyes and hormones like anyone. You all get me hot under the co...

“Pizda rulyu. Nu naher,” he whispered against her throat, then loomed

“She wants to be with us, Sean,” he finished, his words soft but his tone heavy. “Why do you look like someone just told you your dog has died then?” Confusion filtered through his words. That she wanted them, that Andrei believed her, was something to celebrate, wasn’t it? “Because she could hurt us,” Andrei confessed thickly, his eyes somber and bleak. “They all hurt us,” Sean told him matter-of-factly. It was sad but true.

Every time they’d done this, had tried, it had blown up in their faces. It was why he’d told them he refused to try again, but with Sascha and Devon getting on so well, then her fitting in like she was made for them… it had been hard not to get excited.

“Were you working before I came in?” she argued. “Well, yes, but I’m working all the time. My brain doesn’t stop. That’s why I can’t sleep.” She frowned. “We need to work on that.” “How?” “Oh, I don’t know. We could do yoga together? Something like that? Meditation might be good.”

“I was hoping you were going to say sex.” Laughter gurgled from her. “That too. Not tonight though.” She matched him; her nose wrinkled too as she confessed, “I’m sore.” With a commiserative grimace, he nodded. “We’re all quite big I’m afraid. It might take you a while to get used to us.”

“I guess it’s gone around the house by now then, huh? What I want?” “I told them from the start,” he stated crossly, folding his arms across his chest with a huff. “They wouldn’t listen. They’re all scared you’re going to walk out on us.” Stilling at that...

“Surely not everyone?” He shrugged. “You mean women.” “I mean everyone. It can’t have escaped your attention that no one really contacts us outside of work.” “I had noticed you don’t seem to have much family.” “We have family, they just don’t talk to us all that much.” “Why not?” “They have their reasons.”

“I guess I can understand that. I don’t talk to my dad as much as I’d like because of my stepmother.” She held up her phone and shook it. “I see most things on here. It’s my connection to home.”

“You haven’t always been a housekeeper?” She chuckled. “I’m not sure it’s one of those types of professions, Devon. But no. I majored in hospitality and management, but I didn’t want to work in a hotel or anything like that. When the agency saw that on my resume, they said they had a client who wanted someone to ‘manage’ their household. I did, liked it. Carried on with it.”

“Why did you leave?” “They moved to Dubai.” “You didn’t want to go?” “I could have gone. They asked. But I like London now.” She smiled. “It’s home.”

“You called the States home.” She jerked a shoulder. “I have two homes. One where my old friends and family are, then here, one of my choice and a life of my own making.” “Would you move back?” “Are you asking because you think I’ll leave?” “Everyone...

“What kind of reason?” “I don’t know, don’t be jerks. Don’t treat me like shit. Don’t underappreciate me.” He rubbed ...

“Women are basic creatures. Pet us, keep us warm, feed us, love us and tell us yo...

“I should probably write that down.” Sascha chuckled. “I’ll remind you. Don’t worry.” “Do,” he directed with a somberness that had her eyes widening; it was unusual for him to be so serious. “I don’t want to mess this up, Sascha. I like you.” Her smile grew slowly. “I like...

“I like how you interact.” “Explain.” “Your dynamic, it suits me.” When he cocked a brow, she knew he wasn’t going to let this drop. “I get bored, Devon. It’s a nasty fact, but I do.” “Bored about what?” “Just… everything. I’m quite smart,” she confessed. “Nothing like you.” “That’s relative,”

“Intelligence is a bottomless pool. I’m capable of making millions but paying the electricity bill? It’s beyond me.”

Sascha wanted to merge into their world. Not alter it. That realization was probably more confusing than anything else that had happened that day, and she didn’t even know why.

As one of his favorite songs—Muse’s Feeling Good—played on the radio, Sean watched as Sascha pulled a fancy U-turn in the tight parking lot, then made a few more moves as she parallel parked in a space he wouldn’t have tried to get in with a Mini. She did it with an ease that bemused him.

“Most men don’t like it when women drive them.” He huffed. “I’m not most men.” He craned his neck, watching as she effortlessly straightened the large Caddy, then with a flourish, shut off the engine and put on the handbrake. “You did that like a pro.” Hell, she drove better than he did.

“This baby handles like a dream. She drives me.” “No.” He shook his head. “This space is tiny. I wouldn’t...

She didn’t know it, but she had the ability to destroy their ordered world.

The fall out of her leaving would have repercussions she’d never foresee, never imagine. Why would she? She didn’t know how delicate Devon’s mental health was. How Kurt’s was just as precarious.

They were men, and it seemed the world thought they were infallible because they had a dick. No one was infallible. It was folly ...

Janna would have taken the card and bought everything in sight. Whether it was for the event or not. Helen, another ex, would have sniffed at the idea of going to a boring event, and would have refused to go. Kelsey would probably have agreed to go, would have dressed up, but in the end, would have cancelled. She’d been flaky. Irritatingly so.

Sean had to rationalize everything—even if it was to his own detriment. Only when he understood a situation, could it be categorized.

Sawyer said he was a nitpicker, but it was why they counted on him. He was the unelected ‘head’ of the household because he made sure all the I’s were dotted and all the T’s were crossed.

So, while he knew she fit them so perfectly, he...

Seeming to know that Andrei actually did need a date but had no one he wanted to ask. Understanding that Devon needed to sleep more, so she’d slept with him last night, encouraging him to rest when he’d have stayed at his desk until mor...

Feeling a bit like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman—a movie he’d suffered through for his sisters—he got to his feet, strolled over, and retrieved a credit card from his wallet which he handed over to the assistant. When she saw it, the exclusive card that only vendors in this particular area were accustomed to seeing, her attitude changed entirely.

From snotty to obsequious in less time than it took a Ferrari to hit sixty miles an hour.

Sascha grabbed his arm, hissed in his ear, “You’re not paying for this.” He tugged her aside, bent down and murmured, “I want those stilettos around my ...

“I know, you’re not a kept woman. But like I said, they’re my gift to me. Let me be selfish.” She gulped. “Around your ears, huh?” “And digging into my arse.” “That can be arranged,” she whispered, and he loved how the need he’d inspired made her tone raspy. He winked. “I’ll look forward to it.”

The money she’d spent was negligible to him, but not to her. It charmed him that she hadn’t expected him to pay. If anything, it made him want to spoil her. Talk about inadvertent reverse psychology.

“I thought we were going to find a nice, sturdy changing room?” He gritted out, “You were being serious about that?” Her laughter was lighter than air and just as energizing. She grabbed his hand tighter. “I was being serious about that. Deadly serious.” “Fuck, we need to find somewhere. Now.” “Hard, baby?”

She rolled her eyes because even though she was two seconds away from climaxing, broken arm and what she figured was a concussion be damned, Devon still had a way of amusing the fuck out of her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked crossly as she rubbed at her temple again. “Thank you,” was all he said. “For what?” “Giving a shit.” She blinked at him. “Oh.” His smile was warm. “Yeah. Oh.”

“I know how to defend myself.” He chuckled. “You do, do you?” “Aye, I do,” she said in a mock brogue. “My dad’s a cop. He busted enough pedos, rapists, and pervs to scare me into learning how to protect myself from predators. Now, I can prey on them. How the world turns,”

“Is the dress sexy?” “With five guys in charge, what do you think?”