Her face heated to an uncomfortable level and, like any other time she was mortified, she started to sweat. She knew she was the color of a ripened tomato. It was a curse, a damn-it-all-to-hell curse. Without saying anything, Lola walked over and grabbed the bottle, mumbling her apologies under her breath. Ian let her have the bottle without any resistance and she was thankful that neither of them pointed out the obvious, that she had been checking them out. It wasn’t her fault though, because men who clearly worked out like they did and had bodies to show for it had to know the effect they were going to have on the female population.
Lola didn’t wait around for them to finally open up those perfectly delectable mouths and call her out. Gripping the bottle like she could strangle the life out of it, she practically sprinted out the patio doors. The weather was nice, and she needed to get out of that house and away from those men. She may have wanted them in the worst sort of way since first sight, but she wasn’t a fool. Men like them didn’t want a woman like her. She was their maid, for heaven’s sake, and she knew the kind of women they took to bed -- women that came from high-class, wealthy families. They were women with mile-long legs, big fake tits, and unnaturally blond hair.
Once in the pool house with the door shut behind her, she set her bucket of cleaning supplies down and exhaled roughly. She glanced up at her reflection in the mirror in front of her: Her dark hair wasn’t smooth and straight. The curls were unruly because of the humidity and it looked like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical outlet. She was short, by normal standards --hell, standing next to Ian and Max, she only came up to their delicious chests. Her breasts were probably the best assets on her body -- not fake and of a pretty good size, with a natural slope to them. But it was clear the McKnight brothers preferred the silicone look.
She cupped her breasts through the thin white T-shirt and tilted her head. Not bad, and to hell with them if they thought any less. Forgetting about them for about five minutes, Lola went about the task of cleaning the pool house. Bras and panties littered the floor and couch, and she wasn’t even going to get started on what she found in the bedroom. Who in the hell, especially at their age, fucked so much? They were nearly forty, for fuck’s sake. Of course it wasn’t like they were ancient, but she was younger than them and she wasn’t even getting any. All that money, plus their good looks, probably attracted women like bees to honey. What she needed to do was quit thinking about their fine asses and get the job done, so she could go home and not have to worry about seeing them for another week. Of course, that was easier said than done.
Chapter Two
When Lola was finally finished with the disgusting pool house, she headed outside and immediately heard the sound of feminine laughter and splashing water. Great, maybe she’d walk in on a nice orgy. Cue the freaking sarcasm and eye rolling. She opened the door and lo and behold, found two scantily clad women in the pool, atop Ian and Max’s shoulders, playing a game of chicken. Their monstrous breasts jiggled as they tried to knock the other one down. Why in the hell they even bothered wearing those miniscule triangles was beyond her. The material only covered their nipples, and that was stretching it.
Water splashed in every direction. Did these men have lives, outside of fucking women? For as much as they screwed during weekends, she doubted they could even get it up during the week. For all she knew the two women squealing like schoolgirls were the same from the previous night. It sure would explain the marathon session, and the overly loud screams coming through the wall. There she went again, thinking about their butts, naked, as well as other parts of their anatomy.
Lola tried to be inconspicuous because she was still embarrassed about her encounter with them in the kitchen, but of course she couldn’t go unnoticed.
“Hey, Lola,” Max’s deep voice called out to her and she stopped and looked at him. “Wanna come in for a little dip? It’s kind of hot out today, and I know you must be stifling in all those layers.” He did a really slow once-over of her body and she felt her face heat.
Looking down at her clothes, she had no idea what he was talking about when he said “layers.” She was wearing a thin-ass T-shirt and cutoff jean shorts – probably the least amount of clothing that would be considered acceptable in the company of one’s bosses. But she was cleaning their house, and they had never specified her wearing a uniform. If they didn’t like what she wore to clean up their whorehouse, then they could come out and tell her.#p#分页标题#e#