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Cleaning House

(c) Kat Morgan

It had been such a good idea at the time, mused Margarita as she drove through the late afternoon traffic. A second honeymoon for her parents. A romantic cruise through the Caribbean over New Year’s. A wonderful way to usher in the new year. And what a way to thank them for all the things they had done for her over the years. Besides, who better to have a second honeymoon than the parents whom still were, years later, deliriously in love with each other?

So she had slapped the money down. Bought the tickets. Depleted her savings account. Determined to make this the best Christmas present ever.

And then her boss decided that the division needed some changes.

Read: I want to change you. Preferably into that willowy redhead from Accounting who has been so helpful to me as I get over my divorce.


Margarita sighed. The severance package had been okay, but not enough to see her through after her huge expenditure. And this was NOT the time of year to be job-hunting. It would be late January at the earliest that she would find something: people just didn’t hire before Christmas, and at the beginning of January they were busy trying to do all the projects they’d ignored in favor of eggnog.

Thank god for Helen.

Her old high school friend had started a highly successful cleaning company called Neat Freak. Margarita laughed when she thought of it. Sure, Helen’d been the oldest of five and had always called upon to keep things neat. She was very good at it. But then, and even now, her own room always looked like a tornado hit it. Yes, her house, and her office, were immaculate, but people have been known to get lost in the mountains of junk she kept piled in her bedroom. Helen was a contradiction.

Even now she was. When Margarita had bumped into her, and poured out her unemployment sob story, Helen had offered her a job on the spot. Surprising considering how determined Helen was to be seen as a prudent businesswoman. A future "Florida Business Woman of the Year" doesn’t just hire an old friend without checking her out first.

But Helen had done just that.

"I’m serious, Marg. I need the help. Desperately," she’d said. "This is a busy time of year for me. Everybody wants their houses spotless in time for the holidays. We are booked and double-booked. And I need people I know will do a good job."


"Hell, you know where I am coming from on this. You had to keep up appearances in your family, too. Look, it’s only for a little while. You said you expected to find something in January. So this will help you keep food on the table until then, and believe me; you would be doing me a bigger favour than I am doing for you," Helen had insisted.

So here she was a few weeks later, her car filled with a vacuum, mops, buckets, rags, and cleaning solutions. She had to admit; she rather liked the work. It left her mind free to roam, but also gave her a sense of accomplishment. And, as Helen had said, the work was steady. And the tips good. Many a busy homeowner had been overjoyed to have that massive task off their busy schedules.

And Margarita could finally understand why Helen left her own room a mess. It was nice to have some control over your own space. She chuckled. She had actually gone out of her way to throw a few things on the floor last night because her place had looked too orderly.

She turned down the radio as her cell phone chirped.


"Marg? What are you up to?"

"Hi Helen. Just heading home."

"Umm… Do you have any plans this evening?" Helen asked hesitantly.

"Not really? Why?"

"Want to do another job?"

Margarita groaned. Okay, she was enjoying this, but she had also been dreaming about a long bubble bath ever since she had stuffed the buckets in the trunk.

"Please?" she asked pleadingly.

Helen was not the type to beg.

"What’s the catch?"

Helen sighed. "It’s one of my regular clients. He’s away a lot and he just got back after a few months. He just wants the place set to rights. Just a quick going over he said, but I warn you the place is huge."

Marg groaned again.

"He knows this is really last minute. He just wants to get the accumulated dust gone. He said he’d even pitch in if need be."

"So why not do it himself?"

"Like I said, it’s a big place. And, well, he has these dogs…."

"Dogs? Big dogs?" Margarita asked warily.

"No. Little ones. Pugs, I think he called them. They are rambunctious and, like I said, he’s been away and they are glad to see him. He can’t clean and keep them amused at the same time. Please, Marg. He’s been a good client. A real nice guy, too. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours…"

Helen was begging again.

"Okay. Fine. Give me the address. But you owe me for this."

Helen was right. The house was huge. A couple of hours, yeah, right. She’d be here all night…

She pulled all of her equipment from the trunk and the back seat and trudged up to the doorway. She rang the bell and listened to it echo through the house. Then the barking started. She had to laugh. Yep, definitely smaller dogs. And happy ones.

The door pulled open and Marg looked up into deep blue eyes, topped with a mop of light blond hair. He was tall. And young. And gorgeous. The tank top he wore hugged his chest and emphasized his muscular arms, as did his sweatpants for his legs. He flashed her a bright smile and she felt her stomach flutter.


She swallowed, willing her voice to work. "Hi. I’m from Neat Freak?" she said hesitantly, turning her statement into a question.

He chuckled. "The mop gave you away. Come on in." He opened the door wide for her, expertly sweeping the excited dogs aside with one big foot. He nodded to the main room down the hall, then closed the front door.

Nick turned back and watched her hips sway as she walked down to the living room. Usually he wasn’t at home when the cleaning people came over. And if he was, the person was an older woman who looked disapprovingly at his presence, eventually forcing him out to the pool in the back so that he wouldn’t be underfoot.

But not this time. She was young, pretty with long dark hair. Shorter than him, but not too short. Just the right height for bending over and kissing. She was dressed better than the other cleaning people too. A long sleeved t-shirt that hugged her body, and a pair of well-worn jeans. They weren’t tight, but it didn’t take a lot of imagination to note the sweet curve of her rear end. He groaned inwardly. It had been too long.

She had put her equipment down and was looking around the room appraisingly. She turned to him and noticed her eyes: a stormy grey/blue combination. "Beautiful," he murmured.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"Sorry. Just trying to get these mutts to calm down," he replied quickly.

She looked down and started to laugh. The pugs had, of course, followed them into the main room and were chewing on his shoelaces. One had started gnawing on his sweatpants; its tail wagging furiously as it growled and twisted at the dark green fabric. Nick swore as he felt his pants start to move down his hips, and pulled them back up quickly, then leaned over to capture the frisky dog.

"Sorry. These guys haven’t seen me in a while and they get a little silly sometimes," he explained.

"Not a problem. They are very cute." She looked back at him, adopting a professional demeanour. "So. What should I get started on?"

He gave her a quick tour of the house, and a run down on what he wanted. Helen’d been right. It really wouldn’t take that long. More of an airing out than a full cleaning. They started by doing just that: opening all the windows to get some breeze going. And he really was trying to be helpful. But it was difficult with both him and his doggie parade getting in the way.

After one of the pugs had pulled the vacuum cleaner cord out of the wall for the fourth time, he had gotten the message and scooped them up, leaving her to work while he took them outside. She could see him in the back yard. Chasing and being chased by them. Occasionally falling down and disappearing under an avalanche of wriggling bodies and wagging tails.

"Lucky dogs," Margarita thought, then shook herself. Back to work, my girl. Not good to fantasize about the client.

She cleaned the upper rooms and finally arrived at the master bedroom. It was huge, with a big window that looked out over the pool. The bed was king-sized, with a lush green coverlet. And covered with suitcases and piles of clothes. She wasn’t sure who had made the mess, the man or the dogs, but things were everywhere.

"Don’t worry about in here," a voice said behind her and she turned to see him leaning against the doorframe. "I’ll just put all this stuff in the laundry."

"Are you sure? I can…"

"No," then he sneezed softly. He looked at her and grinned. "Well, maybe you could dust in here once I get the clothes out of the way."

She smiled and nodded. Then headed to the room’s bathroom to clean in there. Nick watched her go, still mesmerized by the motion of her hips, and the way her hair flowed down her back. There was a smudge of dust on her rear end, and his hand itched to brush it off. Somehow he knew if he touched her once he wouldn’t want to stop. He turned himself back to the room, picking up this tossed clothes, determined not to think about what he really wanted to do to her.

He got his clothes organized into piles for the laundry, glanced into the bathroom and groaned. She was kneeling on the floor, leaned over the side of the tub, scrubbing efficiently. Her lower body was moving back and forth, back and forth, rhythmically. He felt his groin tighten. "Oh god, to be that tub," he thought. To feel her hips pressing up against his, her body moving in time to the primeval beat. He had better get out of there or he would…

She had turned around to look at him.

"Umm… I’m just going to take this down to the laundry," he muttered quickly, a load of dirty clothes held in front of him so that she couldn’t see reaction he had had, then hurried from the room.

Margarita sighed. Glad that he was gone. She had been aware of him the entire time he had been in the bedroom. Had been thinking of him while she scrubbed the bathtub clean. Imagined it was his body she was pressing again. His long, lean torso she was stroking. Her eyes had been half closed as she brushed the porcelain, her breath coming a little harsher. It was only some slight noise he had made that had reminded her he was there, and to shake off the feeling of need that was starting in her.

This was not good.

She clambered to her feet, rinsing out the tub, then quickly scouring the countertop. The sooner she got out of here the better. He was too much of a temptation.

She plugged in the vacuum and started to tidy the main room, nodding briskly to him when he came back into the room to get another pile of laundry. She looked after him as he left, noting his broad shoulders and slightly rounded butt. Stop it, Margarita! she thought.

He came back in as she was wrapping up the electrical cord. "I never asked you your name." He smiled. "I think I should know who has seen me in my messy state."

She smiled back at him. "Margarita."

"Hi, Margarita. I’m Nick," he said, holding out a large hand for her to shake. "Let me help you with that," he said, grabbing the vacuum and carrying it down the stairs for her. It wasn’t a heavy machine, but it did make the muscles in his back and arms stand out. Damn, he was beautiful.

He dropped the vacuum at the bottom of the stairs, then walked into the kitchen. And swore. Loudly. Margarita ran after him, turning around the corner to see a pile of vomit in the middle of the floor.

"Okay, which one of you worthless mutts did this?" he asked angrily.

Margarita laughed as all four dogs managed to look equally sheepish.

"Think its funny, do you?"

"Yes, actually," she grinned. "You seriously think one of them would come forward with a paw raised and say ‘oops, my bad’?" She had used a silly voice to perform the dog.

He laughed. "True." He sighed and ushered the dogs out of the room, then grabbed a few paper towels from the counter.

"I can do that," Margarita said.

"No way. This is not one of the things you need to do. The mess wasn’t here a few minutes ago. I’ll do it," he scooped up the mess with the towels, throw it in the garbage.

"At least let me…" she went over to the sink and dampened a rag. She turned back around, and some of the water spilt out of the cloth, pouring on Nick’s head.


"I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean…"

He laughed and took the rag from her hand, wiping the floor clean. Then stood and rinsed the rag out.

"I’ll just…" Margarita went to leave the room before she caused any more accidents, then stiffened as she felt a splash of water on her back. "What?"

She turned to see Nick holding the sprayer from the sink. "Two can play at that game," he grinned.

She narrowed her eyes, then noticed the dogs’ water bowl on the floor. His eyes followed hers, but she got there first, and had chucked the water at him just as he squeezed down on the nozzle again. Now they were both dripping. And grinning at each other like idiots.

"You do realize that I control the sink," he said.

She batted her eyelashes at him. "You wouldn’t do that to a poor defenseless woman, would you?"

"You could never be defenseless," he said seriously, then sighed. "But it wouldn’t be fair." He released the sprayer and held his hand out for the water bowl. She took a step forward, had just relinquished the bowl into his hand, when she felt her foot slip out from underneath her. She fell with a plop into one of the puddles they had made.

"Are you okay?" Nick asked worriedly as he moved towards her. Then he slipped too, falling on top of her.

"I was better when I wasn’t being crushed," she said wryly, looking up into his surprised face. He twisted around, sitting up, then looked down at her. Her t-shirt was soaked, and whether it was because of the water or not, her nipples were fully erect. He reached out slowly, passing his palm over the top of them slowly. Margarita breath caught and he looked at her flushed face. Her eyes sparkled and her lips seemed fuller than they had before. Nick groaned, then lowered his mouth to hers.

Her lips were so incredibly soft. She moaned gently, opening her mouth, allowing him to explore hers as she was exploring his. Her hands went up, running through his straight blond hair. His left hand cupped her face, pulling her closer, while his right stroked down her shoulder, returning to her taut nipple.

They were both breathless when they broke apart. His blue eyes lost in her grey-blue ones, and vice versa.

"I…" she started, but he shushed her. Then got up, pulling her with him and backed her up against the kitchen counter. His lips descended again, this time with his body pressed firmly against hers. She could feel the bulge in his pants, and her answering moistness. His lips moved down her neck and she bit back a whimper as he found the sensitive hollow of her neck. Her tongue flicked out, running along his ear and it was his turn to groan. He moved lower, his breath hot through the fabric of her shirt. She could feel his mouth over her breast, teasing her even more, and wished it was his mouth on her flesh. He must have picked up on her thought because he moved his mouth lower, down to her waist, then tugged the shirt up, his mouth following the same trail up her body that he had forged on his downward journey.

Her head went back and she left out moan as his mouth descended on her breast, licking and sucking. Wherever his mouth wasn’t his hands were, and she was soon twisting, trying hard to press more of herself into his grasp.

"This has to go," he murmured as he pulled her shirt over her head. "So does this," she responded huskily, pulling his shirt off. She looked down his long, firm chest and sighed as she lowered her head to his broad shoulders, then down to his nipples. His hands wound themselves through her long hair as he lost himself in the feel of her lips. It was so erotic.

He felt a small tug at his waist, and glanced down just in time to see her reveal his erect penis, then lower her mouth over its head. "Oh god," he moaned loudly as he felt her soft lips moving up and down his huge member. Slowly, deliberately she worked her way down, taking all of him into her hot, moist mouth. His eyes closed as he reveled in the feel of her lips.

"Oh baby," he gasped as her hands stroked his pubic hair, then he shook quickly as one of her fingers ran across his balls. "Do you have any idea what you are doing to me?"

Margarita knew, but couldn’t answer. He tasted so good. And the smell of him… all male. Her hands ran up his powerful thighs, then back into the curly hair in front of her. She could feel him starting to expand in her mouth and she moaned as he started to move deeper in her mouth. God, this felt so good. She knew that, just as he was nearing his release, she was now sopping wet. Her swollen clit was rubbing against the fabric of her jeans. When he came, she was going to too.

His breath was coming in sharp pants now, his hips rocking forward and back, and he was muttering her name feverishly. "Margarita, oh baby. Oh baby, I’m going to cum," then with a shout he did, shooting a stream of salty-sweet fluid into her mouth. She squeezed her hips at the same time, bringing on her orgasm, and swallowed convulsively as her body shuddered in time with his.

He pulled her up his body, crushing her lips against his. He could taste himself there, but more than anything he could taste her. And wanted to taste more. God, he had just had an incredible orgasm, and the thought of savoring her was all ready making him start to get hard again.

"That was wonderful," he said into her mouth. "But there was one problem with it."

"Problem?" she murmured back.

"It was too one-sided."

"I came too," she admitted, and he groaned deeply, remembering how her body had shaken.

"Damn woman, I wanted to do that to you." Then he reached down and picked her up in his arms, carrying her into the living room, laying her back on the couch. "And now I am going to," he said as he undid her jeans and pulled them down over her hips. He threw them behind him, then stroked her panties. "You are so wet," he mumbled as he divested her of those too. He lowered his mouth, tasting the remnants of her first orgasm. "So sweet," he said as he licked her clean, then moved in lower. She gasped as his tongue entered her, followed by one finger, then another.

"Nick," she moaned as he plunged his long tongue deeper into her core. A finger brushed again her clit, then into her, then back again. She raised her hips, spreading her legs a little wider, letting him press his face closer. Her fingers curved through his flaxen hair. "Oh god," she shuddered as he slipped one hand under hips. "Nick, I’m so close." Her body started to tremble as her release neared.

"Brace yourself, then," he grinned as he inserted a third finger into her, then stroked her sensitive nubbin with his rough tongue. She gave a sharp shriek then he felt, and tasted, a rush of fluid. He lapped it quickly, trying to keep going as her hips bucked wildly.

As she finally started to still, he raised his head, looking into her passion-fevered eyes. "That’s better. Now we are even."

She started to chuckle and he grinned. She held out a hand, pulling him towards her.

"God, you are so beautiful," he sighed as he lay beside her, looking down at her naked body, one hand running over her breasts,

"And you’re not?" she said as she rolled over to look at him, her hand stroking his chest, then moving down to caress his once-again erect penis.

He groaned. "God, Margarita. I want you," he said as he rolled over onto her. Using hands and mouths they teased each other into a frenzy. Both were breathing heavily. His hand roamed over her pubic hair, feeling how wet she was again, then poised himself at her opening. He looked at her, asking her for permission, but instead she thrust her hips up, taking him into her.

"Oh baby," he groaned as he sank into her, inch by inch. Finally he surged forward with a quick shove. He felt huge within her, and Margarita moaned as he plunged himself deeper and deeper into her.

She screamed in pleasure and raked her nails across his back. "Nick!" she cried.

"Yes, sweet baby? You wanted something," he replied huskily as he slammed into her.

"You, dammit. I want you," she cried in pleasure. "Oh god, I want you." She flipped him over on his back and rode him hard, squeezing him with her internal muscles. In this position, she controlled things and soon she could feel her climax building. She moaned, an almost animal cry, as her pleasure broke over her, her body shaking violently. Her reaction pushed Nick over the edge and he came, as roughly as she had. The two collapsed in a sweaty heap.

They were still tangled together when they heard a short bark from behind them. Nick whipped his head around to see the four pugs sitting there watching them. The sound of their panting was oddly reminiscent of his and Margarita’s just a few short minutes ago.

She giggled. "This is so embarrassing."

"Too right. I don’t want an audience," he growled then stood up. He pulled her into his arms, then lifted her, lowering her onto his erect cock. She moaned as he slid into her, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He clasped his powerful arms under her, holding her close to him as he walked across the room and up the stairs. They had to stop every few steps so that he could lean her against the wall, as the friction of his stride, and the whimpering noises coming from the back of her throat, made it hard for him to hold off his release. Each time they stopped their mouths came together in a frenzy, licking, nipping and sucking on each other frantically.

Entering his bedroom, and kicking the door shut so as to keep the micro-intruders out, almost drove him insane. Finally he could concentrate only on the woman in his arms. His hands roamed her back, and she bit back a scream. "Oh, God," she moaned, as he lay her back on the bed, her long hair fanning out behind her. He thrust deeply into her, glad to be able to do that instead of the subtle abrasion of the walk to the room. That had turned him on in ways he’d never felt before, but this… This was what he wanted. To feel her writhing, purring body under his.

Nick tried to hold off, but the way she moved…and the way it felt to be so deep in … He pounded his hard cock into her over and over, shouting her name. The feel of him, growing longer, thicker inside her, the sensation of his seed emptying itself into her, triggered Margarita’s own release, and her hands clutched at his back, nails scratching, as her inner muscles convulsed around him.

It took him a few minutes to get his breath back. Then he looked into her eyes, those beautiful grey eyes. "Can you stay? I don’t want to let you go."

She nodded, then giggled.


"Its funny. I was annoyed with Helen. She told me that it would be a quick cleaning job. Just a few hours. But when I saw your house, I thought I’d be here all night."

He chuckled. "You will be, Margarita. All night and all day tomorrow if I have anything to say about it."

The searing kiss he gave her was enough to convince her.

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