Crazy About the Baumgartners Read online




  Table of Contents

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  CRAZY ABOUT THE BAUMGARTNERS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

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  ABOUT SELENA KITT

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  MOXIE

  By Selena Kitt

  High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it. But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an x-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Doc and Mrs. B have hired a new au pair and she’s crazy about the Baumgartners.

  Poor rejected Gretchen, fired from her previous job and still licking her wounds from a recent breakup, is desperately seeking the kind of attention and affection only the Baumgartners can offer. So why do they seem to thwart her advances at every turn? It isn’t as if the polyamorous couple has been secretive about their fondness for threesomes.

  Naughty Gretchen makes up her mind, on their annual trip to the steamy sun and fun of Key West, to show the Baumgartners just how crazy she is about the both of them.

  CRAZY ABOUT THE BAUMGARTNERS

  By Selena Kitt

  Chapter One

  I didn’t become a nanny because I loved kids. I wasn’t one of those girls who started babysitting when I was ten and fell in love with children and decided to spend the rest of my life playing Mary Poppins. I became a nanny because I hated school, anything involving retail, and working in fast food. Being a nanny required that I know how to cook and how to do CPR. Basically, I needed to know how to keep kids alive.

  Sometimes I thought a monkey could do my job.

  Not that I advertised that fact during interviews.

  I’d been a nanny for five years and had gone through three families, when I finally found the perfect job. Thank God I found the Baumgartners. Or they found me. I was crazy about the Baumgartners. They were my favorite people in the world. And their kids were great, which is something I couldn’t say about the three families I’d played nanny to before them.

  Although they had their moments.

  “Henry did it!” Janie, who was eleven, blond and blue-eyed like her mother, stomped into the kitchen where I was making their after school snack—“ants on a log.” They were just celery sticks spread with peanut butter, raisins dotted on top, and looked more like turds on sticks to me, but whatever.

  “Henry did what?” I licked peanut butter off the knife and slid it into the sink. Henry, almost ten, was always doing something to annoy his older sister.

  “Look!” Janie held her ponytail up to me, showing me a wad of gum so big I couldn’t imagine how anyone even got it in their mouth in the first place.

  “Great.” I sighed, putting the ants and logs on a plate in the middle of the kitchen table. There was no point yelling for Henry. He was likely out back, hiding in the tree house his father had built, which is always where he “hid” whenever he’d done something he knew he might get in trouble for.

  So I was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a sobbing Janie, Googling “how to get gum out of hair” on my iPhone, when the house phone rang. Of course, the cordless wasn’t on its base where it should have been. I ran through the house, stopping every few moments when it rang again, trying to pinpoint the sound. I finally found it buried between the couch cushions, where I also found a wad of yellow Silly Putty with a penny stuck into it.

  “Hello?” I asked, out of breath, trying to get Silly Putty off my fingers in long strings.

  “Gretchen, can you stay late tonight?” Mrs. B. sounded just as out of breath as I was. “I have another couple showings and Doc’s at that conference in New York.”

  “Sure.” I was always amenable to more time—and of course, more money. Besides, Mrs. B wasn’t as picky as a lot of families I’d worked for. She didn’t mind if I made a frozen pizza for dinner or let the kids watch TV. As long as homework was done and no one was on fire, life was good.

  “Is Janie okay?”

  I’m sure she heard her howling in the background.

  “She got gum in her hair.”

  “Ugh. Ice,” Mrs. B said. “Put ice on it. It will get cold and you can chip most of it out.”

  “Thanks.” I headed for the freezer, grabbing a glass and dispensing ice into it.

  “And you can order a pizza if you want. There’s twenty bucks in the tin. You’ve got to be sick of cooking frozen ones.”

  “Okay.” It cracked me up how Mrs. B vacillated between wanting to feed them healthy things like celery and peanut butter and then gave up and ordered pizza.

  “I should be back by nine or ten,” she said. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure.” I sat a tearful Janie down at the kitchen table, pressing the ice against the glob of gum. She frowned at me, but at least she’d stopped howling. “We’ll see you then.”

  “All right, thanks, Gretchen. You’re a life saver.” She hung up.

  “Your mom says ice works.” I held my other hand under the ice to catch the drips. “But… if it doesn’t work… are you okay with me cutting it out?”

  “What?” Janie’s eyes went wide. “Cut my hair?”

  “I think you’d be cute with short hair.” I was trying to set it up, ease her into the idea, because I had a feeling this much gum plus that much hair was going to spell a trip to the hair salon tomorrow with her mother. I was just the nanny, not the Miracle Worker.

  “You think?” Janie sniffed, fingering the end of her ponytail, now wet from the melting ice.

  “Janie, where’s my goddamned iPod?” Henry stormed into the house, slamming the French patio doors behind him. “What did you do with it?”

  “Bite me!” Janie snapped. “Look what you did to my hair!”

  “Both of you, watch your mouths.” I sighed, pulling the ice away to find the gum was, indeed, hardening. “Janie, did you take his iPod?”

  “Maybe.” She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “But he took my eyeliner and won’t give it back!”

  It was strange to me how, one minute, they could be playing and the best of friends, and the next minute, they were at each other’s throats.

  “Well, if the iPod doesn’t appear in the next five minutes, I’m going to let you figure out your gum problem.” I carried the ice over to the sink, tossing it in. “And if Janie’s eyeliner doesn’t appear in the next five minutes, Henry, there won’t be any pizza for dinner or watching a movie afterwar
d. You can do your homework, eat peanut butter and jelly for dinner and go to bed by eight.”

  I turned around and leaned against the sink, arms crossed over my chest, and looked between the two of them. I wasn’t above bribery, it was true. It probably wasn’t the best parenting technique in the world, but I wasn’t their parent. I was the nanny.

  “Your iPod is under the treehouse,” Janie grumbled. “I buried it at the base of the tree.”

  “Here.” Henry reached into his pocket, handing over the eyeliner. I didn’t even ask why he took it. Janie wasn’t even supposed to have it, but I didn’t mention that either. Then he was out the door to find his iPod.

  “Okay,” I said to Janie. “Let’s see what we can do with your hair.”

  It took me almost an hour to get all of it out, and it was still sticky to the touch, even after we’d washed and conditioned it six times. Janie thanked me and went to her room to try to brush out the stickiness while I sat at the kitchen table, eating the untouched ants on a log while I ordered a pizza.

  Then I called Ronnie to tell her I was going to be late.

  “Don’t watch Mad Men without me,” I warned, crunching celery.

  “I won’t,” she promised. “I don’t feel well anyway. I think I’ll just go to bed early.”

  I frowned. “You don’t sound sick.”

  “Stomach thing,” she said. “Maybe my period coming. I dunno.”

  “Awww. Fill a hot water bottle.” I licked peanut butter off my fingers. “I’ll come home and rub your belly. I’ll kiss it and make it all better, I promise.”

  “I gotta go,” Ronnie said. “My other line’s ringing.”

  I sighed. “See you tonight.”

  Mrs. B had been asking me to stay late a lot and while I liked the extra cash, I didn’t like spending so much time away from Ronnie. We were best friends and even better lovers. And that, well—it had just kind of happened. I’d been with girls before, but I wasn’t a lesbian. I liked men too much for that. The way Ronnie and I had come together was kind of just meant to be. At first, it was just incredible sex and a lot of fun. Now, it was easy, comfortable, and I loved her dearly.

  The pizza came and I paid for it, setting us up in the family room in front of the giant 80-inch screen TV with Surround Sound. Janie was freshly scrubbed in PJs when she came down the stairs. Henry, however, was dirtier than ever from playing out in the treehouse. I made him wash his hands before sitting down at the coffee table to eat. We didn’t even bother with plates. We just sat on the floor and ate out of the box.

  The kids were involved in the movie and after I ate a piece or two of pizza, I curled up on the couch. I couldn’t stop thinking about Ronnie. Poor thing. I decided to stop on my way home to pick up some Midol and chocolate. Her favorite, Toblerone. That would brighten her spirits. She’d sounded so distracted, like she didn’t even want to pick up the phone.

  “Can we watch another one?” Janie begged. “We did our homework and I’m already showered!”

  “As long as you promise to shower right after, Henry,” I warned, cleaning up the pizza boxes, stowing the leftovers in the fridge.

  “Scouts honor!” He gave me the Boy Scout salute and I laughed.

  I was tidying up the kitchen when Mrs. B came in. I glanced at the clock, surprised. It wasn’t even seven yet.

  “You’re early,” I remarked, hanging the dish cloth over the kitchen faucet.

  “The second couple cancelled.” Mrs. B tossed a briefcase on the table and sat down in one of the chairs, kicking off her heels. She put her feet up on the table, wiggling her painted red toes in her pantyhose. She had long, tanned legs. “Everything go okay?”

  “Got most of the gum out of Janie’s hair,” I reported. “Homework’s done, Janie’s showered. We ate pizza. The leftovers are in the fridge. They’re watching Once Upon a Time and Henry promised to shower when it’s over. “

  “Thanks for staying.” She unbuttoned her suit jacket and shrugged it off. Mrs. B wore gorgeous clothes. Sometimes I went through her closet and a couple times I’d tried on a few of her dresses. They were just a little big on me. We were about the same height, but Mrs. B had a more voluptuous figure.

  “Not a problem.” I opened the fridge, taking out two pieces of pizza I’d put in a separate Ziploc bag. “Do you mind if I take some pizza home to Ronnie?

  “Not at all.” Mrs. B swung her feet off the table to the floor. “How is she?”

  “Good.” I nodded, putting the pizza with my purse on the table. “We’re good.”

  “I’m glad.” She gave me a tired smile, flipping through the mail on the table, separating out the junk. “Oh, I wanted to ask you. We have friends coming in early August. They’re flying in from Venice. Do you think you could sleep over, camp out with the kids?”

  “Sure,” I agreed, watching her open one of the envelopes.

  “Oh my God.” She pressed her fingers to her lips, eyes scanning the page.

  “What, is something wrong?”

  “No… something good!” She brightened, the letter shaking in her hands. “Something very, very good.”

  “What is it?” I sat down at the table across from her.

  “We’ve been approved as a foster family!” She whispered this, glancing toward the family room where the kids were still so involved with the show they had no idea their mother was even home yet.

  “That’s… wow.” I sat back, shocked. Henry and Janie were hitting those tween years and I’d heard the Baumgartners talking about what they were going to do when the kids went off the college, so the idea of them taking in foster kids surprised me. “Amazing. I didn’t even know you applied!”

  “I didn’t want to say much, get anyone’s hope’s up.” She nodded toward the family room, her eyes bright. “They’re desperate for a little brother or sister.”

  “So you’re going to adopt?” I asked, even more shocked now. Taking in foster kids was one thing—the Baumgartners were very generous and it made sense they would want to give back in some way. But adopting another child? That was a huge commitment. And not even just for them, but for me too.

  Mrs. B. nodded enthusiastically. “I hope so.”

  “A baby?” Of course, I knew what she was going to say.

  “Well who doesn’t love babies?” She smiled, folding up the letter and sliding it back into the envelope.

  “Well, congratulations,” I said, pasting on a smile. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Thanks.”

  I got up to write my hours on a sheet of paper Mrs. B kept on the fridge and there must have been a break between episodes because the kids came bounding into the kitchen.

  “Mom!” Janie and Henry rushed in to hug her as I put on my Keds and grabbed the pizza and my purse off the table.

  “I’ll see you guys tomorrow after school,” I called, heading out the door.

  I stopped at Walgreens on the way home to pick up Midol—I knew we were out, I’d taken the last of it—a Toblerone for Ronnie and a Reese’s for me. I didn’t like missing out on the money, but I was glad to be going home early today. I’d get home in plenty of time for Mad Men. We’d even have time to soak in the tub together. Then I could spend an hour licking Ronnie’s sweet little pussy and see how many orgasms I could give her before our show started.

  Just thinking about it made my mouth water and my own pussy clench with need.

  I pulled my Saturn up to our apartment complex, cutting the engine and glancing up at our apartment. The living room was dark, but the light was on in our room. Ronnie was probably napping. I’d wake her up like Sleeping Beauty, with a hot, sloppy wet kiss under the covers. I smiled, grabbing my Walgreens bag and my purse. I checked the mail—the box was empty, so Ronnie must have gotten it already—and climbed the stairs to our apartment.

  The door was locked—I got on Ronnie constantly about keeping it locked, even when we were home. We lived in a nice complex, but there had been a break-in at the storage center, so you never knew
who might decide to try doors and commit a crime of opportunity. I unlocked it, going into the darkened living room, shutting the door quietly behind me. I didn’t want to wake her before I got the chance to really wake her.

  I left the Walgreens bag on the kitchen table. There was a night light in the hallway and I followed its warmth toward our room. Our door was closed almost all the way, but there was a thin crack of light showing. I smiled, slipping up to the gap, peeking through in hopes of finding my sleeping beauty.

  “Ohhh my fucking God, Vince, your cock is so good!”

  I stopped, too stunned to move, hearing Ronnie’s voice, knowing that deep, guttural moan all too well. I could only see the edge of the bed, but I could hear it now, the low creak of bedsprings.

  “That’s it, baby, take my cock. Oh fuck! Yeah! Squeeze it like that!” A man’s voice, no doubt about it.

  “You like that?” Ronnie asked, teasing. “That tight… wet… hot… pussy… you like that wrapped around your big cock like that?”

  “Ahhh yeah,” he panted. “You’re so fucking tight. God.”

  I stood at the doorway, feeling a hot constriction in my chest. This couldn’t be happening. Ronnie was sleeping with a man—in our bed? I mean, we’d never really said we were going to be exclusive. We never talked about it. Things just sort of happened, and kept happening, until Ronnie and I got a one-bedroom apartment together and we agreed to split the rent.

  And I knew she liked guys. She knew I liked guys too. In fact, we talked about guys, we fantasized about them in bed, we’d even talking about bringing a guy into our bedroom, although we’d never actually done it. And God knows, we both like to play with phallic sex toys. We owned lots of dildos, even a few strap-ons. Ronnie loved to be fucked, especially from behind. Hell, I loved to be fucked too. It was no secret. It wasn’t like we were going to get gay married and live happily ever after or anything. I knew that.

  But she was fucking a man. In our bed. That just seemed like a terrible betrayal, even given the fluid nature of our relationship.

 

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