Maddie Demeter changed for dinner.

Not because she had to — there was no dress code, no formal expectations — but because she wanted to. And because something inside her, that quiet little flame she knew so well, told her this wasn’t just dinner.

It was an audition.
A game.
A tease.

And she loved every second of it.

She slipped out of her travel clothes and into something a little more… suggestive. A black satin camisole with delicate lace trim that barely held her generous breasts in check, hugging her tight around the ribs, thin straps kissing her smooth shoulders. No bra. Just skin and silk and suggestion. On bottom: a short flowy skirt, dark emerald green, high-waisted and soft, with nothing underneath.

She didn’t need underwear tonight.
She wanted to feel everything.

She added a hint of shimmer to her collarbones, let her hair fall in soft waves over one shoulder, and touched her lips with gloss — just enough to catch the light when she smiled.

By the time she walked into the kitchen at 7:01 PM, she was the embodiment of calculated seduction.

And both Vanessa and Graham looked up.

The room was warm with the scent of garlic, butter, and herbs. A single bottle of white wine breathed on the counter, glasses already poured. Music hummed softly from the built-in speakers — something jazzy, old, expensive.

Vanessa stood at the stove, stirring something in a pan. She’d changed too — now in a deep burgundy wrap dress that clung to her like a second skin, one leg peeking out through a high slit. Her back was to the room, but she turned slowly as Maddie entered, her eyes sweeping over her in one long, slow stroke.

Graham sat at the kitchen island, sleeves rolled up, watching.

“Evening,” Maddie said lightly, sliding into the stool opposite him.

“Wow,” he said simply.

Vanessa didn’t speak. She just kept watching Maddie — eyes cool, lingering, like a tongue sliding down bare skin. Then she turned back to the stove.

“You’re overdressed for dinner,” Vanessa murmured, voice low but sharp.

Maddie smiled, unbothered. “I like to make an impression.”

Graham laughed softly. “You’ve done that, alright.”

Dinner was plated — roasted chicken over lemon herb risotto, grilled asparagus, crusty sourdough with whipped butter. Maddie moaned at the first bite — and she meant it. It was good.

“Oh my god,” she said, eyes fluttering shut. “This is incredible.”

“I cook when I’m stressed,” Vanessa said.

“Maybe you should stay stressed,” Maddie said with a little grin. “You’ve got magic hands.”

There was a loaded pause. Then Vanessa turned her gaze on Maddie, chin tilted slightly. “You think so?”

Maddie held the stare, unblinking. “I know so.”

Vanessa’s lips parted just slightly. Then she looked away, sipping her wine with a small, unreadable smile.

The tension between them was velvet-smooth — seductive, slow, building like a storm.

Graham watched it all with open interest.

“So, Maddie,” he said after a moment. “You have a boyfriend?”

Maddie shook her head. “Nope.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

Vanessa’s voice was quieter now. “You ever live with a couple before?”

“I’ve stayed with a couple before.”

“Intimately?” Graham asked.

Maddie’s smile grew wicked. “Are you asking if I’ve ever been the third?”

Graham raised an eyebrow.

Vanessa said nothing.

Maddie leaned forward, her cleavage spilling just a bit as her voice dropped to a velvet purr.

“Let’s just say… I know how to read a room.”

And the room right now?
It was throbbing with heat.

Dinner ended. Dishes were cleared. The sun had set, and the house glowed under soft recessed lighting and the flicker of candles in hurricane glass.

Chloe had already been put to bed by a different sitter that evening — a quiet teenager from next door — giving Maddie space to settle in before her official duties began.

She moved toward the sink, hands brushing the counter. “I can help with cleanup—”

“I’ve got it,” Vanessa said, brushing past her — and Maddie felt it. That fleeting contact. Skin to skin. The side of Vanessa’s chest brushing against Maddie’s arm.

It was intentional.

Graham leaned back against the island, wine glass in hand, his eyes flicking back and forth between them like he was watching live theater.

“You’re…refreshing, Maddie,” he said. “Not shy. That’s rare.”

Maddie turned, standing between them now — one hand resting on the cool marble. “I don’t see the point in playing dumb,” she said softly. “People always want to pretend they don’t feel what they’re feeling.”

Vanessa rinsed her hands under the faucet, the water hissing softly.

“And what do you feel right now?” she asked, her voice smooth, unreadable.

Maddie stepped closer. Her pulse fluttered, but she didn’t break eye contact. “Excited. Curious. Turned on.”

Vanessa’s breath caught — barely — and she turned off the water.

Then she reached for a towel. Dried her hands. Moved slowly, deliberately, until she was inches from Maddie.

“You think you’re in control,” Vanessa said.

Maddie smirked. “You think I’m not?”

The air between them was thick now, tingling, electric. Graham said nothing. Just watched. His hand moved slightly — subtle — to adjust himself.

Vanessa tilted her head, studying Maddie the way one might study a piece of art that was dangerously close to being too beautiful.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Maddie,” she said softly. “I see why my husband can’t stop staring.”

Graham chuckled darkly. “I wasn’t hiding it.”

“And you?” Maddie said, eyes never leaving Vanessa’s. “Can you stop staring?”

Vanessa didn’t answer.

She reached out instead — slowly — and ran her fingers along Maddie’s bare shoulder. The touch was light. Just the backs of her fingers, like testing the temperature of a flame.

“You’re trouble,” Vanessa whispered.

Maddie’s voice was breathless now, barely audible. “You want trouble.”

Then a quiet voice echoed from the hallway:

“Mommy?”

Everyone froze.

Chloe stood at the end of the hallway, rubbing one eye, holding a stuffed animal.

“I had a bad dream.”

The tension cracked like a whip. Vanessa straightened instantly, her cool mask snapping back into place.

“I’ll take her,” she said, already moving.

Maddie stepped back, heart pounding.

Graham finished the last of his wine and gave Maddie one long, slow look. His voice was low, thick with heat.

“Stay interesting, Maddie.”

Then he turned and followed his wife and daughter down the hallway, leaving Maddie alone in the kitchen — breathless, flushed, skin tingling.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid thud of her heartbeat.

This wasn’t a job.

This was a game.
And the rules?
They were just beginning to unravel.

Maddie’s Page