by Rebel Wild
Her green eyes locked with mine for just a moment before they drifted down my body to check me out. My choice in suits had always been hit or miss with her. She found the blue ones ugly, so I’d weeded them out of my wardrobe. Instinctively, my muscles tensed as I imagined more than just her eyes on me. She didn’t look at me like the kid she was and fuck me, I liked it. A smirk played on my lips, letting her know just how much. The things I wanted to do to her.
Her eyes changed from me to her father and so did the look on her face.
“Hi, Daddy,” she squealed. I was annoyed at how spoiled she sounded. “It’s lunchtime. I have a whole hour and you promised me a veggie burger.”
“Say hello to Mr. Garrett.”
“Hi,” she said as she took another sip of her coffee.
I didn’t know how she could stand it. I wondered what else she could stand to swallow.
“Sydney,” I said.
“Can he take me to lunch?” she asked me, tilting her head in her dad’s direction.
“I don’t see why not.”
“Let me get my keys,” Roger said to her. “Behave yourself in front of Mr. Garrett.”
Well, that was the last thing I wanted her to do.
I waited for him to disappear before I spoke again. Clearly, the poor bastard hadn’t figured out that I was lusting after his little girl the way he kept leaving me alone with her.
“I hear you’re a year closer to being legal.” I meant to say an adult, but the head I was thinking with didn’t have a filter.
“Barely,” she said it with such ease that I’m sure she didn’t mean it the way it sounded. “It’s taking too long.” I thought she would have stomped her foot if she didn’t have coffee in her hand.
“It can’t be that bad.”
“It’s terrible. I’m sick of feeling like a noob.”
“A noob.” I chuckled, not having a clue what that meant.
“At least Daddy let me get my driver’s license. I still haven’t convinced him to buy me a car yet, but I’ve been test-driving like crazy.”
“Anything in particular?”
“I want a white, two-door, convertible Benz with black interior.”
“Sounds like something you’d drive. Just make sure you tell me when you get it so I can stay off the road.”
“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “I totally aced my driver’s test.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Did Daddy tell you he’s throwing me a sweet sixteen at the Beverly Hills Hotel?”
“He did. And you want him to attend, I hear?”
“It’s the only way they’ll serve the champagne.” She shrugged. “It’s not even real alcohol, but whatever. And he’s cool.”
“Sounds like a good time.”
“I would invite you, but you don’t strike me as the partying type.” She studied me with her cup pressed to her lips.
“And what type do I strike you as?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, sipping her coffee. “Uptight, I guess. I’ve been coming here to hang out forever, and I’ve never seen you do more than fake a smile at everyone. It’s like you hate being here.”
“Aren’t I the one who lets you beat me at Xbox?”
“Yeah.” She giggled. “But you still look like it sucks to be here.”
“You’ll get why when you start working and having responsibilities.”
“You sound like my dad.”
“That old? Ouch.”
“Not like that.” She laughed. “You’re not old, but you’re serious. It’s like you need a really big de-stressor or something.”
“You have no idea.”
She lifted her coffee to her lips again, but I took the cup before she took her sip.
“Hey,” she said. “I was still drinking that.”
Upon hearing that, Mona looked up from her computer. She was ready to get me my own cup until I shook my head to refuse it.
“You’ll thank me later,” I told Sydney. I’d just saved her from spending the rest of her day in the bathroom. “Have fun with your daddy.”
“That sounded so wrong,” she said to my retreating back. “And you owe me a latte.”
“Foxy!” I heard Roger yell at her. “Show some respect, will you, please.”
I glanced behind me in time to see her face turn almost as red as her hair.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she said, but I heard the unmistakable hint of “fuck you” in her voice.
I shook my head at her, closing my office door behind me. That girl needed a good spanking. My cock twitched thinking about pulling her over my knee and spanking her ass with my bare hand.
I looked down at the light brown liquid in her cup. Latte? Is that what that shit was supposed to be. I took a chance on tasting it, placing my mouth on top of the pink lipstick stain she’d left. Shit! I spat it back in the cup before dumping it in my wastebasket.
Feeling like the complete pervert that I was, I retrieved my phone from my desk and texted Portia. I definitely needed to see her.
So, what the hell do I tell Joe right now? Can I tell him I’ve been secretly obsessing over Sydney since she was a kid? Can I tell him I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment and that the minute she turned eighteen, I did what I had to to have her? Can I tell him I wasn’t going to let anything stand in my way, not even her father? I don’t think so.
“Let me guess,” he says, snapping his fingers like he just figured me out. “You’re into the barely legal girls now, right?”
“Not in particular. Her being young is just a pleasant byproduct.”
“Byproduct?”
“It’s business. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Until you believe it. I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s sure as hell not very businesslike of you.”
“That’s only because I’ve known her for a while. Her father used to work for me.”
“Her dad’s a lawyer? Oh, man, he’s going to rip you a new ass.”
“He’s in jail.”
“Shit.”
“She has daddy issues.”
“And you’re eating it up,” he tells me.
“She asked me to help get him released.”
“So, what are you going to do, drop some charges, suppress some evidence in the midst of all the fucking?”
“It’s really up to her and how well she does her part.”
“Now I get it,” he says, snapping his fingers. “You’re scratching each other’s backs, or whatever it is you all are scratching locked up there in your sex room. A little quid pro quo, so to speak.”
“Exactly. If she does what I ask her to, her dad will be home free.”
“Isn’t that blackmail?”
“No. It’s just—”
“Business. Right. She sucks your dick and her dad gets the release. So, the guy’s whoring her out?”
“No, and watch your mouth. She’s not a whore.”
“Well, aren’t you protective.”
“I’m cautious and I’ve already told you too much. You need to keep your mouth shut about all of this.”
“Tell that to her. You’re going for District Judge in a few years. All she has to do is blow the whistle on your ass and you’re done, Triscuit. Dude, you’re toast,” he says, going so far as to choke himself. I just stare at him. I refuse to take his bait, especially when he’s calling me that fucking nickname.
“I have a package coming and I need you here to sign for it,” I tell him.
“What is it?”
“A leash and collar for Miss Warren, two of them.”
“Dude.”
“If you can’t handle the answers, stop fucking asking me questions.”
“What happened to that sex shrink you
were seeing?”
“I’m still seeing him, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt.”
“If you say so,” he says, getting up to leave. “Enjoy your new sex doll.”
And that’s exactly what she’s become, my sweet little virgin sex doll, fresh out of the box, brand new and untouched. I’m greedy for her, always have been.
From the first moment her father dangled her in front of me, parading her around the office and introducing her to everyone, I knew I would have her. I forced myself to wait it out. I didn’t get this far in life by being impatient, and I had all the patience in the world when it came to “Foxy.” Her father had no idea how hard that name made me every time he said it, and it was fitting. Even as a kid, she was foxy as hell.
She’d come to visit him and I’d lure her away, first with Xbox games and then later when she got older, letting her have her way around the office. Whatever Sydney wanted; Sydney got. She smelled of sour candy and flavored coffee. To this day, I can’t smell a Caramel Frappuccino without drooling in her honor.
Unfortunately, her father had done something my office couldn’t cover up and not only did I have to fire his ass, but I had to bring the Feds in to investigate. I couldn’t very well keep my little Foxy around after that, without exposing my perversion, so reluctantly I let her go, but not too far. LA is a big city, but it’s not that big. It wasn’t hard to keep tabs on her. When I found out she was working at that rundown restaurant I became a thorn in her sweet little ass. I knew they had to be hard up for money if Roger was allowing her to work there. He worshipped the ground his little princess walked on and barely made her lift a finger.
Once I had enough evidence, I charged his ass and threw him in jail. A week after he was arrested, Sydney came crying to me for help and I seized the opportunity. I didn’t mince words. I told her exactly what I wanted from her and what I was ready to do to get it. If she wanted my help, she was going to have to play my game, but I was more than willing to pay whatever price I had to for her.
Little Miss Foxy is priceless. I knew I would eventually get to sink my cock into her. Just the thought of having her untouched, tight as fuck pussy molded perfectly around my cock makes it unbearably hard.
“Foxy, Foxy, Foxy, you are going to be worth the wait.”
Chapter Eleven
My alarm goes off and I groan at the annoyingly rude sound. I set it for six a.m., but it feels like I just got into bed. I wish I could shut it off and go back to sleep, but I’d be risking the wrath of Mr. Garrett. I try to avoid that as much as possible. The sitting area in the corner of my room catches my eye. Clothes have already been laid out there for me, so I take a quick shower before I put them on. I give extra care to my behind. I must admit that cream really does do the trick once you get past the searing pain when it’s first applied.
I put on the navy-blue bikini and the matching romper that was picked out to go on top of it. I don’t know who picked this out, but it’s exactly something I would wear swimming. I’m starting to get a little excited. Obviously, we’re heading to someplace with water that I might be allowed to get in. I brush my hair out and hurry downstairs as not to be late. No point in pissing him off with my disrespect for time. I want to stay in Mr. Garrett’s reward lane as much as possible. I see Joe waiting in the great room.
“There she is,” he says to me.
“Morning.” I look around for Bree.
“She’s at her mom’s,” Joe tells me. “Come on, Tristan’s already waiting. You’ll have breakfast with him.”
“Great,” I say.
I look out the window like a tourist trying to find some clue to where we’re going since Joe won’t tell me anything. We arrive at LAX and Joe pulls up to a private tarmac. He grabs my two large carry-on bags and escorts me to an impressive jet that reads Prater Charters. My excitement escalates. Where in the world could we possibly be going in a private jet?
I enter the jet where Mr. Garrett’s already seated.
“Ah,” he says when he sees me. He puts down his coffee cup and stands to receive me from Joe. “Sydney, please join me for breakfast.”
I nearly fall over from shock. Where is the one-word demand? And what’s with this “Sydney” stuff? I look around the cabin and see the cause of his sudden show of manners. An attendant is waiting in the wings to serve us. Now, I have no clue how to act. Do I bow my head like I’m supposed to, or do I act like a girlfriend? Why didn’t he prepare me for this? Well, he’s standing up for me, so I pick gentleman friend.
“Yes, of course,” I tell him, meekly. Judging by his grin, I must have picked right.
“You crazy kids have fun,” Joe says before almost running away from us.
“Our flight’s delayed for an hour,” he tells me before ordering an array of breakfast items for us to indulge in.
The cabin is roomy, but even so, we’re close to one another. He keeps leaning into my space, but I don’t even try to scoot away. I’m too excited to even care. We separate for the brief moment it takes for the attendant to serve us our food.
Feeling satisfied with breakfast, I’m ready to get the show on the road. I really want to know what this reward is. It must be big if we’re flying to it.
“You’re doing very well,” he tells me, as I look out the window to see if whatever it is that has us delayed is clearing.
“Thank you, sir,” I say, turning to face him.
“Relax. You may speak a little freer when in public.”
“Okay,” I tell him, dramatically relaxing in my seat.
“But don’t forget your place.”
“No, sir,” I say, tensing again.
Finally, we’re in the air. I really want to know where we’re going. Mr. Garrett is busy on a business call so I can’t ask him. Not that I would anyway. The moment I think I can’t stand it another minute we land. Seconds later, I’m being ushered into a waiting SUV.
The darkened windows are up, but I can still see the beauty of our surroundings as he drives. He makes a sharp right turn and once we pass a security gate, the windows come down. Fresh, salty air blows across my face from the lush greenery of the small two-lane road we’re on. We come to a clearing and up ahead, a large two-story Hampton-style home sits right off the water.
“Wow.” I let the word slip.
This place makes the one in Beverly Hills look like a trailer.
He gives me a brief tour, then leaves me in my room to get settled. The few clothes that were packed for me look pitiful all alone in the massive closet.
“Wow,” I say again as I open my room’s patio door and see the view of the ocean. The breeze is cool with a sweet fragrance coming from the beautiful rose garden below.
“You’re pleased with your reward?” He asks, coming in to join me.
“Yes, sir,” I tell him. “But where are we?”
“Carmel-by-the-Sea. It’s always been a retreat for me, and I hope you’ll find it just as enjoyable.”
“I already do. Thank you for my reward, sir.”
He hands me the square black box that he’s holding. I look at him, and he nods his permission for me to open it. I’m grinning, wondering what it might be. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten an actual present and this one is wrapped so nicely—I can’t even imagine what it is. I lift the lid and pull back the delicate white paper to reveal a thin-strapped, leather black collar with a tiny silver bell in the center.
Shock and horror fight for time on my face. This looks like what you’d put on a cat so you can hear where it’s hiding. Right next to it is a diamond-studded leash. I hope he’s not planning on walking me. Images of me crawling around Beverly Hills for all the world to see spring into my head.
“This isn’t needed,” he tells me of the collar. “There’s no one here to steal you away, but it will still please me to see you wear it.” I can hear the pride in his vo
ice. He actually thinks he’s done something nice for me. I smile, hoping to hide that I want him to take this collar and shove it. He twirls his finger, telling me to turn around, and I obey. Taking the collar from the box, he places it at my neck. I move my hair up so he can fasten it. “You now have free rein of the house and the grounds, including the water for swimming. Don’t go beyond the perimeters.”
Why? Will this thing shock me?
I run my fingertips along my neck, testing it, but I have no clue what a shock collar is supposed to feel like.
“Yes, sir,” I say, half-convinced this thing will zap me if I wander too far. He lotions and sprays me down with all kinds of skin protectants before being satisfied enough to let me go, and I take off like a racehorse at the opening of the gates.
For hours, I walk all over this massive stretch of property. It has the most breathtakingly beautiful views of the water I’ve ever seen, and with all the butterflies, hummingbirds, and squirrels around, I feel like Snow White singing to all the cute little animals in the woods. I go in the rose garden that’s framed with huge decorative hedges and sit down on one of the benches. I lean my head back and close my eyes as the smell of the flowers surrounds me and the hot sun shines in my face. This is exactly what I needed. I so love my reward.
“You’re going to burn that beautiful skin of yours,” I hear Mr. Garrett’s voice say. I open my eyes, but the sun is making me squint. He moves in front of me to block it. His frame is outlined in the golden sunlight. He doesn’t have a shirt on, so I can see every well-defined muscle. I catch my breath before I lower my head, more to escape the image of him than submission. Looking at him standing there like that is doing things to me and I’m not sure if I like it. “I figured I’d find you here.”
“Yes, sir,” I say. I want to tell him how beautiful this place is, but I keep quiet like a good submissive.
“It’s hot. Join me for a swim before lunch.”
He holds out his hand, and I take it, getting up to walk with him. We take the path behind the house, down by the water. I take off my sandals and jumper while Mr. Garrett kicks off his flip-flops. We stand on the shore and I wiggle my toes as they sink into the hot sand.