Daddy's Pretty Baby

by Cassandra Dee

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Holt

  The whole incident had been a shocking breach of professional behavior.

  “What the fuck?” I asked my men in Slovanian. “How could you let those girls see you?”

  Barbaro, squadron head, shook his head in apology.

  “Highness,” he replied. “If you’d seen those girls, you would have done the same thing. They were fighting like wildcats, we thought they were going kill each other with the biting and kicking.”

  “Plus, they were endangering our mission, making too much noise in our quadrant,” he added darkly.

  I sighed. As Prince of the Kingdom, I was titular head of the military and thus Barbaro’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss. That’s a lot of bosses and doesn’t accurately describe our relationship because we’re more like friends than employer / employee. Plus, Barbaro was central to our mission and had been acting for the cause.

  So I let it go for now.

  “Put the girls on Air Force One,” I said shortly. “We’ll meet you at the hangar.” And with that, our servant bowed and was gone.

  I turned to my brother.

  “What a shit show,” Hayden growled, and I nodded in agreement. Sure, we’d been attracted to the pretty college student, every guy at this campsite was, but we hadn’t acted on it. Well, not until recently, sampling the delicate flesh between her legs, tasting the sweet nectar there, and now we were sending her packing.

  But it was better if Summer didn’t know what this was about, it was better if she just remembered this as a semester away that had ended abruptly. And looking back with rose-tinted glasses, maybe one day she’d think on us fondly, as two men who’d touched her secret spaces, impaling her sweet cunny with our massive flesh … dream princes come true.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Summer

  I wasn’t assaulted, not really. I mean, it was scary and all, but I was wrapped up in clean sheets for crying out loud, with a pillowcase over my head. When I think of assaults, I think robberies, domestic abuse, that kind of thing, not the smell of fresh laundry.

  But evidently what had happened was enough to get us kicked off the team, and we were being shipped back to the U.S. pronto. I get it. Liability was too high and no one wanted to say that they didn’t do right by three young women who’d been trussed up on their watch.

  Looking around the airport hangar, I was pretty surprised. It was enormous with quite a few planes zooming in and out, weird for such a rural area. But who knows? The twins’ dad was a travel agent, he had a hook-up and was able to book a special ticket for us.

  “Wow, check it out,” I marveled as an odd-looking plane landed in the distance. The thing looked like an overturned bathtub, clunky and round, with rotors on three different parts of the body. It didn’t seem possible that it could fly, but modern technology is marvelous.

  But Veronica and Jenny didn’t even bother to look up. Unbelievably, despite everything that had happened they were at each other’s throats again.

  “Bitch,” hissed Veronica in Jenny’s direction.

  My friend completely ignored her, continuing to snack on sunflower seeds while looking off into the distance. But I could see why Veronica was pissed. Jenny was tapping her foot on the ground and the edge of her sneaker was slightly hitting Veronica’s LV monogram case. That’s right, our nemesis traveled in style. Instead of having an anonymous roller board, Veronica had a three-piece set of monogrammed luggage, giant pink Vs emblazoned on her stuff.

  Suddenly, an older man materialized dressed in a natty outfit, like a fancy bellhop complete with pillbox hat.

  “Ladies,” he said, bowing at the waist. “This way please.”

  With a gloved hand, he gestured to his left, and what do you know but there was a maroon walkway that I hadn’t noticed.

  “For us?” I asked, eyes wide in shock. Maybe things were different in small airports, boarding wasn’t just a voice on the intercom.

  “Of course he’s here for us,” snapped Veronica, jumping up. “Now help me get my stuff.”

  But before I could lend a hand, a porter showed up, also nattily attired.

  “Miss, may I?” he asked, already reaching for Veronica’s luggage.

  “Yes, you may,” she said with a queenly air. My, wasn’t our co-intern fancy? But I was still astonished by the special treatment.

  “Is this the way to customs?” I asked curiously. This was my first time owning a passport and I wanted to make sure to get an exit stamp upon leaving Slovania. My booklet was already out, flipped open to a blank page.

  And the man merely nodded his head, his face giving nothing away.

  “Customs will come to you, Ms. Miller,” he said smoothly.

  What? What did that mean? I shook my head, confused, but Jenny sailed past and called for me to follow.

  “Come on, Summer,” she said, “Hurry, let’s hustle. I call window!”

  And I just laughed. I was okay with aisle, window or center, being on a trans-Atlantic flight was a treat in and of itself.

  But the carpeted walkway led us to a small plane bearing a seal on the side. This couldn’t be it. What kind of commercial carrier had a seal that looked like a family crest, an ancient coat of arms with a heraldic lion in the center? This couldn’t possibly be our flight.

  But sure enough, a flight attendant appeared at the head of the stairs and greeted us by name.

  “Ms. Parker, Ms. Miller, welcome aboard,” she said, her tones dulcet, just like out of a commercial. “Can I help you with your baggage?”

  “Yes, before our other friend gets here,” said Jenny quickly, hustling up the stairs. “I need window, you’re going to have to sit between us Summer, I can’t sit next to that bitch.”

  But when we got onto the plane, my breath caught in shock. Because this was a private charter with just a few seats in white leather, each seat as big as a recliner. And we weren’t going to have to fight over window seats because all of them were windows. There were only four chairs in all, complete with ottomans and throw pillows.

  “What?” I gasped, my eyes wide. “Um ... wow?”

  The stewardess looked at me oddly before checking the passenger manifest again.

  “You are Summer Miller and your friend is Jenny Parker, right?” she inquired.

  “Yes,” I said, with a stumped expression on my face. “But we’re students, this flight can’t be for us.”

  A look of comprehension came across the stewardess’s face.

  “Oh, the Doctors Halborg always travel in style,” she said obliquely. “Their dad makes sure of it,” she added, her expression giving nothing away.

  Jenny and I began strapping ourselves into the big chairs when suddenly another man appeared on board. He was buttoned-up in a stiff suit, looking down on us through rimless glasses perched on his pointy nose.

  “Ms. Miller, just a moment of your time,” he said politely.

  By now Veronica had made it on board and was ordering the bellhop around in a nasty voice, saying, “No, don’t put my luggage there, it’ll get scratched. I want it there,” she said imperiously.

  The bellhop didn’t look too pleased, but said nothing, stowing her luggage.

  “Ms. Miller, this way,” the first man turned to me again, gesturing to the door of the plane.

  Jenny and I looked at each other with confusion. We’d just gotten on so why did they want me to get off again? Maybe it was something about my passport. It was new, I’d just gotten it from the State Department, maybe it had to be checked one more time.

  Dubiously, I unstrapped myself and got up, turning to follow the butler.

  “Hurry up,” whined Veronica in back of me. “This is taking forever. I want to leave.”

  With a look of apology at the staff, I followed the uniformed man off the plane to a trailer parked in the hangar. Uh oh, this didn’t look good.

  With a bow, the man opened the door and directed me inside. The door clicked shut and I blinked for a moment, diso
riented, because instead of customs agents or passport officers, Hayden and Holt stood before me, their masculine forms tall, dominant, filled with unleashed power.

  “Hey Summer,” drawled Holt with a smooth smile. Hayden merely looked at me appraisingly, taking in my raggedy t-shirt, the jeans that were so old that they were almost white from being washed so many times. I flushed. We hadn’t had time to pack, not really, and I’d thrown on whatever was close at hand. Damnit why hadn’t I worn my contacts at least? My clunky glasses were at least four years old, my hair knotted in a messy bun.

  But I tried to make the best of it.

  “Oh hi,” I said, smiling warmly. “Thank you so much for arranging the ride. I know your dad’s a travel agent, but the plane is amazing. There’s a butler, a porter, and a stewardess, plus the seats are huge,” I said with an easy smile.

  The twins exchanged knowing looks.

  “Yeah, our dad is a travel agent of sorts,” said Hayden smoothly. “He has hook-ups to all sorts of things.”

  “But this is beyond incredible,” I complimented. “You have to see it to believe it. The chairs are white leather and I bet if you made them flat, they’d be bigger than my twin bed at school.”

  The twins looked at each other again, amused.

  “Well girlie, it’s good to hear that you have a one-person bed,” mused Holt. “No sleeping with guys for you? I thought college girls were wild these days, baring their boobies during spring break, lifting up their shirts for the camera.”

  He was referring to Girls Gone Wild, a DVD series that showed college girls partying hard on vacation, losing their inhibitions and probably a lot more on camera.

  “Oh no,” I said shyly. “That’s not me at all. I mean, I don’t have the figure for it of course,” I added hastily, “but that stuff is totally not me. I’m, um, a little more conservative.”

  I almost cringed listening to myself. That had come out wrong, and I felt hopelessly boring and straight-laced, labeling myself as “conservative.” Why hadn’t I chosen another word? Oh god, oh god.

  But the men merely smiled at me.

  “That’s good,” ground out Holt. “We could use a little conservatism these days, nothing wrong at that.”

  Hayden nodded his agreement.

  “We see, ah, a little too much of women these days,” he said, “yeah, a little too much.”

  I flushed again. If he meant that they got a lot of action in bed, I could believe it. Who wouldn’t go ga-ga over two gorgeous twins with chiseled features and night-black hair? I was already careening inside, my heart beating quickly, barely able to think straight.

  Calm down, I commanded myself. Don’t act like an excited puppy, girls are like this around them all the time.

  So I took a deep breath and began again with a bright smile.

  “Hayden, Holt, what are you guys doing here?” I asked, changing the subject. “Jenny, Veronica and I were just about to take off, we’re the only passengers on the plane,” I asked again, steadying my nerves.

  “Good question,” ground out Holt. “What are we doing here exactly, Hay?” he asked his brother, eyebrows raised.

  And for the first time, I saw one of the brothers uncomfortable. It was the cutest thing. A giant of a man, Adonis-like in his perfection, Hayden was getting a little red in the face, squirming under the collar a bit.

  “Well, Holt,” he grunted in return. “I think we wanted to say good-bye to Summer.”

  Good-bye to me? I guess it made sense. We hadn’t had time to say good-bye back at the campground, whisked out of there with hardly any time to even pack.

  So I smiled while stuffing my hands into my jean pockets.

  “Good-bye Holt, good-bye Hayden,” I said sweetly. “Maybe we could exchange emails? I know you’re busy with your medical practices and all, but we could keep in touch once you guys are back in the States. Mine is Summer Miller Three at gmail dot com. It’s easy to remember.”

  The twins exchanged another glance before Hayden spoke up.

  “I think we can do more than exchange emails,” he said smoothly. “Email is so impersonal, you know?”

  My breath caught. Were they remembering our escapade right now? The DP that still had my body sore, the aches in my ass and cunny deep and unrelenting, tingling even now. After all, no one had expected us to leave so quickly, maybe the twins were here for more. But I didn’t want to presume.

  “Oh sure, I can give you my cell too,” I murmured. “It’s a New York number, do you have a pen? Or maybe my cell works in this hangar, I didn’t think I had service overseas, but let me check.”

  And I began scrabbling in my bag, looking for my phone. Damnit, I had so much stuff in here that I was literally digging through mountains of junk, upending everything in my haste to find my phone. Suddenly, with a ripping sound, the cheap cloth tore and my things scattered all over the ground.

  “Oh shit,” I gasped before dropping to my knees. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, oh shit,” I said, trying to grab everything before it rolled away. This was so humiliating, I could see my life spread out on the floor in front of us, my wallet, that stupid phone, my Hello Kitty keychain, a half-empty bottle of water, god this was embarrassing. I scrabbled with desperate hands, trying to grab stuff as quickly as possible, but there was just too much.

  But a deep chuckle interrupted me.

  “Looking for this?” asked Holt smoothly, holding up a pink object.

  And my soul curdled, my face growing hot. I’d known it was in this bag, and was praying that it hadn’t fallen out, or that I’d be able to scoop it up before anyone saw. But no such luck.

  Because the man was holding up a nine-inch dildo, a pink rubber one that I bring with me when I travel. I usually pack it in my check-on luggage but we’d left in such a hurry that I’d thrown it in my carry-on in my haste. Oh god, this was so embarrassing, the rubber shaft obscenely large, massive with a bulbous head, just like a real man’s penis.

  So my face flamed, my entire body going hot. I was red up to my hairline, I could feel it, my cheeks on fire, a warm flush on my neck.

  “Um yeah,” I stammered. “What was that doing in there? Oh my god, I totally forgot,” I said lamely. “How weird.”

  “How weird indeed,” said Holt smoothly. “And do you use it often?” he said, the toy looking oddly small in his large hand. I wished he would put it down, give it back to me, but the big man seemed amused, his eyes gleaming.

  “Um yes, I mean no,” I stuttered. “I mean, sometimes, when I feel the need, you know?”

  “No, we don’t know,” interjected Hayden. “Tell us about it,” he invited.

  I looked at him speechless. Tell them about using my dildo? How I liked to manually stimulate myself and then slip it in for an amazing ride, letting it penetrate my depths, fucking it with squelching sounds deep into the night? How the last two weeks I’d been thinking about them while I did the dirty, pretending I was being taken by two hot, dominant twins, their mouths all over me, their bodies commanding?

  “Um well, you know a girl has needs,” I stumbled, the words coming out all garbled. “And in the woods, in the Kolstya Mountains, it just seemed so romantic, so nice, I thought it would be a great addition,” I said helplessly. God, this was so awkward and I made no sense at all.

  “The Kolstya Mountains did it for you, hmmm?” ground out Holt. “That’s good to hear. The mountains are special to us too,” he added.

  I had no reply. I’d merely been babbling, I hadn’t really meant anything I said.

  “Especially these mountains,” added Hayden, his hand running up my side before cupping my breast, weighing the mound in his big palm. “These mountains are triple-A rated.”

  And now my heart was positively pounding, I was sure he could feel it through my thin t-shirt. My nips hardened immediately and my face flamed even more if that was possible, the hard peaks sticking out against the thin fabric.

  With a devilish smile, Holt reached a big finger up and traced on
e pointy peak, circling it before tweaking hard, as I let out a gasp of shocked pleasure.

  “Feels good, hmm baby?” he growled.

  And before I could reply, the men were on me. My t-shirt was pulled over my head, leaving me in nothing but the barest of demi-bras, my girls practically spilling out. My jeans were eased off over my hips and suddenly I stood before the twins again in nothing but lingerie, a G-string and bra of the sheerest pink lace.

  “Gorgeous,” breathed Holt, his eyes hungry, his body hard with barely-leashed power.

  “Absolutely,” ground out Hayden, dark streaks staining his cheekbones. “Now dance,” he commanded.

  I stood stock still in the small trailer. Dance? What did that mean? But I knew my stuff so I gave a little shake of my hips and the men grunted approvingly, their eyes glued to my body.

  With a little wiggle, I shook my ass again, this time pretending that I was on stage somewhere, my audience these two gorgeous alpha males. And I knew from the hungry looks on their faces that I was on the right track, their eyes taking in every curve, every shimmy, eating me up.

  With that, I threw myself into it full-force. Closing my eyes, I began unwinding, sinuously twisting my body to an internal beat, my hips undulating as my butt jiggled and jolted. I loosened my hair and sensuously ran my hands through the brown curls, tipping my head back and smiling at the twins through half-lidded eyes, purring all the while.

  “That’s it,” ground out Holt, his body tense as he devoured me.

  “Keep going,” added Hayden, his hand slipping lower, lower to his zip.

  And with a pop, I saw it again. Or rather I saw them again. Massive donkey dongs sprung out, fifteen inches each, hard and on display. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I fell to my knees before them, taking one in each hand, stroking up and down those massive shafts.

  “Mmm,” I murmured. “I missed these,” I pouted, looking up at the men through lowered lashes.

  And they merely laughed, running their hands through my curls, stroking my shoulders, reaching down to jiggle my breasts, tweak my nipples a bit.