by S. R. Watson
“Oh, you don’t have to wait on me, Brennan. I’ll catch up with you after the meeting,” Tory says when she notices me still standing there.
A fake smile is plastered on her overly made-up face, but I’m not fooled. Not sure what her deal is, but whatever. I don’t even bother to acknowledge her dismissal. Instead, I look around the room to find an available seat. A couple of seats are available closest to the entrance, but it’s at the head of the table. I’m guessing Mr. Lair may take one of those seats when he arrives, and I don’t want to be in the front.
I make my way to the back of the room to take the last available seat before someone snags it. The voices that were once barely above a whisper around the table come to a complete pause when I pull out the chair. You could literally hear a pin drop if someone would. The guy whose back was originally turned to me slowly turns to see what caused the interruption. I nearly tip the chair over as I sit down. He’s wearing a hunter green Henley shirt and jeans now, but it’s him. Mr. Smug Hottie.
“Pardon me?”
Holy shit! I totally just said that last part out loud. I can feel the heat creeping up my skin, so I put my hands over my eyes and let my elbows keep me from face planting on the table.
“I can still see you, Brennan,” he teases.
“What are you doing here? I thought you said you didn’t work here!” I squeak. My attempt to change the course of this disaster is futile.
“Mr. Smug Hottie, huh?” My hands are still covering my eyes, but I can feel his stupid smirk. “We meet once, and you already give me a nickname. That’s cute.”
I wish the floor would just swallow me. Any moment now would be great. I know all eyes are really on me, so I need to shake this embarrassment off. I have to turn this around. I can’t let this be how my new co-workers get introduced to me. I remove my hands and put on the best brave face I could muster.
“Well, I had changed my mind about the hottie part after you opened your smug trap, so now I just call you Mr. Smug,” I huff. An audible gasp is heard through the silence.
“And here I thought we had gotten off to a good start.” He tsks. “I didn’t even get you caught being out there with me,” he adds in a whisper. He looks around the room, and suddenly, everyone busies themselves with carrying on like before. I know they’re still listening, though.
“So you never answered my question. I thought you said you didn’t work here,” I push, desperate to get the attention off me.
“I don’t. I’m just here for the meeting.”
He shrugs like it’s the most logical answer ever. I was about to question him further, but I feel a tap on my shoulder. It’s Tory, and she doesn’t look very happy with me. Then again, what else is new? Her forehead has creases that threaten to crack all that foundation she’s wearing. I hope she has stock in that stuff because I swear she has a department full on her face. She is about to tell me something, but then she looks over my shoulder and backs away. What the hell was that about? Why the sudden change in her pursuit to fuck with me? I was bracing myself for it. I’m not responsible for the shit that comes out of my mouth sometimes, especially when backed into a corner. I blame it on the flight or fight response. She doesn’t know I’ve verbally sliced her tens ways from Sunday already within my internal monologue. My “IM” has saved my job many times at the Neumanns. It’s my defense mechanism until you unleash my “zero fucks” mode.
I see Atticus for the first time today as he closes the conference room door and nods in this direction. Mr. Smug adjusts a black clip on his shirt that I haven’t noticed until now, and an echo sounds through the room.
“Now that everyone is here, I’ll get started,” he announces. Get started? What the hell is he going on about?
“We have a new housekeeper here among us. I would like you all to give a warm welcome to Miss Brennan Delavan. Brennan, can you stand please, so those at the other end can see you?”
I swear my jaw would have hit the floor if it wasn’t attached. Of course. Why didn’t I figure this out sooner? He’s about twenty-five, walks around like he owns the place, and the workers respect him because of who he is. That’s why they went back to minding their business with a single look from him. He’s the owner’s son! Geesh. And I called him Mr. Smug to his face. He just let me dig my own grave. I bet he’s going to tell his father on me. It’s a prime example of how my mouth gets me into trouble.
I watch as Brennan mentally tries to piece together who I am. Her reluctance to stand is endearing. I had known before I suggested she do so that she didn’t like to be the center of attention. I bet my other instincts about her are correct too. She got my attention this morning with those sterling gray eyes of hers that border on being completely clear. They’re the most fascinating eyes I’ve ever seen. Then she opened that naïve mouth of hers, and I couldn’t resist toying with her. The easy banter between us was a nice change of pace. I could have told her that she was poaching on my personal space—that the fourth floor of my domain stretches from midship to the forward—but I enjoyed her concern of me being caught somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be a little too much. I had opened the helipad that doubles as a retractable ceiling, leading down to the third floor. I was planning to go for a swim—until she wandered out onto my deck.
“Um, hi,” Brennan finally says with a timid wave after half standing. She takes her seat quicker than she stood. “So you’re Mr. Lair’s son?” she asks a little too loudly. Half of the room roars in hysterics while the remaining stare at her in disbelief. Surprisingly, I don’t like their reaction one bit. I observe Brennan flinch, embarrassed of her assessment.
“I’m Mr. Lair, Brennan,” I reply softly. She knits her fingers together, and those beautiful grays widen. She’s actually quite stunning in an understated way. The baggy uniform is far from flattering, but the sweats she wore this morning gave me a glimpse at the stacked figure that is now being hidden. Her hair pulled up into that nun bun reveals her long, delicate neck and kissably soft yet pale skin. My reddened handprint would be an exquisite contrast against the paleness. Although my taste is nothing short of extravagant in many ways, I do appreciate her simplicity. I incorporate asceticism into my life whenever I can. Flash is for the public. I have to exude wealth to ensure I attract that business. But when I’m in my domain, I like to strip myself of that persona. Yeah, I have more money than I could ever spend in my lifetime, but other than my wildly exotic taste in liquor, I strive to keep things simple. Jeans and joggers are my go-to. To hell with stuffy suits.
“As in the owner of this boat, Mr. Lair?” she confirms, bringing me back to the here and now. I nod, and her shoulders drop. She looks around the room before looking down.
“Who did you think he was?” Tory asks condescendingly from behind her. I shush her with a warning look. It doesn’t help that Brennan is sitting in Tory’s usual seat. Senior staff sits at this end of the table closer to me during meetings for obvious purposes. They’re my leadership team. I wasn’t going to let Tory make her move, though. Honestly, I don’t think it’s a good idea for Tory to be over her training. I can see the claws ready to come out because she feels threatened. We’ve fucked more than I care to admit—last night included—but I’m trying to distance myself from her now. I came to that conclusion when she kept trying to make sure it was okay she fucked my cousins. It’s a troublesome indication that she thinks of us as more than what we are.
It won’t be easy to wean myself from her while I’m on the cruise without alternative pussy. She knows exactly how to give me what I like. She caters to my kinkiest vices. Surprisingly, though, my attention is divided. Right now, my dick is twitching as I think of the raven-haired, naïve girl sitting next to me. I want to break her in the best way possible. I want to shatter her innocence in splintering, unrecognizable pieces.
“Sorry, sir,” Brennan whispers in a voice so low, I wasn’t sure if I heard her right.
“Nothing to be sorry for. Welcome to The Playboy’s Lair.”
“We have six volunteers. We need one more person,” I encourage.
“I’ll do it,” Brennan says timidly as she raises her hand. She stares at a spot on the table like it has the answers to world peace on it.
My rational self is screaming fuck no, but my urge to bring her over to the dark side wins out. I can keep an eye on her better, I reason with myself.
“Great! Way to step up, guys. I’ll have just you seven stay behind, and everyone else is dismissed.”
Tory lingers behind, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. As the senior supervising housekeeper, she doesn’t have restricted access to the aft. I don’t need her to stay, though. Her stint as Brennan’s trainer has been cut short.
“You can go, Tory. I only need these seven to stay,” I emphasize again.
“Yes, sir,” she mocks.
Yeah, it’s time that she is cut off. Just because I intermittently give her some cock doesn’t give her permission to be insubordinate. She’d better watch herself, or she just may find herself out on her ass. I wait until she closes the door behind her before resuming the meeting.
“How many of you have worked the aft before?” I recognize a couple of faces, but other than Brennan, I’m not sure. Four people raise their hand, so that makes the process easier. I put the two guys that I recognize in charge of getting everybody up to speed. I split them into two groups with a team leader for each. I inform them that the team with three will have another member join them later. His name is Seth, but he couldn’t make it to the meeting because I currently had him covering in the kitchen.
One group will take the first floor, and one will take the second. I assign Brennan to the group responsible for the second floor since that is where I’ll be.
“What will we have to do?” Brennan asks.
I see right through her nonchalant questioning. She is terrified and equal parts embarrassed by her inability to make the connection of who I was, yet she volunteered anyway. It’s a true testament to her tenacity. She is an enigma I can’t wait to crack. I want to know what makes her tick—where her hot spots are. Yeah, that went south real fast.
“The same job you would’ve done in the forward. Only now, you’ll concentrate on the second floor. It’s less work, but it’s divided among a smaller team,” I explain. “You will be privy to more information about what happens on that floor, so remember the NDA you signed. Your team leader will be Jacob. He will be the one to get you up to speed and train you now.”
“So I … I mean, we won’t be involved in illegal sex stuff then, right?”
I swear she is too fucking cute. Illegal sex stuff? Why does she slide past my asshole tendencies? Anyone else would have gotten a serious ass chewing—a verbal beatdown for even asking something so stupid. The duplicity is a double-edged sword. I want to fuck and protect her at the same damn time.
“As opposed to what, the legal kind? Is that what you want? To be a participant?”
Now, I’m just fucking with her again. I can’t help it. I watch as the mask of strength slips off her naked, makeup-free face. Her eyebrows nearly disappear into her hairline, and her breath hitches. My dick throbs against my jeans. I bet she is a virgin. I’d put my net worth on it. Her virginal skin beneath my hand is too much to ask of myself to resist. Goddammit to hell. She walked right into my lair of sex—a fucking virgin.
“No offense, sir, but no thank you,” she squeaks out.
I don’t like this version of her. The one that blends in with the other obedient workers. I like the snarky girl I met this morning who referred to me as Mr. Smug Hottie. I’m surrounded by obedience—hell, I demand it—so why do I want something different from her? Why is my little rebel such a cock tease?
“Well, in that case, Brennan, no, you don’t have to be involved in any of the sex stuff,” I chide. “Although, I’m really curious now as to what you think goes on back there. I don’t sell sex or encourage prostitution. My operations are completely legal. I think your fantasies may be running a bit wild, miss.”
She flushes crimson, and my dick jumps. My little rebel just may have a wild side. I was just kidding with the whole fantasy thing, but I may have mistakenly hit the proverbial nail on the head. If she has any untapped fantasies, I’ll make it my mission to explore each one of them. Oh, this cruise just became a hell of a lot more fun.
“I don’t know what to think, Mr. Lair. This all new to me. I’m up for the challenge, though.”
I need to end this meeting now. If my jeans get any tighter, they will cut the circulation off to my dick. I didn’t miss the hint of snark there. I want to spank her ass and then stuff that smart mouth of hers with my cock. It appears the newest member of the team is a spitfire when pushed. I’m relieved to know she is not a complete pushover because that gives me something to work with.
Yes, sir … no, sir gets old with me really quick. I need a challenge. I need a reason to make that ass glow—a reason to leave my mark in a disciplinary wake. I rarely lead one of the experiences on these cruises. We change it up every time, and my waiting list is ridiculous. I haven’t taught “Intro to Erotic Spanking” since the very first cruise three years ago. Now, my restraint will be severely tested. Spanking is not just a class to me. It’s an acquired taste, and it’s what gets me off. Teaching techniques all day, introducing toys, and being involved in the demonstrations with the novice guests is only going to heighten my need to have my own personal playtime. Normally, I’d use Tory to satisfy that itch because she’s available as my sex kitten on every cruise. Only now, I want to get acquainted with a virgin pussy and a virgin ass.
“You all are dismissed. Jacob and Henry … I need you two to take your teams to your assigned floors and get them familiarized immediately with their shift, expectations, and for the love of God, get Miss Delavan fitted for a uniform that actually fits.”
I see Brennan wince at my last statement, but it’s not an insult directed at her. It didn’t go undetected that I’m sure Tory put Brennan in the potato sack fit. She’s never had competition before. I don’t bring my conquests on board with me, and I don’t cross the line with my guests. I don’t make it a habit to fornicate with my employees either, but Tory was on a determined mission to fuck me from the first time she stepped foot on my boat. I eventually gave in, and I’d be lying if I said she was anything less than spectacular in bed. Plus, she likes to be spanked with any and everything—both thuddy and stingy. My dick is partial to her talents and open mind. I just need to find a way to convince my brain to move on.
Everyone leaves, but as if I’ve conjured her up, Tory appears moments later. A distinctive click signals what she’s come back for. Or did she even leave?
“What do you want, Tory?” I ask as if I don’t know. “I don’t appreciate your act of defiance in front of the staff.”
“What defiance? What is it that I did wrong this time?” She seductively inches closer, and with each step, my resolve weakens. My dick is already hard from thoughts of Brennan and all the depraved shit that I want to do to her. At this point, I just need to bust a nut. I don’t give two shits if Tory think she’s winning either.
“You know what. The bitchy attitude toward the new hire … the refusal to leave after everybody was dismissed—take your pick.” With one snatch of the measly fabric that is keeping her tits from my view, the buttons go clashing against the marble. She tries to remove the shirt and jacket as one, but I still her hands.
“No need,” I chastise. I turn her so that she is facing the conference table. “Assume the fucking position,” I order.
I’m sure she thinks
I’m in the mood to play because she’s been disobedient. She puts her hands on the table in front of her and pushes her ass in my direction. I undo her dress pants and ease them down her long sexy legs. She isn’t wearing panties, as usual, and I can smell how wet she already is for me. I raise her jacket and shirt combo just enough to get a better view of her delectable tight ass.
Too bad she’s not going to get the spanking I’m sure she’s craving. I know her cues, and right now, she wants to feel my hand on her ass. I grab the condom from my pocket and undo my pants in a rush. This will be quick. I slide the latex down my already hard shaft and line myself up at her entrance. I waste no time slamming into her dripping wet pussy.
She backs her ass up to meet my every stroke, and I know this fuck will be even shorter than I thought. I wrap a single hand around her hair and yank as I pound into her. Her heat is so damn addicting. My balls begin to tingle, my impending orgasm so damn close. I need her to get there.
“This is your pussy, Silas,” she squeals.
I can tell from the clench that she has on my cock that she is close too. I reach around her and massage her clit as I slow my strokes to the tempo that I know does it for her. I nibble on her ear, and that’s all that it takes. Her fucking orgasm pulls me over—my load ripped from me like a rocket. I push her forward and piston my hips to give her every last damn drop. I let my dick throb for a minute before I pull out and remove the condom.