His Pretty Toy by Shanna Handel
Chapter 6
Trent
I wake at dawn, untangling her from my arms. Her hair is spread out over her face like a fan. She gives a deep sigh, rolling over, hugging the massive feather pillows. Adorable.
Is that why I did it? Why I asked her to spend the night? I have a hard and fast rule for the girls I fuck. In my bed, out of my bed. Never there when the sun comes up. I wake like I do the rest of my life: alone.
I’ve been working too much. I think that might be why the dreams come more frequently, induced by stress. I could use some time off. God knows Gretchen’s been after me for months to take off a few days.
Things will have to be arranged.
I call Café Leche to find out her work schedule. She’s due in at noon today, ten tomorrow, then she has the following day off. I make a request to replace her for her next two shifts with a highly trained barista from Paris, one I’ve brought over from my family’s roastery to work in my office building.
They accept, but not because they want to learn any Parisian secrets of the trade. Apparently, Ashley’s not taken a day off in months. Her colleagues say she deserves some fun.
I call Gretchen.
“Trent, Trent, Trent.” Her voice is all honey and teasing. “Where the hell were you this morning, you old dog? I haven’t not seen you in the office by six a.m., well, ever. Anything to do with that hot little brunette from last night?”
“Number one, if you want to keep your job, mind your business.”
“Got it.” She laughs. She knows I’d never fire her. I don’t even know my schedule without her. “And number two?”
“Cancel all my meetings for the next—oh—thirty-six hours.”
I hear the smile in her voice. “Done. I’m minding my business so I won’t ask what you’ll be doing but just promise me one thing, Trent?”
“Yes?” I tense, hating to get too personal.
But she cares about me. I know she does. Her voice is pleading. “Have some damn fun. It’s been awhile—”
I cut her off. I can practically feel the dozens of unanswered questions she wants to ask me coming through the phone. “Thanks. Bye, Gretch.” I hang up.
Food. We need food. I only had the staff stay for a few hours last night. I figured Finch would be taking her home by midnight. We’re on our own.
I glance over at her. She’s got nothing to wear, other than the gown and heels from last night. I put in a few more calls. My favorite breakfast joint in the city doesn’t deliver but they’ve made an exception for me. I’ve promised to use them to cater my next event at the estate.
I text Gretchen for Ashley’s size. I call the boutique Gretchen had ordered the dress from, requesting a few items of clothing to hold her over.
If she says yes.
What the hell am I doing?
By the time Ashley wakes up, there’s clothing and food on the way. I just need to ask her to stay.
She stretches, giving me a shy smile. “Oh, I slept hard.”
“Must have been the workout I gave you last night.” I tug at the sheet, exposing her breasts.
Her face flushes but the smile stays. She pulls the sheets tightly around her naked body like I haven’t already seen her beautiful curves. “I should get dressed. I need to get going.”
“About that.” I really shouldn’t be doing this. “I have a proposal.”
An hour later, she’s wearing a pair of jeans and a tee shirt that fit her perfectly, happily munching on a piece of bacon. She calls her neighbor to let her know she’s not coming home. Everything else I’ve taken care of.
“You know,” she takes a sip of orange juice, “you could have paid me a lot less to stay.”
“You’d be a terrible businesswoman. You never tell your customer they’ve overpaid.” I take a sip of coffee. The coffee is the only thing I don’t love from this restaurant. I’ve been spoiled by the quality of my own.
“Still. That’s a lot of money for thirty-six hours.” She mumbles the next part to herself, but I hear her. “Not that I don’t desperately need it.” Her eyes brighten as she brushes toast crumbs from her fingers onto the cloth napkin in her lap. “So, what are we doing today?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I’ve no idea. I could bring the crew back on and we could go out on the lake?” I should have ordered her a bathing suit.
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes.” I ask to be polite, though I already know the answer. “Have you even been on a yacht?”
Her brows raise and she looks like she wants to roll her eyes. “Did you really just ask me that?”
“Careful, sassy.” I pierce a chunk of pineapple with my fork, popping it in her mouth. “You’re about to be under contract.”
She chews it with a grin. “About that… I guess I should read the terms before I sign this one, shouldn’t I?”
There’s a knocking on the door. “Speaking of contracts. Ours is here.”
Her nervous gaze flits to mine. She lifts her napkin from her lap, putting it on the table. “Okay.”
“It’s pretty straightforward.” Nothing crazy. It just says I can do what I want with her and she can’t press charges. I don’t put it on paper but of course, I’ll be responsible for her pleasure as well. “But you will be reading it this time.”
I’ll make sure of that.
I go to the door. Finch knows better than to ask questions, but I see the smile he’s trying to hide on his face. Gretchen’s not the only one who thinks I need a day off. I take the clipboard and pen he hands me. “Goodbye, Finch.” I close the door before he can say anything.
When I return to the main salon, she’s got the table cleared, a nice clean patch in front of her for the contract.
“Come. We’ll sign it upstairs.”
She follows behind me and we step out into the sun. The crew’s already at work, deckhands untying the thick black ropes from the dock. The stewardesses are boarding, looking smart in their crisp white shirts and navy skirts. They make their way to the galley to prep for lunch.
It’s going to be a good day.
She follows me up to the top deck. She goes to the railing, looking out over the lake. “It’s so beautiful.”
I take a seat on the bunny pad. It’s a semi-circle of thick, wide cushions covered in white fabric set on a low platform, like a massive cushy bed. Only this one overlooks the water. I pat the seat beside me. “Come.”
She joins me just as a stewardess arrives with two flutes of drinks on a tray. She smiles warmly. “Mimosa?”
Ashley looks to me. “Isn’t a little early?”
“We are on vacation.” I agree with her, but why not? I take the glasses, handing one to her.
She takes a sip and gives a little giggle, feeling naughty for having champagne so early in the morning.
The boat leaves the dock, cruising through the water. We’re alone. We sip our drinks, watching the world go by as we glide out further into the lake.
“Now for the contract.” I take her empty glass, setting it on a table beside mine. “Take off your jeans.”
Her eyes pop open wide. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I stare at her. “You know how I feel about waiting.”
“Apparently, you feel the same way about saying please.” She stands, facing me.
She’s nervous and her fingers fumble as she reaches for the button of her jeans. She eyes me warily as she tugs at the denim, pulling the pants down over her hips to her mid-thigh.
Her pussy is on full display. She’s wearing no panties. Did I forget to order her some?
My mistake.
I move back on the cushions till the back of my calves are pressed against the wood of the platform. I spread my legs, giving her plenty of room. I set the contract on the cushion to my right, the bottom of the clipboard facing the outside of my thigh.
I catch her eye, holding her shame-filled gaze. I pat my thigh. “Over you go.”
Her nervous gaze darts around. “Can anyone see me?”
“Not a soul. But keep me waiting and I’ll call the crew up to watch.” I wouldn’t—she’s for my eyes only—but I love to make her blush.
She swallows hard. Moving quickly, she lays herself over my lap, her legs stretched out behind her, her elbows sunk into the cushions. I love the feel of her over my thighs. I love the sight of her bare ass in the sun, just waiting for me to do with it whatever I please.
“Now, start reading.” There are five paragraphs; each have to be initialed, then her signature is required at the end of the document.
She gives a shuddering breath, then starts. “I, Ashley Barnes,” she goes on, reading the entirety of the first paragraph.
“Stop there.” I run my hand over her smooth ass, her skin warm from the sun. “Last time, you initialed there without reading it, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I did.” She punctuates her sentence with an exasperated sigh.
I give her ass a pop. “Yes, sir?” I love how her flesh jiggles.
She wiggles her hips. “Yes, sir. I did.”
“Never, ever sign your name without reading first.” I spank her bottom with hard staccato swats. “Understand?”
“Yes.” She feels my hand hovering over her ass and quickly remembers. “Sir!”
“Good girl. Initial and onto the next one.”
She scrawls a swirling A.B. on the paper, then glances over her shoulder at me for direction. She’s sassy on the outside, but a few spanks and she’s as submissive as can be.
“Go on.” I pat her bottom, making it jiggle.
She reads the next paragraph. “I will not hold Trent Lavigne responsible…”
“Keep going.”
She reads to the end of the paragraph. “That’s it.” She looks over her shoulder, awaiting direction.
“Ready for your spanking?” I ask.
Her head flies back. “You’re going to spank me after every paragraph?”
“Every time you sign. To punish you for last time, and remind you for the next time in your life that you have to sign your name.”
She gives a little harrumph noise. “Yes, sir.”
I spank that perfect part of her ass, the curve just above the tops of her thighs. Short, stinging smacks, more to induce shame and that lovely jiggling than pain. Her skin is turning pink.
And I’m turning her on.
She gives a little moan, wiggling her hips over my lap. We still have three paragraphs to go. At the end of each one, I give her a spanking. After each spanking, her voice becomes breathy with desire, her hips have a hard time keeping still.
We get to the signature.
Now I’m going to spank her for real. I get the feeling she doesn’t have anyone looking out for her, not really, and I want her to learn her lesson. I grab her wrists, pinning them to her lower back.
“Hey! What are you doing?” She tries to look at me over her shoulder but she can’t.
“I want your ass on fire. I want you to remember this the next time someone asks you to sign something.” I bring my hand down hard.
She cries out. A handprint rises on her ass and my palm stings. I spank her again. She howls. And again. “Please,” she begs. I spank her one more time.
A whine rises in the back of her throat. “Now sign.” I pat her ass.
She grabs the pen, quickly scribbling her name. I help her up, making her sit her naked, punished ass on my lap.
“There’s a good girl.” I push away a strand of hair that’s fallen over her eye. “I have other ways of making you remember.” I tug at her jeans, pulling them down around her ankles.
Her eyes widen, her arms wrapping around my neck. “You do?”
“I do.” I run my hand up the inside of her thigh and she gives a little shudder. “Spread your thighs for me.”
She parts her legs. I finger her pretty pussy, playing in her slick juices. Her head lolls back, her eyes closing as she gives a soft sigh. She’s so wet, she’s going to leave a damp patch on my trousers. I might have to punish her for that.
The thought makes my cock hard as a rock.
