“I will,” Zach nodded. “Too bad we can’t say the same thing to Jackson Wardlow.”
“No shit,” Sam said grimly. “If only his adoring public knew what an asshole he is.”
“They’d probably love him more,” Zach remarked climbing into his car. “You know how people love a man who’s irascible. Women want to save him, men want to have the courage to be like him.”
“I think there’s a movie in there somewhere,” Sam said thoughtfully. “I’ll catch ya later.”
Zach started up the engine of his powerful car, and with his tires squeaking on the highly polished concrete he headed out of the garage.
Being the middle of the day traffic along Pacific Coast Highway was light, and he was glad he hadn’t waited until after work. The commute from Santa Monica into Malibu was no fun during rush hour, and as he zipped past the sparkling ocean he pushed back the nightmarish idea of Kylie Hartman working at Titan, and focused his thoughts on Anna Lee.
She’d be sitting on the couch waiting for him dressed in a skirt with no underwear underneath it. Her hair would be pulled back in a ponytail, and on the coffee table in front of her would be a hairbrush, a wooden spoon, and the short, black leather strap he’d bought just for her. He’d sit next to her, they’d talk about why he was there, she’d crawl over his lap, and he’d decide which implement, if any, he would use.
Though he’d kept romance out of their relationship he rarely left without a raging erection. She was a beautiful young woman, her bottom was truly splendid, and most of the time he had to use a great deal of self-control to walk away, but he had no desire to get caught up in a romantic affair. She was too needy and neurotic for his taste, and he was fairly sure he was too old and conservative for her, but his unique friendship with Anna Lee had helped fill a void in his life. Finding a bright, talented woman who was also a submissive wasn’t easy, especially in the City of Angels, and while being with Anna wasn’t a romance, at least it helped scratch his itch.
He was nearing her house, a stretch of the highway where the cliffs rose tall on one side, and the ocean was on the other. Parking was dreadful. There was nowhere along the side of the road so he had to leave his car in front of her garage. That meant doing a U-turn, and that in itself meant taking his life in his hands.
“Why do people live out here?” he mumbled as he slowed down and pulled into the center lane. “Miles from a grocery store or places to eat, traffic noise day and night, nowhere for guests to park. I don’t understand it.”
Finally seeing a break in the stream of cars he turned his Bentley around and drove carefully on to the empty area in front of her house, which was actually the back of her house. The front was on the sand looking out at the ocean.
Climbing from his car, praying a motorist wouldn’t inadvertently swerve and turn it into a heap of twisted metal, he walked down the side steps to her door and pushed it open. That was one of his rules. No ringing the doorbell, no waiting for her to answer; it had to be unlocked so he could walk right in.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said gratefully as he walked forward.
That was another rule. She wasn’t allowed to run up and greet him. She had to wait patiently on the couch. He was hoping the few simple directives that made her use her self-control would permeate other areas of her life. She was also required to call him Sir, she had to be extremely polite, and she had thank him after he finished warming her bottom.
“Is there beer in the fridge?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Wandering into the kitchen he pulled open the refrigerator door and studied the contents. A block of cheese, two half empty bottles of white wine, a six pack, a half-gallon of milk, a container of cottage cheese, and an apple.
“I’m not happy about your empty refrigerator,” he said grabbing a can of beer and popping the top.
“There’s so much food on the set I don’t really need anything here,” she replied.
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled as he stopped to stare at the ocean.
A group of pelicans were skimming the top of the water, a golden retriever was splashing through the surf after a stick, and in the distance two yachts were sailing blissfully by.
Okay, so maybe I do get why people live out here. Looking out at this every day is probably good for the soul.
“Zach? How am I going to get through this?”
“By understanding that you’re a professional,” he replied turning around and locking her eyes. “Professionals do what they must, and they do it with a smile. It can be a fake smile, and you can rant and rave when you come home, but on the set you do what’s expected, and you remain pleasant.”
“Anyone but him,” she groaned. “He’s such an asshole.”
“I know,” Zach said moving over and sitting next to her. “Someone else used that word to describe him today, but Anna, there are a thousand assholes in this town, and he won’t be the first one you’ll have to kiss.”
“Ugh, just the thought of it,” she groaned. “I’m a wreck.”
“Definitely no nudity though, right?”
“No, not today.”
“I don’t want you to have to explain a red backside,” he mumbled.
“Oh, I didn’t even think of that!”
“I’m going to spank you quite hard. Do you know why?”
“Because you want me to be sore to remind me that I have to behave, and because it calms me down,” she said softly.
“Correct, and because you have no food in the house. I don’t care if they feed you on the set, you need food here. Good food. You’re too thin.”
“I can’t eat when I’m nervous,” she protested.
“Let me put this another way. The next time I’m here, I’ll expect to see you’ve made an effort. No excuses, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied dropping her eyes.
“Good. Sit there and think about that for minute. When I come back you’re going to crawl over my knee without a word.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Standing up he took a long swig of his beer, then made his way upstairs to her bathroom. There was a powder room off the living area, but it was tiny and cramped and he needed space. His cock was already asking for attention, and he knew he’d never get through the spanking without having a hell of a hard on if he didn’t deal with it.
Her bedroom was white. The walls, her bedspread, the lamps, everything, and it was spotless. She was a walking oxymoron. She was an emotional mess, but her house was pristine. He laid his jacket on the bed and moved into her bathroom, and as he closed the door he noticed she’d collected some seashells and placed them in a small, white basket.
“You are a sweet girl,” he muttered, then removing his trousers and briefs, he took hold of his cock and began to rub.
Closing his eyes he let his mind wander, and it was Kylie who meandered in. She was contradicting him about his guidelines to determine a script’s viability. Tired of her impudence he grabbed her around the waist, bent her over, and began swatting her backside.
His imagination took hold; she was suddenly naked and he was holding a round, wooden hairbrush, and as she yelped and blustered he landed a series of stinging swats.
Abruptly his climax erupted over his hand, and he stifled his groans as it shuddered through to its finish, then leaning against the wall he let out a heavy breath.
What the hell was that? Kylie Hartman? Yeah, I would love to whip her ass, but that was unexpected. Totally unexpected.
CHAPTER FIVE
Anna Lee didn’t know why Zach’s authority made her feel so much better. It settled her nerves, gave her confidence, and made her feel cared for. Whenever she needed him, he would drop everything and come to her aid, and even though she had felt his erection a few times, he’d never once tried to get her into bed. She felt safe when he was around, and if he said she could do something she believed him.
Waiting in the living room, her butterflies fluttering, his words echoed through
her mind.
‘Professionals do what they must.’ He’s right. I have to remember I am a professional. I have to learn to handle crap like this, and I will. It won’t be easy but I can do it. God knows I’ve been through a lot worse than one of the screen’s biggest heartthrobs slobbering all over me. I’ll close my eyes and pretend it’s someone else, like…hmmm…I know, Angelo Frattiano. What I wouldn’t give to have him moving his hands over my body.
The sound of Zach’s footsteps on the stairs snapped her out of her daydream, and taking a deep breath she glanced up. He was carrying his jacket, and she watched him pause to place it around the back of a chair. Turning to face her he purposefully began to roll up his sleeves.
Damn he’s sexy. I wish he wasn’t so straight and so serious. He is seriously sexy.
Moving across to the couch he sat next to her, and as he’d instructed she silently crawled over his lap. As his hand pushed her skirt up to her waist she felt the goosebumps. It happened every time. Closing her eyes she sighed as his soft palm smoothed over her cheeks, and when he landed the first hot stinging swat, she caught her breath. He had said he was going to spank her hard, and reaching out her arms she grabbed a cushion.
Zach stared at his handprint. It was a habit. The first pink stain always caught his attention, but his pause was fleeting, and as he set to work reddening the beautiful backside he began to speak.
“You’re a professional, it’s time you started acting like one. I hope I don’t have to repeat this spanking because of reports of willful or impolite behavior.”
“Yes, Sir,” she bleated.
“If I do I will not be pleased, and I’ll bring my stick with me. We both know you don’t like my little stick, don’t we?”
“Ooh, Sir, no, you won’t have to. You’ll hear nothing but good things, I swear.”
“Uh-huh, I hope so. I might even swing by the set after I finish later today to get a first hand report from the director,” he warned increasing the speed and severity of his slaps, and traveling his stinging palm to her sit spot.
“OW, OW, OW, Sir!”
“Head in the pillow,” he said brusquely as he reached across her body to pick up the hairbrush. “Six of the best with the brush. The first three, to make sure you keep your promise, and the second three, because there was no food in your refrigerator. We’ve talked about this before.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“Don’t be sorry, be smart. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Like I said, head in the pillow.”
Swishing down the hairbrush with three hard, slow swats, he elicited a loud, muffled yowl.
“Word of the day is professional. That’s what will be in your head when you walk on to that set. Now for the empty refrigerator.”
“Ooh, Sir,” she groaned.
“Head in the cushion,” he repeated.
Ignoring the mewling complaint he repeated the trilogy on her opposite cheek, then placing the hairbrush back on the table he began his soothing caress. Listening to her sighs and soft moans, he continued to soothe her scorched skin until he felt her completely relax, then he pulled her into his lap.
“Thank you, Sir,” she moaned, “thank you, so much.”
“I’ll always be here for you, Anna, you’re not alone,” he crooned.
“Why are you so nice to me?” she sighed as she curled into him.
“Because inside that crazy head of yours is a very sweet girl,” he said tenderly, “and because you need me. Every man likes to feel needed.”
“I do need you,” she breathed.
“Tell me what you’re going to do when you get to work?”
“I’m going to be very polite and pleasant, I’m going to be very agreeable, and very professional.”
“Excellent, and if Jackson makes some rude remark?”
“If it’s meant to be funny, I’ll pretend to laugh.”
“What if he tries to stick his tongue down your throat when he’s kissing you?”
“This morning, when I heard I was doing this scene with him today, I thought I’d eat some garlic for lunch,” she giggled.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell me that before you were over my knee,” he grinned. “Back to the question.”
“If he tries to push his tongue in my mouth, or anything else like that, I’ll pretend he’s Angelo Frattiano,” she said wistfully.
“That’s a good idea. That has my approval.”
“I feel so much calmer,” she said shifting out of his arms. “You should start a business. I swear, you’d make a fortune.”
“My salary is just fine,” he remarked, “and besides, I’m particular about the bottoms I spank.”
“Are there many?” she asked feeling a tinge of jealousy.
“None like yours,” he replied, “and I have to admit I haven’t been dating much recently.”
“You should, you’re such a catch.”
“Thank you for saying so, and now, my dear professional Princess, I must get back to the office.”
“Thank you again for coming out here,” she said kissing him on the cheek.
“I know you’ll make me proud, and get some groceries delivered,” he reminded her rising to his feet.
“I will, I do it first thing tomorrow.”
She walked him to the door, and giving her a last, quick hug, he trotted up the steps to his car. Climbing behind the wheel he pulled his phone from his pocket. No messages.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, and bringing the car to life, he cautiously pulled out into traffic.
As Zach was heading back to his office, Kylie was walking into her Condo in Venice carrying several garment bags. On her way back from lunch she had swung by the Century City shopping center and splurged on some new outfits for her upcoming interviews.
As she began hanging her new clothes in her closet, she studied each of them carefully. Everything she saw she liked, which wasn’t always the case; the lighting in fitting rooms was designed to be flattering. She was almost finished when her cellphone rang, and picking it up she saw it was David, her father’s assistant.
“Hey, what’s up?” she asked dropping down on her bed.
“I have some appointment times for you. Got a pen?”
“Yep,” she replied grabbing her notebook and pen from her bag. “Go ahead.”
He rattled of several times and dates, and when he finished with Curtis Fielding at Titan Pictures, she felt an uptick in her pulse.
“Who is Curtis Fielding?”
“He’s Head of Cable Television and Development,” David replied, “but you have another meeting at Titan as well.”
“I do? With who?” she asked her fingers unexpectedly tightening around the phone.
“Zach Taylor, Head of Motion Picture Development, but that’s not an interview for a job. Sam Golden thinks this guy can give you some advice, maybe help you decide what you really want to do.”
All Kylie had heard was the name, Zach Taylor. The ‘it’s not an interview for a job,’ was lost in the sudden churning of her stomach.
“When is this meeting? With Zach Taylor, I mean?”
“You’ll see him first, at 3 p.m., but he doesn’t have much time so it will be quick, probably fifteen minutes, then you’ll head over to Curtis Fielding’s office.
“And that’s tomorrow, right?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks, David. Tell dad I’ll meet him at le Petit Cochon at seven. Angelo’s picking me up so he doesn’t have to come by here to get me.”
“Will do, oh, and congratulations, Kylie. You must be very excited.”
“Thanks, I am. Bye, David.” Shit. Zach Taylor? I want to see him but I don’t. I’ll be so embarrassed. I have to go. Shit. I wonder if he’ll talk about spanking me again. I have to prepare myself, I have to know what to say before I get there. Shit. How can I be dreading something, and so excited about it at the same time?
CHAPTER SIX
It was after six when Marth
a popped her head in the door of Zach’s office.
“I’m heading out,” she declared. “Did I tell you about Kylie Hartman?”
“What?” he asked snapping his head up.
“Kylie Hartman. Sam called and asked me to squeeze her in for a meeting with you tomorrow around three. Said you’d know what it was about. Care to fill me in?”
“She’s Justin Hartman’s daughter. She’s just graduated from Cinema School and wants to be in development. I told him she wasn’t right for my team but I’d give her five minutes if he wanted me to.”
“I guess he wants you to,” Martha remarked.
“I guess he does.”
“You don’t look too happy about it.”
“She’s…kind of…a pain. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it, and thanks for staying late and getting those emails out.”
“Hey, you remembered my Latte. One good turn and all that.”
“Could you do me one last favor before you go? It’s a quickie,”
“Sure, what?”
“Call the set and find out if they’ve wrapped, and if they haven’t where they are in the schedule.”
“Ah, Miss Pickford.”
“Exactly.”
Zach returned to the script he was reading. It was intense and gripping, and with the right tweaks it had tremendous potential. The title, Moonbeams and Fairy Dust, belied the content. It was about drug use, but not the drug use on the streets. It was a story about the infestation of drugs in the upper echelon of society. For the celebrated in Hollywood it was almost a given, but politicians, philanthropists, CEO’s, that was another matter entirely, and one rarely touched on.
“I’ve got news,” Martha said walking into his office.
“Which is?”
“They haven’t even started with Anna Lee and Jackson yet.”
“What?”
“You know they’re shooting at some big house in Santa Monica.”
Disciplining the Director's Daughter (Hollywood After Dark Book 1) Page 3
