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Teaching Abby (Surrender Book 2)

Page 3

by Becca Jameson


  I shake my head. “I won’t get overwhelmed. I’m excited to dive in. You guys do amazing work. I’m humbled to be a part of it for the summer. Thank you for the opportunity. I could eat, sleep, and breathe this business.”

  He cocks his head to one side. “Then why are you going to law school?”

  I feel my cheeks pinken and shrug, aware that Levi is watching me as well. “I love law too. I’ve always had two sides, the academic side and this creative side. So far, I’ve juggled both. But I can’t keep it up, so I made the decision to go to law school in the fall.”

  “Fair enough.” He nods. “You’re certainly well-rounded. Your resume is impressive.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Stop grilling the poor girl, and let her get settled in. She’s been traveling all day.” This comes from Meredith as she slides a tray of cookies out of the oven.

  Julius rolls his eyes, but he’s facing me, and there’s a playful twinkle in them that makes my heart beat faster again.

  Levi laughs as we leave the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder. “Julius was raised in this house. Meredith is more like a mother than an employee.”

  We climb a wide set of stairs next to the kitchen and arrive on the second floor. The hardwood looks original to me, but it’s been resurfaced at some point. It’s polished to perfection, and I wonder how many other people are on staff here.

  We pass several closed doors and then Levi stops at an open doorway and ushers me inside with an extended arm. “Julius chose this room for you. If you hate it, there are others to choose from. You can always switch.”

  I step inside, wondering how anyone could possibly find fault with this room. The first thing I notice is that it’s huge. The floors are hardwood with large plush white rugs. The bed is king-sized and four-posted, a dark wood that matches the dresser and end tables. The comforter is fluffy and white, and the head of the bed has about a dozen white pillows in various sizes arranged symmetrically. “It’s perfect. Thank you,” I murmur.

  “Bathroom is attached.” He points to a door on the far side. “Closet is inside the bathroom. Randle probably already put your suitcases in there. I’ll let you unpack and rest. Meredith will have dinner ready for us at seven, though we don’t want you to feel like you have to adhere to any particular schedule either. You’re welcome to join us in the dining room or not if you’d prefer.”

  I lift my gaze to meet his in the doorway. “I’ll be there.” It would be rude to turn him down, besides, why would I? What would I do for food if I didn’t join them? I could always go out I suppose, but I don’t even know anyone, and besides, I came here to learn everything I can about the media world. I won’t let any opportunity pass me by.

  I wasn’t kidding about working all the time. I’m not the sort of person who sits around watching television anyway. Living with these three men might be challenging to my libido, but it’s also an opportunity I’m grateful for.

  When Levi closes the door with a soft snick, I wander over to the window. The view is even more spectacular from the second floor. Even the trees and the flowers look happy to live here. I can’t wait to explore the gardens.

  Chapter 6

  Master Julius

  “How in the hell is this going to work?” I ask Levi after he leaves Abby in her room and then finds me in my office. He’s shut the door behind him.

  “What do you mean? She seems nice, and she knows this business. She’s eager and willing and grateful. She’ll be fine.”

  My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “I’m not worried about her. I’m worried about us. Me. You. Beck. Jesus. She’s like a blank slate. I wanted to strip off her clothes and mark her backside the moment I saw her in the kitchen. The only time we’ve had women in this house was to train them. We don’t entertain vanilla people. I felt like I was lying to her the entire time we chitchatted.”

  Levi plops down in the leather armchair across from my desk and runs a hand over his face before meeting my gaze. “Yeah, I got that.”

  “And you didn’t think about this before you hired her?” I’m tapping a pencil rapidly on the desktop. It’s unlike me to be unnerved. I don’t get unnerved. I’m a Dom. A well-respected one at that. I manage a club. I train women. We train women.

  Levi sighs. “Look, I did what I thought was best for the company. We need a fresh perspective. Someone younger. Someone female.”

  “Someone innocent? Someone with the kind of body I want to grip with my fingers so firmly I leave my mark? Someone with thick brown hair I’d like to thread my fingers in while she sucks my cock? Someone with big green eyes that have never seen the inside of a fetish club?”

  Levi glares at me. “You done?”

  “Nope.” I lean back, trying to slow my heart rate.

  A knock sounds at the door moments before Beck steps inside, closing it behind him. “I heard raised voices.” He’s staring at Levi as he joins him in the other chair across from my home office desk. “I assume Julius is reading you the riot act.”

  “You want to join him?” Levi challenges.

  Beck snickers. “Fuck no. I want to listen.” He folds his arms and sits back as if to enjoy the show.

  I lean toward Beck, gripping the pencil in my hand tighter. “Don’t even pretend you aren’t as affected by Ms. Wise as I am. Both of you.” I glance at Levi. “I saw your faces.”

  Beck blows out a breath. “Fine. But we’re grown-ass adults. We can train this woman to handle a camera and edit her work for three months without taking our dicks out. We aren’t Neanderthals.”

  I laugh sardonically. “Did you listen to yourself? You said we were going to train her. Train her to handle a camera. The only training I’d like to do with that blank slate is to be the subject while one of you films her.”

  Beck adjusts his cock.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  Levi clears his throat. “Well, secure your dicks, men, because she’s here to do an internship in media, not submission.”

  I push from my seat and wander toward the windows. As I glance down at the garden below, I grip the sill with both hands and lean my forehead against the glass. Abby is down below, strolling through the garden, pausing every few steps to admire a flower or plant.

  She’s still wearing those white pants that were custom-made for her body, her fine ass swaying as she walks. She hasn’t even changed her heels. She was raised with money. She’s poised at all times. I wonder briefly if she owns a pair of jeans or ever does casual.

  To make matters worse, the next place my mind wanders is to the idea that I never want to know what her wardrobe consists of. I’d rather keep her naked and locked in my house for three months showing her another aspect of life she knows nothing about.

  She may be a brilliant scholar with excellent grades and admission to Harvard Law School. She may also be a natural with a camera and an eye for editing. But she’s truly missing out until she knows what it feels like to have every inch of her body ravaged by three men until she screams.

  My dick is hard. Again. I shove off the window and turn around. It’s going to be a long summer.

  Chapter 7

  Abby

  Monday has been a whirlwind day. I got up early and met my three bosses in the kitchen for breakfast before leaving for the office with Levi and Beck in Levi’s Lexus. I’ve learned that Julius doesn’t come in often. He truly is a silent partner. He works somewhere else I think, but I haven’t asked where.

  Levi spent the morning giving me a more thorough tour of the office and then left me to peruse their extensive computer files so I could get a better understanding of their style and the sort of jobs they take.

  They’re very talented. I could watch clips of their work for weeks and never get bored. Beck took me to lunch at a local deli. He’s much quieter than Levi, but he was polite and inquisitive about my experience, and he makes eye contact often.

  Yesterday, I thought perhaps he was shy or introverted. Today, I’m convinced he�
��s simply a man of few words. He seems to learn about the world around him by paying close attention rather than asking a million questions.

  I feel a bit like I’m under a microscope when he watches me. At lunch he made me squirm several times. This is the first day in my life that I’ve felt even a remote lack of confidence. It’s not that I don’t feel worthy of this opportunity. It’s more that I feel like it will take me a while to prove myself.

  I wonder if all three of them were actually in agreement about hiring me. It was Levi who interviewed me on the phone and he’s the one who has shown me the ropes both at home and at the office. The other two are perfectly polite and say all the right things, but I get the sense they’re watching me. Uncertain. Judging?

  By the time we finish a delicious dinner once again prepared by Meredith, I’m exhausted. Rather than join them in the media room as they offered to watch television, I excuse myself and return to my room. It’s almost nine o’clock anyway.

  I lock the door to my bathroom, strip out of my clothes, and sink into the luxurious tub. Everything I could possibly want surrounds me, making me wonder who stocks the supplies. Meredith? Someone else?

  The bathroom is large with heated tile floors that match the gray-and-white-swirled marble counters. The cabinets are gray. The shower is separate from this whirlpool tub.

  In any case, someone left an assortment of bubbles and loofahs and bath salts. When the water has covered my body, I turn on the jets and close my eyes. My hair is piled high on my head, so I lean back against the tub and try to relax.

  My brain won’t stop running over everything that has happened so far since my arrival yesterday afternoon. I’m both excited and rattled. Three men live here together. I have not seen them touch each other, so either they don’t want to make me uncomfortable by expressing their relationship in front of me, or they’re not actually gay.

  I’d give anything to ask about a dozen questions about their lives. I’ve seen no evidence that any of them have been married, especially since they’ve lived here for ten years. There are no pictures of any of them in the house or office that would indicate they have girlfriends.

  Besides Meredith and Randle, whom I know are married and have been here for years, I’ve seen two other employees outside. At least two gardeners seem to work full time pruning and trimming and taking care of the lawn. The house is immaculate, so either Meredith also cleans or someone must come a few times a week.

  I can’t fully relax. I don’t think I’ll be able to the entire summer. This house is filled with testosterone. It’s affecting my brain, making it difficult to concentrate, especially when I’m in a room with all three of them.

  I take several deep breaths, but the backs of my eyelids won’t stop the running reel of three very imposing men. I’m absurdly attracted to them. I also have a ridiculous lack of experience. With boys and certainly with men.

  Geraldine has always told me I was an old soul, and that was what kept me from being interested in boys my own age. I skipped the high school dating scene altogether, hanging instead with my girlfriends while attending an all-girls school.

  When I went to college, I had high hopes of falling for someone and starting a relationship, but it turned out eighteen-year-old men are also still boys. The last thing I wanted was to become a notch in someone’s bedpost. Sabine set me up a few times, but I never dated anyone twice, and she’s the only person who knows I’ve never been kissed.

  Ridiculous. Embarrassing, really, at this age. I’m about to leave for law school in a few months, and I’m not just a virgin, but I don’t even know the first thing about relationships. I’m lying in this bathtub visualizing what it might be like to be kissed by any one of the three men in this house. Men. Not boys. Far older than me, but they’re the first men I’ve ever given a second glance.

  I have no business thinking of them like this. I work for them. I’m just some little intern they’re indulging for the summer. There isn’t a chance in hell even one of them has thought of me as more than a college student for even a second. I’m twenty-two, I remind myself.

  Why do they have to be so damn attractive? Tall. Broad. Built. They aren’t even similar, and yet all three would be a catch for any woman alive. Again, why are they single?

  Julius’s face comes to mind. This is his home. I mean they all live here, but this is where he was raised. He’s not quite as serious or as quiet as Beck, but when he looks at me, I still feel like I’m being scrutinized. His brown eyes have held my gaze captive more than once. I’ve had to fight to keep from squirming when he looks at me.

  I take a deep breath, my nipples coming up out of the water, stiffening as the air in the room hits them. As I exhale, I slide my hands up to cup my breasts, squeezing them to chase away the arousal.

  I still haven’t been kissed, but I sure have been aroused more in the last day than I have in my life. I squeeze my boobs tighter, remembering the day I first discussed sex with Sabine.

  I met her freshman year of college. She was the first real girlfriend I had with whom I could even begin to consider talking about anything so intimate. The girls I hung out with in high school had giggled about boys over the years, but I’d felt too stupid to contribute, so I’d kept my mouth shut.

  Sabine was more open. When we met, she was also a virgin, but she had more experience than me—which wasn’t saying anything—and she quickly left me in the dust. She also dragged me to an adult store one time to get a vibrator, trying to encourage me to get one too.

  There wasn’t a chance in hell I would ever bring a vibrator into my house. I lived at home all four years. I didn’t have enough privacy to hide it anywhere. I couldn’t be sure the housekeeper wouldn’t find it when she organized my clothes. I would have been mortified if she’d come upon anything like that.

  My nipples grow tighter under my grip, making me bite my bottom lip. A restlessness also grows between my legs. I can hear Sabine in my head. “Girl, you need to at least familiarize yourself with your own body. How are you going to tell a man what you like and don’t like if you don’t know yourself?”

  I’ve considered those words over the years, but I’ve still never masturbated. I’ve lived in my grandfather’s house my entire life. I could have locked the door to my bedroom and touched myself, I suppose, but I just never wanted to take the risk of anyone hearing me or trying to come in. Hell, I have no idea if I’m the sort of person who makes noise when they come or not. I’m afraid to find out.

  I release my breasts and grip the side of the tub. Masturbating in this testosterone-filled house is also out of the question. Now is not the time to figure out what makes me tick. I really should get my own apartment soon. Then, I could give myself permission to explore. Maybe I’ll even buy a vibrator. Until then…I need to get out of this tub and go to bed.

  Chapter 8

  Abby

  By the following Monday, I’m feeling more comfortable. I have a routine. I know how the office runs, and I’m more familiar with the various jobs they take. I’ve learned their computer system and shadowed both Levi and Beck several times on in-house shoots and on-site. Saturday all three of us went to shoot a wedding. It was invigorating. I loved it.

  Today, Levi has made duplicates of everything we shot at the wedding and given me free rein to play around and see what I come up with. So, I’m editing. We took so much video that I will never run out of material to play with. I’ve done a lot of editing in my life, but not professionally, and not with this software. It’s far more advanced than anything I’ve ever used.

  I’ve been working for hours, stopping only for lunch, when I click on the next file in the folder, confused because it has a different file name and doesn’t seem to go with the others. Maybe it didn’t get named right or perhaps it got in the wrong folder. Either way, I decide to check before asking anyone, so I’m waiting for it to upload.

  When the file finally opens, I gasp. This is most definitely not from the wedding. The people in the
video are not the bride and groom. They also aren’t wearing wedding attire.

  In fact, the woman is naked.

  I’m frozen, unable to blink or move. My hand is shaking on the mouse as I watch a man in nothing but jeans circle around a naked woman who is on her knees on a pillow in the middle of a room I’ve never seen. Her thighs are spread wide. Her breasts are high, nipples stiff. Her smooth black hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She’s shivering. I can’t see much of the man. The camera is focused on the woman, zoomed in so that all I see of the man is his torso. His damn fine torso.

  I need to look away. I need to close this file. I can do neither. For several seconds, I watch as the man strokes a finger down the woman’s shoulder and then flicks it over her breast. Her skin is a gorgeous olive color, her nipples dark. She’s petite. She whimpers, her shoulders pulling back farther.

  I’m jarred back into my body when she makes that sound, and I immediately close the file, jerking my head around to make sure I’m still alone in the room. I tug my earbuds out, breathing heavily.

  I glance at the screen again, my face heated, hands shaking. The file is still there, right in the middle of a dozen others. I stare at it, wondering where it came from, feeling like I imagined it. I click on the file next to it, assuring myself it is indeed the one I just edited. I close that one and click on the file after. It’s also from the wedding. The cake-cutting portion of the evening.

  I close that one and the oddly named file is still there. I hover over it. Half of me wants to make sure I haven’t imagined it. Half of me wants to see more. Curious.

  Glancing over my shoulder again, I slide my earbuds back in and click on it. It continues where I left off, the man cupping the woman’s breast and then suddenly pinching her nipple. She cries out but doesn’t break her form.

 

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