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He didn’t need them.
He just wanted them.
Turning off the faucets and grabbing a large, thirsty towel, he dried off and grinned as he thought about the cute spoiled girl who had just sprinkled his morning with an unexpected ray of sparkling sunshine.
Then his attention turned back to Tia Goldman.
He’d only been coaching her a short time. A few more lessons and he’d end up spanking her like all the others.
Didn’t he always?
STEPHANIE AND STEWART
STEPHANIE SIGHED ASshe watched the car snake silently down the long driveway into the early morning fog. It was already burning off, and the Southern California sun would soon peer down on the estate making the day another perfect one.
From her second-story bedroom window she had a panoramic view of the front of the estate. As the car disappeared, she glanced at the clock. 6 AM. Once again Stewart was on his way before she’d barely woken up. Business meetings, constant and seemingly endless, had driven her past the point of despair.
They had been so happy when they were first married.
Her crush on Stewart had begun the instant she had seen him run onto the football field. He was the quarterback for UCLA. When she met him at a party at her sorority house, she’d blushed beet red, and was thrilled when he asked her out. She had spent the entire following day in a mad whirlwind, creating a stunning turquoise silk dress that clung invitingly to her curves. When he arrived to pick her up, she floated down the staircase feeling like Scarlet O’Hara.
Just over six feet with dirty blond hair no brush could tame, and a surfer’s body, Stewart was born into money. His mother had been a famous actress, and his father owned BAM—Baxter Artists Management. His clients were some of the most highly paid, sought-after celebrities in the world. Stewart admired him immensely, and was determined to make him proud.
When he’d met Stephanie Miller she’d completely wowed him. With dark auburn hair that fell to her shoulders, and her eyes were a blue/green so clear, they sometimes looked aqua, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
It had taken her a while to surrender her V card, but once the line had been crossed, they were alone together as much as time and circumstances allowed. She craved the feel of him inside her, and how he would bring her to the edge of an orgasm over and over again before sending her into the explosive, sparkling spasms.
At the end of the summer during their senior year, Stewart’s parents invited her to stay at their Malibu estate for two weeks. She’d been visiting her family in the Midwest, and Stewart met her at the airport.
When they climbed into the waiting limousine, a privacy screen hid them from the driver, and Stewart roamed his hands across her breasts, then pinched her nipples. Letting out a moan of pleasure, she wrapped her fingers around his hardness. When the car turned off Pacific Coast Highway and drove through towering iron gates, neither of them could believe they’d been on the road for over forty-five minutes.
It was Stephanie’s first visit to the Baxter estate. Though she knew they were wealthy, she was in awe as the car rolled to a stop outside a magnificent home sitting on a private bluff overlooking the Pacific.
Walking up the steps and through the door held open by a uniformed butler, she caught her breath a second time. A wide, ornate staircase curled majestically upward, and at the end of a wide passageway in front of her, she could see the ocean through huge, domed windows. She’d barely taken it all in when he led her into a large, but comfortable library, filled with antiques, overstuffed chairs and couches.
“What do you think?” he asked, closing the large oak door behind them.
