Finding Submission (Service & Submission Book 1) (4 page)

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Authors: Megan Michaels

Tags: #Contempory D/s Erotic Romance

BOOK: Finding Submission (Service & Submission Book 1)
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Judge Morton leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Well, we talked to your Daddy about this. We’ve come up with an alternative that we all feel will be in your best interest.”

Avery stared at Judge Morton, then turned and looked at Preston. Avery had a sinking feeling these men had decided something that would be distinctly not to her liking.

Preston cleared his throat, glancing at Judge Morton before turning in his chair to speak to Avery. “We’ve decided that you should work off your fine. Since your fine is eight thousand dollars, that would mean about six months of labor. Logically it would make sense to use the skill set you’ve come to us with — which currently is housecleaning.”

Avery was shocked. They were going to use her housecleaning skills to pay off her fine? Is that where this was going?

“I recently purchased a historic home and the elderly couple who owned it before me neglected cleaning some of the rooms and buildings on the property. I desperately need a housecleaner organizing and categorizing some of the articles in those rooms and outbuildings. As part of your punishment for the crimes you’ve committed, you’d live at my house for six months — with your own room, of course — and work off your fine by cleaning and organizing my house.”

This was just too unreal — she wasn’t meant to do menial labor like this. What in the world was her father thinking?

“Wait… so I would be, what, a maid at your house? Sounds more like an indentured servant.”

“No, not a servant. You’d be cleaning my house and the pay you would normally receive would go to the County, paying down the eight thousand dollar fine you owe. And, for the record, indentured servants typically received passage from Europe to America and would pay off their passage by serving in someone’s house upon arrival. That is
not
the case here.”

“This is bullshit! Are ya kidding me?” Avery stood up again. “I’m not going to be your fucking servant, indentured or not!”

“Sit. Down. I’ll not say it again. Part of being a responsible adult is having control of your actions and your tongue. You, young lady, appear to have a problem with both.” Preston by this point was standing, pointing at her chair. “If I were you, I’d sit on my bottom before I make sitting a distant memory.”

Avery felt her ass hit the chair before she even realized she had bent at the waist. She had funny butterflies in her belly, and decided to take a deep breath and listen.

A smirk played on Judge Morton’s lips, the man obviously enjoying the interaction between Avery and Preston.

Preston stared at Avery as he pulled on his suit coat, adjusting his sleeves. Then he sat down, crossing his right leg over his knee. “As I was saying. You’ll be paid for your services, thus you
will not
be a servant.” His eyebrows furrowed, and he paused to stress the point. “However, you won’t see this pay, because it’ll be sent directly to the County to pay your fine. The fine
you
incurred with your impetuous and impulsive behavior. Until your fine is paid, you’ll be required to stay at my house. You’ll not be able to drive or leave the premises unless you’re in my presence.”

Avery blinked at both the men. “Wait. I can’t drive my car or leave your property? So, I
am
a prisoner being held hostage at your house?”

Preston closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “No. That’s
not
what I said. If we’re going to get along, missy, you’ll have to work on your listening skills. I said until your fine is paid, you can’t leave the premises, unless you’re escorted by me. We can’t take the risk that you’ll run or leave town.”

“Why? What would be the big deal if I left town or went somewhere?”

“You’re a criminal. You’ve been arrested for a crime and until your fine is complete, you’re still charged with a crime. If you renege on this agreement — by driving out of town for instance — you’ll then be convicted of said crime.” Preston raised an eyebrow at her, tilting his head. “Is that clear?”

Avery was stunned. This… couldn’t be.

“So, I have to stay at your house, cleaning all day, organizing your shit
and
forfeiting my freedom so you can get what you need out of this arrangement?”

“Language. You’re still in the Judge’s chambers; mind your tongue and your manners, Miss Beauchamp.” Preston nodded at the Judge who stared sternly at Avery. Then the handsome lawyer continued “This isn’t
my
arrangement. This will be
our
arrangement once you’ve agreed to it — and let me add, you don’t have to agree. However, if you don’t agree to work at my house, you’ll have to serve in a soup kitchen or homeless shelter until the fine is paid. The choice is completely yours. And any freedoms that are curtailed by this arrangement are your doing, young lady, not mine. The poor choices you made have caused the repercussions you’ll feel for the next six months. Every action has a reaction. I’m sure your father reinforced this with you as a child.”

Avery had indeed heard this statement more than a few times in her lifetime, but she shrugged her shoulders at Preston, not willing to admit it to him. Avery didn’t like the prospect of being stuck at this man’s house with nothing to do but clean. But again, he was an attorney and her father agreed, which means he must have checked out. Her father wouldn’t put her in someone’s house without doing a background check. And chances were good, if she didn’t cause any trouble, that after a few days she would be able to do what she wanted and manipulate the situation. It would only be a matter of time before she would be watching
Pretty Little Liars
all day on Netflix. At least Preston was easy on the eyes; it wouldn’t be too hard to be stuck with him for six months. She might even have some fun trying to seduce him. Avery wondered if he had a girlfriend — there was no ring, so he wasn’t married.

“So, Miss Avery, are you agreeing to the terms? Are you staying at my house, cleaning and organizing and obeying the simple rules that’ll be required of a civil guest in my happy abode?” Preston smiled her way, showing a glimmer of humor.

“I’ll agree. If I have any questions or concerns, I want to be able to call my father. Is that going to be allowed?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Your father said he’ll keep in touch and I told him that you’ll call at least once a week or more, the first couple weeks. I think it’ll make the transition easier for him and for you.” Preston then handed her some documents and a pen. “We’ll have you sign some legal papers agreeing to the rules and signing that your pay will be forwarded to the County for the six month period ending December 29th, 2014. Your father said he’ll cover the rent for your apartment while you’re at my house. You have a very generous father. I hope you treat him well for all the graciousness he’s shown you.”

Avery knew better than to answer that question, she could feel a lecture coming on and the last thing she needed was a lecture. What she really needed was a shower!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Preston helped Avery into his Mercedes. “Buckle up, please.”

Avery rolled her eyes, but she didn’t fight it. Buckling in, she looked around his vehicle. “Has a French fry ever been in this vehicle?”

“No.” He looked at her, shocked. He never allowed food in his vehicle. “Food belongs at a table with appropriate utensils. Not in a vehicle — and that includes drinks.”

He quirked an eyebrow at Avery. She was a little too carefree for him. He was pretty sure she would destroy a vehicle, if given time.

“God, you’re like an old woman, aren’t you? Well, that should be good news for me. That means your house won’t have clutter.”

Before he put the car into gear he turned and stared at her, making sure he didn’t break his stare until she looked away — then, and only then, they started their thirty minute ride to Old Hickory.

He loved his new town. The town was named after President Andrew Jackson, a.k.a. “Old Hickory” and it was filled with history — quaint, quiet and friendly. Preston’s homestead was just far enough from town that he didn’t have to deal with the gossip, but close enough that he could get groceries or supplies without packing a lunch.

“No, I don’t like clutter, Avery. But, I think you’ll be surprised when you see the house — it’s pretty dirty. I definitely need the help of a maid.” Preston paused looking at her and smiling. “I’ll really appreciate all your help cleaning the house, as well as it being a consequence for your actions last night. The elderly couple that had this house before were ill the last couple years of their lives and were unable to clean. The house is filled with antiques, old books, pictures, and tools. What I would like to do is to organize these items and have an estate sale.”

While he was stopped at a stop sign, he adjusted the air conditioner. “Are you comfortable, Avery? Do you need me to make it warmer? Colder?”

“I’m a little cold, if you could turn it up, please.” Avery rubbed her hands over her arms briskly.

Preston reached behind him and pulled his suit coat out of the back seat. “Here put this over yourself until you warm up.”

“No. I’ll get it dirty. I haven’t had a shower and, you know, I was in jail and all.” She tried pushing the suit coat back at him.

“Stop that. You’re fine. I’m more worried about you getting a chill. It’s a half hour ride; and you can’t be cold for that long. Put the coat on, Avery. Please. I promise you, I’m not going to hurt you — well, not in a way that matters. You’ll be safe at my house.”

He thrust the coat back at her.

‘Not in a way that matters’. What does he mean by that?

* * *

 

They had light conversation most of the way to his house. Avery watched him quietly as he drove, talking the whole time. When he spoke about the arrangement or the hot water she’d gotten herself into, his jaw firmed, the cadence of his deep voice deliberate, even somber. But when discussing his family, sports or movies, he was funny and talkative. He laughed easily and had a great sense of humor. He had gorgeous eyes — the color of deep blue sky — and with that black hair, it was just stunning.

“So, have you been married before, Preston?”

He appeared shocked by her question. His head jerked, and he looked at her, as if calculating her motives. Looking back at the road, his eyes narrowed. “No. I haven’t. I almost got engaged in college, but realized that my career needed to be my focus at that time in my life.”

Avery nodded. “And now? You don’t see your career as the focus of your life?”

“No, my career isn’t the focus of my life completely. I mean, I’m single and don’t’ have a wife or kids — or for that matter even a dog — so I spend a lot of time at work. But I don’t think it’s the focus of my life like it was when I was in my twenties. If I was to have a serious relationship or get a wife, I would make changes to my life. You know, reorder my priorities. I’d change things up a little. Just getting this house has changed some of my priorities.”

“Why’d you choose an old house? I mean even I know they require a lot of time and work. Your job must take a lot of time, so why would you add to your responsibilities?”

“Well, I like old houses. I like the charm, the fancy woodworking. I like opening a door and feeling the weight of it. When I look around the house and outbuildings I think about all the families that have lived there before me. I find myself wondering about their lives and children, the relationships that occurred before me. I’m kind of nostalgic like that.” Preston shrugged, glancing at Avery before continuing. “I could’ve purchased something new with no upkeep, but then I wouldn’t have the satisfaction of a weekend of fixing, say, the steps up to the front door. I love spending all day building something and then when it’s all done, having a beer and looking at it. You know? There’s a feeling of… I did that. I made those steps.”

“I hate that. I want to just have a house where there are no projects or work involved. I hate working on something senseless all day long.”

Avery shook her head at Preston, totally confused by him. Why would anyone want to work on steps to a front porch all weekend? It made no sense to her.

“So, I take it you’ve never completed a project on your own? Like painting your bedroom? Building a tree house? Putting together a piece of furniture on your own?”

Avery looked at him like he was crazy. “No. That’s why you hire people. I don’t think
anyone
at my house has ever painted. At least not that I’ve seen. And I’ve never built, or even
had
a tree house. Daddy was always too busy with work and campaigning to care about kid stuff. Nannies handled anything to do with children.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, giving her a sidelong look. “I’m sorry to hear that, Avery. All that’s about to change, though. You’ll have a lot of projects in the next six months that’ll be done all by yourself. You’ll finally get to see and feel the satisfaction that comes from a hard day’s work.”

* * *

 

Both sides of the driveway were lined with huge, ancient hickory trees, a soaring canopy of massive branches shading the path to the house. They had beautiful delicate yellow flowers that showered their short ride to the house with the soft petals. At the end of the drive was a gorgeous southern mansion. Avery couldn’t believe how large and impressive the mansion was. The porch was deep and welcoming, with tables and chairs, rocking chairs, and ceiling fans to cool the occupants off on a hot summer’s day.

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