Finding Submission (Service & Submission Book 1) (26 page)

Preston was the first to speak. “Well, I don’t think I’d go that far. She was a little sassy and defiant in the beginning, but with the right incentive she became an excellent worker and very responsible. And I may add an excellent cook too.”

The Judge blinked and appeared speechless. “Did you say
cooking?
My Avery is cooking? And responsible? I mean she’s always been a good girl, but—“

“Well, she’s changed a lot, Sir.” You’d be amazed to see her at work.” Preston felt a blush rise on his neck and cheeks. “He turned to look at Avery. I’ve been a very lucky man to have her at my house, and to be perfectly honest… I’ve fallen in love with her, Judge.”

Avery beamed at Preston, squeezing his hand. “Daddy, I love him. We’re really happy and I like being with him.”

Judge Beauchamp glanced at Judge Morton. “Well, looks like we weren’t too far off base when we put her in his house, were we?”

Judge Morton put his hands up, staying the retorts on Avery and Preston’s lips.

“Wait! Whoa. Let me talk. Judge Beauchamp and I
had
talked that night, and we knew that Avery needed to be in a situation where she couldn’t manipulate and cajole someone as she’d done in the past.” He dipped his chin and looked at Avery.

She dropped her gaze, a pretty pink blush blooming on her cheeks.

Morton continued. “And we knew that Preston had the stern, disciplinarian personality that would push Avery to become responsible. We also knew that he was looking for a submissive relationship — and that Avery might be just what he was looking for.”

Preston was shocked, unsure what to say. Finally, he cleared his throat, nodding at each man in turn.

“Well, let me first say thank you to both of you gentlemen. I haven’t been this happy in years. I love your daughter, Judge. Thank you for having confidence in my abilities and trusting me with Miss Avery Rose.” He shook both of the judges’ hands then. “We have to go and get ready for Santa. We’ll see you two after dinner, gentlemen.”

Then Preston and Avery left to get ready for the children.

* * *

Avery was tired of standing, her feet hurt and she was sweaty from helping kids climb on and off Preston’s lap. It was talking longer than normal, because Preston was talking to each child, making them feel like they were the only child to sit on Santa’s lap. Watching him with each child was touching — he had tenderness and an ability to understand each child’s needs and desires. He would make such a wonderful father.

What’s gotten into you, Avery? He never said anything about marriage or children!

They were down to the last child and he was just putting the little girl on the floor, urging her get her candy cane from Avery. She handed it to the little girl and sent her back to her parents with a smile and a quick wave.

Avery heard chuckling and turned to see Santa crooking his finger at her and patting his lap. She looked around, the heat of her blush rising on her face. She shook her head, pointedly avoiding his gaze, hoping he’d take the hint. This wasn’t the time for this.

When she finally looked back at Preston, he wagged his finger at her and wrapped his hand around the big Santa buckle on his belly. Her bottom clenched automatically. Whether or not it was the appropriate time for this, she wasn’t about to do anything to get herself spanked with that belt.

“C’mere and see Santa, little girl.”

She shuffled her way over to him, amidst the giggling in the crowd from adults and children. When she got there he pulled her onto his lap, affectionately patting her bottom. “Tell Santa what you want for Christmas this year.”

She furrowed her eyebrows at him. “Uh, I think I’ll have everything I need for Christmas this year if I’m at your house.”

He smiled back at her from behind his white beard and fake bushy eyebrows. “Are you going to ask me what I want for Christmas?”

She blinked. “You’re Santa, no one asks you what you want for Christmas.”

Laughter from the gathered parents erupted at that response.

“I know! Imagine how sad that makes me.” Preston looked around at the children. “Wouldn’t that make you feel sad? Do you think she should ask me what I want for Christmas?”

The children started cheering and chanting: “Ask Santa! Ask Santa! Ask Santa!”

“Okay, okay,” Avery said, rolling her eyes. “What do
you
want for Christmas, Santa?”

Santa leaned in and whispered, “If you roll your eyes at me again, you’re going to get spanked with Santa’s belt. Understood?”

Avery nodded, her blush flaring hotter.

“Well, I think I’d like to ask you a question,” Santa said loudly. “Oh wait, something’s poking me here. Hold on.” Preston reached into his red fur coat, pulling out a little box. He opened it, his deep blue eyes bright. “Would you marry me, Miss Avery Rose? Please say you’ll be mine for Christmas!”

The crowd erupted in cheers and clapping, and Avery smiled back at Preston, tears streaming down her face.

“Yes. Yes, Santa. I’ll marry you!”

* * *

After receiving a spanking from Santa’s belt as she had hoped for, Avery sat gingerly on the couch and curled into Preston’s side as he tucked a blanket around them. The glow of the fire and the Christmas tree along with Nat King Cole on the iPod player made the evening perfect. Avery held her hand up, letting the light from the fireplace pass through the diamond.

“Look how it sparkles, Preston! It’s beautiful. You really surprised me today. I want you to know, I’m not usually this easily surprised.”

“It seems to me, I’ve been surprising you since the day you came to this house.” He pulled her chin up with his hand and lightly kissed her lips. “Between the playroom, the cameras, kitty play, and your engagement, it seems I’m going to have my work cut out for me keeping you surprised for the next fifty years.”

“And maybe I’ll be the one to surprise the shit out of you for the next fifty years, Mr. Preston!” Avery’s eyebrows rose and she waggled them at him, her eyes brightening with mischief. “Let me remind you, I’ve kept you on your toes too, Sir.

“That you have. But I also have a cure for your mischief and misbehavior. Keep it in mind.” He affectionately patted her bottom, pulling her in closer. “So, let me ask you soon-to-be Mrs. Preston Harrison, what do you think of a Valentine’s Day wedding? I really don’t want to wait too long to make you mine.”

“I’m already yours, Mr. Preston Harrison. I was yours the first time I rode in your car. When you covered me with your suit coat to keep me from being cold, and then informed me that French fries were never allowed in your car.”

She ran her forefinger over his lips before kissing them.

“I would love a Valentine’s Day wedding.”

The End

# # #

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Other Books By Megan Michaels

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