Free Dirty Ugly Toy by K Webster Page B

a spin,” he teases. “You’re the prettiest toy Mr. Kennedy’s ever bought.”
    I nod my thanks as he escorts me to the office next door, silently swallowing down my discomfort at having been reminded I’m only Brax’s toy . He’s about to knock when the door swings open and a tall, black man gapes at me.
    Dubois.
    Eat your fucking heart out.
    “Hello, miss,” he says quietly as he quickly surveys my appearance. His eyes stray over to Cartier’s briefly and with one gaze he thanks him for his hard work before turning his attention back to me. “You look lovely.”
    I smile at him and this time it does touch my eyes. “My, you’re quite the gentleman,” I tease with the southern drawl he loves so much.
    He scowls and storms away from me.
    “You’re trouble, honey. Act right because I don’t want all my work going to waste. He’ll ruin all of this,” Cartier says as he waves at my outfit with a hiss, “in one second. Be nice and behave.”
    I roll my eyes at him but nod that I will. Cartier worked all day on making me pretty. I don’t want Brax to have a repeat from last night and strip me out of the gorgeous clothes. Or worse yet, to make me cry and ruin all of my makeup.
    “May we come in, sir?”
    “Just her. Thank you, Cart,” Brax bellows from inside the office.
    Cartier gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek before striding away. I gulp in a lungful of air before stepping into the office. My eyes sweep over the room and I’m instantly in love with it. No surprise there. Every single room aside from the one I have to sleep in is breathtaking. This one is floor to ceiling dark woods. Books line the shelves and his massive desk that sits in front of the wall of windows is adorned with expensive technology. In his suit, behind the gigantic desk, looking gorgeous as ever, his stature screams power and money.
    His eyes are focused on the screen in front of him and his brows are pinched together in frustration. I can tell he’s tense and stressed about whatever it is he’s working on. If I actually liked the guy, I’d give him a shoulder rub to ease the tension there.
    But I don’t like him.
    And I’ll do the bare minimum to get me paid.
    He ignores my entry as he continues his work, so I take the free moment to inspect his framed achievements on the wall.
    RK Enterprises.
    Fortune 500 Company.
    News articles about Brax being one of the top forty under forty successful people in the United States. Pictures of him shaking hands with celebrities and other wealthy, well-known businessmen. College degrees and other framed awards line the walls.
    Success, success, success.
    “What do you do?” I blurt out.
    I turn my attention back to him. He’s still glaring at the screen. “I do lots of things, Bunny. What don’t I do?”
    “Wise guy,” I grumble. “What is RK Enterprises?”
    In a bored tone, as if he’s explaining to a boardroom full of investors, he rattles off what seems rehearsed as he types away on his computer. “RK Enterprises was founded sixteen years ago after I graduated from college with a degree in finance. I’d taken over a successful brick and mortar toy company owned by my father, based in Los Angeles but it was a sinking ship. I analyzed the company’s profits and losses, researched the market, and helped his dying company evolve into a more sustainable corporation. RK Enterprises launched Kennedy Toys, a subsidiary, a few years ago to which parents and educators all over the globe can customize their toys for their children via our user-friendly web-platform.”
    “So you’re rich from making toys. You’re like the mean, sexier version of Santa Claus.”
    He chuckles at my summation of him, never turning my direction. “RK Enterprises and Kennedy Toys only make up thirteen percent of my earnings. The other eighty-seven percent belongs to Fet Toy Luxe. FTL is a booming web enterprise that joins people with similar sexual tastes. Fet ‘Toys’ can advertise their services