Mastering Inga (Service & Submission Book 2) (4 page)

Inga showered and dressed for her first day at the Anderson’s household and went to the kitchen to greet her new family.

Standing at the stove in his jeans with a tight black t-shirt, Garrett was scraping a pan. Next him on the counter was a plate mounded with a large stack of pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse. He glanced at her as she entered the kitchen, then nodded to the children.

“Look who’s up, everyone. Miss Inga’s here. Good morning, Miss Inga.”

“Hello, Garrett,” she said, smiling at him. She turned to the kids. “And look at Madalyn in her pretty red dress. You look like a perfect little lady today, Missy Madalyn. Good morning to you too, little man. Dressed in your little coveralls! Are you ready for some construction today, big boy?” She tickled his belly while he sat quietly in his high chair.

“I can finish those pancakes for you.” She walked over reaching out to take the spatula from his hand. “Then you can finish getting ready for work.”

Garrett pulled his arm away from her, keeping the spatula out of her reach. “I got this. I like cooking breakfast for them. If you’re a good girl, I’ll make some pancakes for you too.” He winked at her, pointing with the spatula toward the refrigerator. “If you don’t mind, grab the apple juice and take a seat. They’re almost done.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grabbing the juice she poured some into the waiting sippy cups of the children, and filled glasses for herself and Garrett.

Then she talked with Madalyn about their plans for the day, and what they would do outside while waiting for breakfast.

* * *

A
fter breakfast the dishes were put in the sink, the syrup washed off both kids before they were sent to play in the playroom. When they’d put the last of the food away, Garrett leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest.

“I think we need to discuss some of the basic rules, and how I like things run around here. I’m sure you’re thinking after looking around that I don’t have many rules — but nothing could be further from the truth. Since Anne has died, the house has deteriorated in many different ways. She kept the house running like a well-oiled machine. I may have been the head of this household, but she was the organizer, and I desperately want that back. Desperately.”

“I’m so sorry. It has to be so difficult to lose someone you rely on so much. I’ll do my best to meet your needs. I sympathize with your loss.”

Garrett cleared his throat, finding it so difficult to share these particular feelings with a stranger. His grief wasn’t the only reason he was reticent to discuss Anne though. He worried that talking about Anne might hurt Inga’s feelings, somehow. But
not
talking about Anne, seemed to be disloyal to his deceased wife. The conflict over these feelings confused him.

“My office hours are nine in the morning until five in the evening. As Annie used to say, I’m used to giving orders all day — whether it’s to secretaries or nurses — and I guess I don’t shut it off once I’m home.” He smiled at her and shrugged. “So, you’ve been forewarned.”

He didn’t know what else to do as far as that was concerned. He gave orders. As a Master, it’s who he was. He refused to apologize for it, and he definitely couldn’t shut it off. He’d been this way since he hit puberty.

“Yes, Sir.”

There it was again. God he loved the sound of that foreign accent saying those two little words, his cock coming almost instantly to attention. Having heard “Master” for years, hearing ‘Sir’ had a certain ring to it, a nice change.

He could get used to hearing her say those words.

“Regardless of how the house looks today. I like it to be clean and orderly.”

“But, Sir. As I—”

Garrett put a hand up. “Yes, I know. As you stated yesterday, children make messes. I understand children play and make messes, and I enjoy this about my children. I love to watch them play, just as most parents do. However, I expect you to keep those messes contained. Either contain the messes to the playroom, or to the kitchen for crafts or whatever it is you’ll be doing with them. I don’t want to come home to a house filled with toys strewn all over every room. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s very clear. But I
will not
guarantee that I can keep the house completely free of toys. Children need to be creative and need to feel that home is the place where they are the
most
carefree with their creativity. I’m not someone who’ll rein them in just to appease the adult in the room.”

Garrett put down the dish towel he used for drying the dishes, and stalked her way. “Madam, we’re definitely having a discussion about this. I did
not
say I want you to curb their creativity. I’ll be sending them to Montessori school so that they’ll be able to channel that creativity, and learn how to utilize it in their everyday lives. However, as I stated previously, I will
not
have my house looking like a toy room. There’s a large playroom in this house and that’s where the toys are meant to be.” Garrett moved into her personal space, his nose almost touching hers as he continued. “As for ‘appeasing the adult in the room,’ since I’m the only adult in this room that requires appeasement, it’ll be one of the rules that should be adhered to. You should never doubt for one second that I’m to be appeased at all times. Is that clear enough for you, Miss Inga?”

Lips pursed and jaw tight, she raised her chin in defiance. Her breathing had quickened, the swells of her breasts rising and falling rapidly.

It appeared he’d angered her.

His curiosity piqued, he watched her closely, gauging her response. If she decided to defy him at this point, he wasn’t sure how he’d respond. She came with excellent references, and he felt she would be an asset to his household. But she needed to know from the start that he expected her to meet his needs.

Completely.

“Yes, Siiiiiir,” she said, walking over to the table and sitting down. Anger seethed in her eyes. Garrett maintained eye contact with her until, finally, her gaze slid away. She brushed the tablecloth with both hands, her frustration evident.

“Do we need to discuss this issue further, Miss?” Garrett raised his eyebrows waiting for her answer.

“No, Sir. Please continue.”

He detected an attitude, but would let it slide —
for now
.

“I’ll cook breakfast most mornings. I enjoy cooking for the kids, and it’s our time together. If you’re up, I’d love to have you join us.”

She nodded.

“I expect dinner to be on the table no later than six in the evening. I expect healthy, natural, organic and delectable meals. Processed foods are to be kept to a minimum.”

“I have several certifications and classes on food preparation and healthy eating, Sir. I’m well-versed on how to prepare and cook meals for a family.” She started her dissertation strong, making good eye contact, but by the end of the sentence she was staring at the tablecloth again.

“Miss”—he paused, waiting for her to make eye contact — which never occurred—“Miss Inga, when I say your name, I expect you to look at me unless I’ve instructed you otherwise. Look at me.”

Her demeanor changed instantly. She became passive, submissive even. A pretty blush rose on her cheeks, and she peered at him through her long lashes. “I’m sorry, Sir. That was uncalled for and impertinent.”

“Thank you. Apology accepted. That definitely
was
impertinent. I trust you’ll be more aware of what you say and watch your tongue.” He dipped his chin to emphasize his point.

“Yes. I will, Sir. Again, I’m sorry.”

She truly looked repentant.

Interesting.

Miss Inga had some definite submissive tendencies. If becoming firm with a dash of humiliation brought about this response, keeping order in his household might be a lot easier than he’d feared.

“You’re forgiven. Let’s continue.” He continued to dry the dishes and put them away. “I like to care for my children when I’m home. So unless I’m called into the hospital or have prior engagements, your evenings are free to do as you wish. However, I prefer that you keep yourself available by phone or house intercom in case I’m called in. The children take a nap in the afternoon and are in bed at night by eight. It’s imperative that they have physical exercise twice a day to keep their energy levels sane. In addition, we like — I like--them to have a nap every day so that they’re able to stay up a little later. I enjoy our playtime in the evening. Do you understand? Are there any questions?”

“Again, Sir. I have been a nanny for many years. I’m aware of the needs and requirements of children. And I—”

“Inga, excuse me for interrupting.” Garrett raised a hand. “Yes, you’re aware of, and trained in, the needs of children. But you aren’t aware of the needs of
my
children. As their father, caretaker, provider, and protector, I see it as my duty to make those that care for them aware of both my expectations and the childrens’ individual needs. I take care of those that are
mine
, and I want others to understand how seriously I view their well-being. Let me ask you Inga, have I conveyed sufficiently the depth of my expectations up to this point?”

“Yes, Sir. I believe you have. I assure you that I’ll make your children my priority. Further, I’ll promise you that if I’m unclear on an expectation, I will contact you for clarification. Will that ease your concerns until the transition is over and a pattern of care has been established?” Her eyes became glassy with tears. “I want you to feel that your children are safe. I’ll do whatever I can to appease you and allay your fears. Tell me how I can help you feel better about this.”

Garrett looked at her, realizing that his concerns about the children seemed to revolve around one emotion.

Fear.

What would I do if I lost the children too?

Garrett felt the tears burning his eyes. “I feel that… I need to apologize.” He reached out, touching her arm — but quickly pulled his hand back. “I need to trust you. You’re right. You’re trained and experienced. I’m sure you’ll be better at this in a week than I’ve been for the past eight months. I just… love them so much. I tend to be very protective. Anne used to say I was overbearing.” He chuckled, remembering how he’d swatted his wife’s bottom — hard--for that declaration. “I guess she was right. I’ll back off — a little.”

It was Inga’s turn to reach for him, her delicate fingers stroking his arm, making his cock jerk in response.

You’re an asshole. How can you allow yourself to be attracted to this woman? She’s a stranger — and your kids’ Nanny, for Christ’s sake.

“You aren’t overbearing,” Inga said, her voice as soft as her touch. “You’re a good father. Devoted, caring and diligent. Those are all good traits. Your family is very fortunate — such attentiveness is something most women would covet. I’m jealous of the women blessed with loyal and dedicated husbands and fathers.”

There was that fetching blush again. It accentuated her beautiful blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. She had a very wholesome, yet elegant European look. Unable to keep his eyes from her cleavage any longer, he unabashedly stared. She was buxom for sure, and he had no difficulty picturing his cock tucked between those lush pillows.

Focus, Garrett!

“Sir, trust me to take care of your children to the best of my ability. I won’t let you down. I promise. It’s my goal to meet the needs of all of you. I’ll utilize the skills I’ve acquired to serve you. Tell me what I can do to serve you better, Sir.”

It was now his turn to blush.

Tell me what I can do to serve you better, Sir.

Was it his imagination, or did that sound… submissive? His imagination was obviously playing tricks on him. Apparently, it had been too long since he’d had sex. The woman was gorgeous, that was undeniable, but now he was trying to convince himself that she was submissive?

“You can take care of my children to the best of your ability. Contact me with any questions. And, I guess… cut me some slack if I’m overbearing.” He winked at her, giving her his winningest smile. “I’ll do my best to not give
too
many orders.”

“We’ll have a great day, Sir. You go to the office and we’ll start playing.”

Inga turned on her heel and walked gracefully down the hall toward the playroom.

Chapter Four

I
nga walked into the playroom to find the children playing with the dollhouse. She sat down with them, quietly at first, allowing them to watch her and get comfortable with her presence. She noticed that the mommy figurine wasn’t inside the dollhouse, but instead sat on a chair outside the house. On a hunch, she picked up the mommy, and put her in the bedroom with the daddy figurine, putting them in the bed together.

“No! She doesn’t belong in the house!” Madalyn grabbed the mommy figurine, and tossed her onto the toy room floor. “Mommy isn’t here anymore. Daddy sleeps alone.”

“I’m sorry, Madalyn. You’re right. Daddy sleeps alone.” She stroked Madalyn’s hair lightly and quietly waited for her to offer more information when she was ready.