Daddy’s Dirty Boss

by West, Jade

  I just wanted so much more. Needed so much more.

  “Thank you for teaching me,” I said, and it came out more like a whisper.

  That seemed to do something at least. He started a little in his seat, tensing up and pretending it was all about changing lanes, but it wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t. I could feel it.

  “You’re welcome, Faith,” he said back, and his voice was lower this time.

  I loved him saying my name. I wished I could ask him to say it again. Over and over.

  It took everything I had to find the confidence to turn my head to face him. His profile was striking, his jaw so hard and firm. The shadow of stubble was brooding and hot and begging for my fingers to brush against the bristle.

  Mr Lindon was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

  He must have felt my stare, but didn’t shoot even the slightest look back in my direction.

  “Brayburn’s should be a good outing for you,” he said, and his tone was flat again.

  Fighting it.

  Fighting us.

  “I hope so,” I said back. “I’ve been excited.”

  I made sure to linger on excited. Because I had been excited about it. Really excited about it.

  Excited about him more than anything.

  He swallowed. He actually swallowed, and his attempt to play it mundane was lost in that one tiny moment.

  I daren’t believe it, but I had to. I believed it because it was real. I could feel it.

  He wanted me.

  He really did want me.

  “I’ve been so excited about doing this for years,” I said, and couldn’t stop. “I’ve been excited about the antiques. I’ve been excited about the auctions.” I paused, trying my best to push myself. “I’ve been excited about you, Mr Lindon. About working with you.”

  Another swallow from him and I couldn’t stand the flutter anymore. It was right through me, and I was burning up, even though it was stupid and I was an idiot who should know it would never go anywhere. How could it?

  But it did. It really did.

  “I love how excited you get, Faith,” he said. “It’s a delight to watch.”

  I’m sure my cheeks were bright pink. I’m sure it must have been peeking through my foundation.

  And that’s when I got the first real sight of him, the dirty Mr Lindon I’d been dreaming of.

  “Good little girls get excited about learning their lessons, Faith,” he said, and his tone wasn’t flat anymore. It was alive, alive and deep and dirty.

  “I am excited about learning my lessons from you, Mr Lindon, sir,” I said, and it was a whisper. Just a dirty, filthy whisper.

  A whisper that did something.

  He’d just turned his head to face me, his eyes eating mine up just right for the tiniest beat when the phone ring started up through the car stereo. The office number flashed up on the dashboard screen.

  And just like that, it was over.

  He cleared his throat and answered the call, and he was back to normal, done and finished. His voice was just the same as always as he talked Rachel on reception through some auction figures from Friday.

  I looked out of the passenger window as he went through the details, knowing in my heart that the moment was done. My thighs were still pressed together and I wanted him so much it hurt, but I knew it was broken apart for today, gone in a flash with the stupid phone call.

  Sure enough, the conversation turned back into the safe zone once his conversation with Rachel was done.

  He asked me about Maple and Co. Antiques and what I liked so much about them. He asked about how many writing slopes I’d seen and whether I’d actually used them to work on. He asked me about the TV shows around college and who my favourite celebrity auctioneers were, and the whole time I answered I kept my smile up bright and meant it.

  Even though I was craving so much more, I meant it.

  We were at Brayburn’s before I knew it. He pulled up in their car park and reached for his briefcase from the back, and I was pleased to be here. Even though I wanted so much more, I was pleased to be here.

  I told him so.

  “Thanks,” I said, before we got to their main entrance. “I’m really grateful you brought me here. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  His smile was amazing and unexpected. One of the ones I’d known so well when I was just a little girl.

  Proud.

  He looked proud of me.

  It made my heart flutter to a whole different tune.

  “You’re very welcome, little princess,” he said, and I could barely move, not even when he held the door open.

  He hadn’t called me that in years.

  Chapter Eight

  Miles

  Thank holy fuck we got to Brayburn’s. I was torn in half, the two sides at each other’s throats and being mediated by the only version of me with any sense left in his skull.

  On one side was the man who loved the sweet little girl who’d captured my heart over a lifetime. I loved her enthusiasm for life, and her cute little tone, and the way she tried so hard to be such a sharp little cookie. On the other side was the filthy dirty Miles who was craving with every cell in his deviant body to make that little princess mine.

  It was the sane, rational business version of me that was holding the line in any way fucking steady.

  Her eyes were wide as I held the door open for her, a little gasp of breath sounding out before she stepped over the threshold. I cleared my throat and headed for the reception desk, cursing myself to get a fucking grip until Graham Brayburn came on through.

  I introduced him to Faith as soon as he arrived with us, and sure enough his eyes roved right the way over her. She grinned back at him immune.

  His nod at me over her head spoke volumes, but I couldn’t bring myself to nod back. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but scowl right on over at him.

  He shook it off and got down to business as soon as we were through to his office. We spoke about what kind of antiques he was interested in for the suites at his Quayside hotel and what we should be keeping an eye out for. I tried to keep my eyes on him, but I couldn’t stop the way they flitted over to my side, soaking up Faith’s big baby blues as she swallowed up every little thing he was saying.

  I wasn’t expecting her to chip in with thoughts of her own, but they seemed to come naturally. A simplicity in her tone sang a truly beautiful tune.

  “Have you thought about an ebonised credenza?” she asked him. “If you want the contrast with the white of the walls, it could look so impressive with the painted front panel.”

  And she was right. Holy fuck, she was right.

  Graham knew it just as well as I did.

  “An ebonised credenza would be perfect for that spot,” he said. “Please do keep an eye out for one.”

  Her smile was a beacon. A gorgeous little beacon of pride.

  It made my heart soar higher than my fucking dick for once.

  Once she had the confidence from that one success, she was very forthcoming with some other ideas. They were all truly exceptional little gems of instinct.

  By the time we wrapped up for the afternoon she had a whole page full of her own scribbles in addition to mine.

  She shook his hand so hard before saying goodbye, and his nod over her head this time was about a whole load more than her ass in her pencil skirt.

  “Lovely to meet you,” he said to her, and meant it.

  “Really pleased to meet you too,” she said right back.

  I couldn’t stop staring at her as we crossed the car park. Her happiness was palpable, blooming out from her bright enough to burn.

  “Well done to the clever pumpkin,” I said when we were back in the car.

  “Thanks,” she said, and that grin of hers was at full radiance. “I really loved it.”

  We talked about his requests and went over the details afresh, and for once it was the good man Miles who won the battle. The one that had adored that little girl sin
ce she was a tiny little dot eating her cereals. I couldn’t stop the way I smiled at her and told her she was a sharp little cookie. I couldn’t stop the way I was beaming with pride for the good girl who’d done so well.

  At first she loved it, I could see it in her eyes beaming back at me.

  At first she was that little girl so pleased to have been so good and so clever.

  But then it changed. Slowly but surely on the drive back home it changed.

  Until she didn’t want it anymore.

  “You really have got a talent for matching the items with the buyers,” I said again with the same proud smile on my face. “That’s my girl, princess. You always were such a little smartie.”

  And that’s when she shifted. That’s when the first flare of something else zapped out to bite me.

  “I’m not a little smartie anymore,” she said, and there was a fire in her voice I hadn’t heard before.

  “Sorry?” I said, genuinely taken aback.

  “I’m not a little smartie,” she said again. “I’m not a cookie, or a pumpkin, or a sweetie pie. I’m me, Faith. Nearly a woman who wants to be a woman. I’ll be eighteen in two weeks.”

  Oh, how it hit me. I felt it smash me in the gut, the quiet rage in her words.

  The split between the two sides of me took a whole new turn. On one side was the man who wanted to apologise and say I’d respect her more in her age, and it was an oversight. On the other was the man who wanted to pull this car over to the side of the road, wrench her over my lap and tug that pencil skirt up high, and tell her she’d be my little girl however I fucking wanted her to be and learn her lessons without any backchat, pumpkin or cookie or whatever the fuck I wanted to call her with my fingers stretching that tight little cunt open wide.

  I went silent. Brooding. My brain ticking as my pulse quickened.

  “Everyone treats me like I’m a little kid,” she continued. “I’m always the silly little baby who has to eat her vegetables, and I’m sick of it. I don’t want it anymore.”

  I fought back the urge to ask her what she did want. Because it would be dangerous. I already knew what the answer would be.

  The same fucking thing I wanted. My cock to be the one to claim that tight little snatch and make her mine.

  “You’re still your parents’ little girl,” I said. “That’s a lovely thing.”

  She shook her head. “It’s a lovely thing when you’re five. Not when you’re almost old enough to get a mortgage.”

  I couldn’t hold back the smirk at that. “I don’t think you’ll ever stop being your dad’s little girl. However many mortgages you get.”

  Her shrug was a stroppy teenager’s. “Yeah, well, as long as I eat my broccoli I guess.”

  “It’s the adults who eat the broccoli,” I said. “The kids all want the jelly beans and the chocolate sprinkles.”

  “Maybe being a kid isn’t so bad then on that score.” She stretched her legs out in the footwell and let out a sigh. “Sorry,” she said. “I just don’t want to be a kid in the office as well as at home.”

  “And you won’t be,” I told her. “You’ll never be a kid in the office, not while you’re putting as much in as you’re putting in. You’re very much a member of the team.”

  I felt her eyes on me, even though mine were on the road ahead. “It’s not just the office I’m worried about,” she said, and looked away.

  I should have left it quiet. Should have turned up the radio and changed the fucking topic and buried all thoughts of that pretty little snatch and how I wanted to feast on it, but I couldn’t. Filthy prick Miles won out in that one fucking moment.

  “What else are you worried about, little girl?” I asked, and the irony in my tone was in a whole fucking league of its own.

  It was her breath. Quick. Little gasps that had my cock pulsing. Because she felt it. She knew it.

  I didn’t think she was going to be able to answer my question. The silence was so heavy it was alive in the car between us, pulsing all on its own.

  But then she did.

  Just one sharp little word, barely a whisper.

  “You.”

  I made her say it again.

  “What else are you worried about, little girl?” I asked for the second time, and this time she knew what I was demanding.

  She turned her face to mine and my eyes were waiting for hers.

  “You,” she said, and the whisper was slightly louder this time. “I’m worried about you, Mr Lindon, sir.” She found her voice a little more, summoning up one last bit of that fire. “I’m not a little girl anymore. Don’t treat me like one.”

  Oh fuck, how I was going to treat her like one.

  I pulled the car sharp off to the left and the upcoming services. I didn’t bother with the main car park, just pulled right on up in the first part of layby and turned off the engine. We sat in silence, both of us breathing heavy, and I was still trying to fight it. Trying my fucking best with my cock busting to get fucking free from my pants and into that chopsy little mouth of hers.

  “This shouldn’t happen,” I said. “This really can’t happen. It’s not right.”

  “But I want it…” she said. “Mr Lindon, I really want it. I want you to be my first. I’ll be eighteen soon. I really want it to be you.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to fucking battle it, but I heard her twitch in her seat, and all I could picture were those dainty little fingers between her legs.

  “Show me how much you want it,” I said, and hated myself for it. “Touch that sweet little pussy for me and show me.”

  Her gasp was divine. Her fingers were shaking as she spread those thighs nice and wide for me.

  “That’s it,” I growled. “That’s a good girl. Show me.”

  She bit her lip. She actually fucking bit her lip. I wanted to lean on over and bite it for her.

  But I couldn’t. I fucking couldn’t.

  Even I couldn’t bring myself to fucking do this.

  I slammed my hands against the steering wheel.

  “No,” I said and meant it this time. “No, Faith. I can’t. We can’t.”

  Her eyes were so hurt. “But there’s nothing wrong… I’m a woman… I’m totally legal, I’ll be even older… eighteen soon… we can do this…”

  I shook my head. “I can’t,” I said again. “You’re my employee. Colin’s daughter. There’s nothing ok about this.” I started the car back up. “And there never will be.”

  I imagine my tone must have been definite enough to sting. She spun to face the window and didn’t say another word. Not as I pulled out of the service station and not all the way back the rest of the way home.

  I dropped her outside her parents’ house and hated myself all over again when she bailed out of the car.

  “I’ll see you at work in the morning,” I said, and barely got a nod out of her.

  I watched her all the way up her driveway, and cursed myself some fucking more before I drove away.

  Chapter Nine

  Faith

  He wasn’t going to do it. Not with me.

  It hurt like absolute hell.

  I knew he wanted it. Holy crap, he wanted it as much as I did, and I knew it now for sure. But he wasn’t going to do it, not with him believing it was so damn wrong.

  It wasn’t wrong. I really was a woman, just a few weeks from my eighteenth birthday. All of my friends at college had been with guys loads of times over. I was the sad little virgin behind everyone else, not some little schoolgirl making him some filthy weirdo.

  I couldn’t stop the tears as I lay listening to my Mr Lindon playlist in bed that night. I’d been pinging Holly like crazy, and she’d been trying to tell me to chill out and it would still happen, but I didn’t believe her. Not anymore.

  I didn’t believe anything good was going to come out of us after the car episode. He just seemed so strong. So strong and so sure he should say no.

  Why was he so damn sure he should say no?

  The
next day had me feeling like a zombie in the office. Numb to everything. It was better that way than feeling so damn broken.

  I saw him in the main office in the morning, enough for a smile and a hello, but that was all there was to it. With a wave and nothing more he was out of the office with his briefcase at just gone lunchtime, and I knew then that he’d be away for the rest of the day.

  Avoiding me.

  He was definitely avoiding me.

  It only hurt even more.

  It was only when Rachel came buzzing around my desk needing some Brayburn’s listings from the day previous that I had to snap into my office best and dive in to help her.

  “I really need it today,” she said. “I need to start the research net up ready.”

  I knew roughly what lists he’d been using and typing up that morning. I could remember them clearly as well as my own.

  “Erica’s over at the property office,” Rachel said. “She’s probably not going to be back before the day is out. Do you think you could head into Mr Lindon’s office and scope it out for me? His phone’s ringing through to voicemail.”

  I got a weird little shiver at the thought of being in his space, so close to him even in his absence, and then came the pang of rejection again.

  He just didn’t want me. Not enough to act on it.

  Maybe I wasn’t the kind of girl he really wanted. Maybe Penny Andrews had just been a one off, and he didn’t want anything like her again.

  Maybe I just wasn’t enough.

  Maybe, maybe, maybe. None of it really mattered. Not right now.

  “I’ll go and see if I can find it,” I said to Rachel and got to my feet.

  It felt weird going into Mr Lindon’s office when he was out of it. I looked through the papers on his desk but found nothing, and I guess it was luck that meant his computer hadn’t quite closed down properly when he’d put it to sleep. The screen started right up again with him logged in as soon as I moved his mouse an inch.

  His documents were easy to look through, not a surprise since he was clearly super well organised, and I had no problem whatsoever finding just the list Rachel was looking for. I pinged it right through to her email with a smiley emoticon.