Daddy's Dirty Boss

“I sent them through to her,” I said, like that made any difference in the slightest.

“Good,” he replied.

I didn’t wait another minute in his space. I daren’t. I just turned away with a wave and made my way right on out of there.

I just hope I escaped the raid into his space unscathed.

Maybe there could be such a thing as a miracle.

Or maybe not.Chapter TenMilesShe’d left it open. Not by choice, clearly. No. My impromptu reappearance in the doorway had seen to that.

There it was, as bold as brass, minimised on my taskbar alongside the Brayburn’s spreadsheet. I didn’t know whether to scowl or smirk as I called up the picture of me alongside filthy little Penny. My dick strained regardless, the confusion not stretching that far down.

My cock knew what it wanted. My cock knew how I felt about Faith sneaking her eyes over pictures of me about to stretch Penny’s mouth open nice and fucking wide.

My cock knew I wanted to teach my dirty Faith some fucking manners by choking her hard, my length all the way down that sweet little throat of hers.

I pushed myself back in my seat, cursing my aching balls. Cursing my own stupidity for having the girl take a summer job in this place. Cursing fucking everything.

Clicking onto my web browser seemed the obvious choice, and I clicked on history to call up another round of my favourite filthy schoolgirl videos. A release from the tension by spurting over some horny little bitches seemed by far the best option, but that’s when another round of need slammed me in the gut, another dirty little surprise all ready to greet me.

My browser history was one long stream of filth. Every dirty video from my backlog was right there in one solid line, all of them clicked and viewed by that nosey little innocent princess.

Oh, naughty Faith. Such a bad little girl indeed.

It took every scrap of self-restraint not to pick up my telephone handset and summon her into my office in that one paltry second. How I tried to make that self-restraint last, and how I failed. It lasted three minutes tops before I crumbled, morality done and dusted, consequences be fucking damned. The phone was in my hand, finger hovering over her extension button when the universe stepped in to lend me a helping hand.

The ping of my email was enough to grab my attention for a heartbeat, flashing up onscreen. It was Colin Martin’s name in bold that held it there, my gut already swimming in protest at my own disgusting needs.

The title was Birthday. The topic was Faith.

Hey Miles, just checking you can make our little sweetheart’s birthday party? We’re doing it as a surprise at ours, a week this Saturday.

Can’t believe our little girl is going to be eighteen. She’s still such a baby.

Really hope you can make it.

How those words hit hard.

Hard enough, at least.

She’s still such a baby.

I slammed that handset down like it was my fucking auction hammer and made my decision all over again.

No. I wouldn’t be letting my filth take the reins. Not with Faith Martin. Not for every scrap of need in the fucking world. I gritted my teeth and pictured her in her bedroom as a little one with that little fluff ball of a kitten in her arms, forcing myself to get a damn fucking grip. And then I replied to her dad.

I’ll be there.

Three simple words that had me reeling.

Three simple words which also had me acting, taking control like the man I should be.

I drew up the office calendar and made some arrangements I should have made on day one. I scheduled Faith in with the different members of the team in a far more structured setting. I set her up to shadow the finance team for a whole week straight, and Stephen on warehousing for a few days afterwards. I put her with Rachel on reception to handle client visits for another full week after that, and Mel in admin to teach her purchase reporting. It was enough to block her out and keep her at arm’s length.

Sure enough, as I surveyed my calendar amendments, I could let out a breath of relief. It was safe, and it was done.

I wished I didn’t feel so utterly shit for it as I fired off the instruction email to everyone in the office, Faith included. I wished it was purely about the ache in my balls and not a pang of something so much deeper.

So much more dangerous.

A pang I should never be acknowledging.

I wished I’d never seen the talent in that girl. The enthusiasm in that girl. The passion in that girl.

I wished I’d never seen the sparkle in her eyes, or the sweetness in her smile, or the way she was so confident and so humble both at once.