Daddy’s Dirty Boss Page 2

  Dad’s smile was bright as he reached over the desk for a handshake from his boss. His friend and boss. “Really, thanks a lot, Miles,” he said. “She’ll be grateful for the experience.”

  I hovered like a clumsy teenager as my dad retreated from there, my gaze flitting from Erica to Mr Lindon and back again while my new boss still perused my file.

  Already this initial encounter was nothing like I’d imagined. Nothing I’d been dreaming of for months. It was nothing like the sizzling tension I’d hoped would be spitting and bubbling from the moment I stepped over his threshold. It was nothing like the hungry stare I’d been hoping for as he’d realised I was a young girl zooming quickly into adulthood. The kind of adulthood he wanted a piece of.

  “You can introduce Miss Martin to the ropes of auctioneering,” he said to Erica, and she nodded.

  “I’ll introduce Miss Martin to the fundamental building blocks of office life around here first and foremost,” she replied, and there was a chill in her smile.

  “I’m looking forward to learning,” I offered, but it was all to Mr Lindon, and I felt a fresh round of goofy as Erica pointed me towards the office doorway.

  My eyes slammed into my crush’s once more before I retreated, and it was heavy. The crash of our stare was a whole ocean of unspoken.

  We were in the garden, both of us reeling. Both of us guilty. Both of us hungry and filthy and dirty for more.

  We were in the tension of this office environment, me feeling like a blustery little girl out of her depth, and a whole new woman all at once.

  We were in my bedroom when I was seven years old, stroking Miss Tiddles, the cat he’d given me, and reading the Owl and the Pussycat while I fell asleep.

  We were riveted. Burning bright. Frozen cold.

  We were a mess.

  “Let’s start with the basics,” Erica said, and her hand landed on my arm. Her fingers squeezed tight. “I’m sure you have a brain plenty big enough to handle the office building blocks in a heartbeat.”

  I managed a nod. A nod and a shuffle. Gracing just one more goofy smile back over my shoulder in his direction before she guided me on out of there and closed the door behind us.

  I was coasting in the aftermath, following her past photocopiers and printers with my heart still pounding, feeling every bit the dreaming Faith Martin who’d finally come face to face with her love icon all over again. Until my new office manager spoke. Until she pulled up sharp in a room that looked like some kind of monstrous filing zone and tugged the door closed tight behind us.

  “Let’s get the basics clear,” she told me, and her voice sounded like a cat’s hiss. “You’re here to tick the boxes and learn the basics. Nothing more. Nothing more glamorous than any other simple office girl craving a piece of Miles Lindon, no matter who your dad might be.”

  “Sorry –” I began, but she handed me a pile of paperwork with a thump.

  “You think this is bargain beater,” she said. “But believe me, it’s not. It’s nothing of the sort. If you’re lucky, you’ll see a few auctions. If you’re lucky, you’ll see Miles get to slam his hammer down. That’s it. All that you’ve got on the table.”

  “But I want to learn…” I started. “I want to learn to be an auctioneer…”

  “Then you’d better get started with the A’s,” she snapped, and pointed at the filing cabinets.

  I was still staring open-mouthed as she stepped on out of there. Still, what choice did I have? I was here for the journey.

  I started putting the papers in alphabetical order and hoped for the best.

  Chapter Two

  Miles

  I already knew what was coming. Her bitter slit of a mouth, lips pressed tight.

  Erica stormed into my office, her inner ice queen on full display, pitted eyebrows sharp enough to slice.

  “You could learn to knock like everyone else,” I snapped.

  “Why? In case you already have your filthy hand down your pants over sweet little Faith Martin?” she snapped right back.

  I stared over at my delightful office manager, wondering yet again why I still put up with her ceaseless bitching after all these years.

  “I haven’t got my hand down my pants over Faith Martin,” I grunted, and turned my attention back to my monitor screen. “Give me some fucking credit at least.”

  “Like there’s any credit due,” she hissed and dropped a fresh pile of paperwork in front of me. More invoices to sign off.

  I shoved them aside. “And what do you have her doing on her first day? Something worthwhile, yes?”

  She leaned over the desk with a raised eyebrow. “None of your business since she’s my trainee.”

  I grabbed her wrist before she pulled away. “It’s every bit my fucking business, Erica, considering she’s Faith Martin. You’d best not have her in the fucking filing room.”

  She tugged her arm free. “Everyone starts with the filing in life, Miles. She’s not some special princess just because you read her bedtime stories way back when and her daddy works for the company.”

  I took a breath. “You get her out of the filing room now. I mean it.”

  “No,” she snapped. “She’ll be out of the filing room when I deem she’s shown enough application to deserve it.”

  “I mean it,” I said again, but she was already on her heel like the bitch she was. She flipped me the finger before slamming the door closed behind her.

  How we ever managed this shitter of a setup I’ll never know. Hard work and a lot of deep fucking breaths, I suppose. That and a whole load of fake smiles in other people’s professional company.

  Once upon a very long time ago, Erica Tate and I had made some semblance of a decent partnership. A decent pairing of headstrong personalities, both in the office and in the bedroom. Never so much over the dining room table, but you can’t win ’em fucking all. These days we were nothing but a counterbalance to our opposing bullishness and an acceptance of each other’s shitty qualities.

  She was still here, in the business, because she was good at her job. No arguing that. She was capable, certainly, but there was more to it than professional competence.

  Erica was my office manager because her raised eyebrow and bitter scowl kept me in line where my morals didn’t. She was my office manager because she knew enough of my filthy ways to buffer me out of interviews and sieve out all the pretty little sweethearts before hiring.

  There were always so many temptations to shield from me. So many fluttering eyelashes and cute little smiles calling out to feel my filth. So many innocent little ladies just begging for corruption.

  Yet never, in all my years battling the bait, had there ever been a temptation so potent as my little Faith on her sixteenth birthday, dressed up so pretty in pink with her dainty fingers strumming so softly, so fucking sweetly, so fucking quickly between her legs.

  My stomach lurched at the thought, even as my dick pulsed.

  And now little Faith was older. Just enough older that those sweet curves had matured, turning her even further into a little blonde siren.

  Fucking hell, she was a little blonde siren today.

  I tried to turn my attention to the pile of invoices, occupying my wrist with the flourish of my signature as opposed to a round of jerking under the desk, but my mind was firmly engaged on the girl.

  For almost two full years I’d been keeping my distance from the Martin household, avoiding the little angel who’d come to mean so much to me as I watched her grow. Her young school days with her so eager to learn her arithmetic. Her ditsy little performances in the yearly nativity play. Her little face lighting up when I’d presented her with the fluffy little stinker of a kitten she’d been wanting so hard for months.

  That day in her backyard it was me she’d wanted so hard.

  There was no denying it. No skirting it. No amount of lying to myself that would undo the knowing.

  I’d seen it in that mischievous little pant of hers. The shame in her eyes, kno
wing what a naughty girl she was for wanting her daddy’s filthy, dirty boss inside her tight little pussy.

  She was such a naughty little girl. Such a naughty little girl who needed to learn her lesson.

  Hell, there were plenty of lessons I wanted to show her.

  I pushed myself back in my seat and gritted my teeth. I wasn’t doing it. Not this time.

  I wasn’t going to give into my own filthy fucking nature and corrupt that little girl, not for anything.

  When Colin had approached me about Faith doing her summer training job here, in our antiques and salerooms side of the business, I’d initially said I didn’t have the capacity for it. I said we were busy. Unable to offer her the value she deserved from a placement.

  It was his face that had done it. The disappointment in his shrug as he’d said that was a real shame. That she’d been excited about learning about the auctions for years. Excited about the furniture and the artworks and the thrill of the bidding wars.

  Excited about working with me.

  That’s what Colin said. He said his daughter had been excited about working with me.

  Oh, the tear between good and bad. The good of wanting to be the nice, decent man I’d been to her when she was so small. The bad of knowing that man was gone, and that in his place was a monster who wanted the dirty young woman he’d seen exposed at sweet sixteen.

  The good had attempted to win.

  The good had seen Faith signed up for a few months of summer work here under Erica and the admin team.

  The good had promised myself I’d stay well out of view and at arm’s length of the beautiful young girl who deserved the very best from this place.

  I pulled the invoices back and got myself together. My resolve was firm again finally, my pen making quick work of the signoffs and turning my attention back to my upcoming schedule. I had plenty to be getting on with.

  After drawing up the item specifications for next week’s auction and fielding last-minute admission requests to sift out the prized articles, it was fast approaching clock off time for the day. I shot a glance out of the window onto the car park in time to see Erica clacking her way out in stupid heels to her Audi convertible. She’d been making sharp exits lately on more occasions than not. Local town gossip down at the Farmer’s union speculated that she was hooking up with Glyn Morris, the apple farmer on the southern outskirts of town. Lots of money, big hands, not so many brain cells.

  I couldn’t give a shit who she was hooking up with, I was more concerned with her bailing on the job before the other girls had signed off for the day. I’m never one for unfair work practices.

  I waited until everyone else would definitely be finished for the day, Rachel Kelly giving a knock and a ‘we’re done, Mr Lindon’ with a wave before I gathered my own things together and gave my email a final check before logging out. I was done quite happily, pulling on my coat before picking up my car keys, congratulating myself for surviving Faith’s first day without jerking one off. I got my office lights and those in the corridor, and that’s when I saw the lights from the filing room still fully blazing around the doorway.

  No. Surely not. Surely someone else would have checked before bailing.

  But no. No, they hadn’t.

  She started as I burst my way in there, holding her hand to her chest with those pretty little lips forming the perfect O as she saw it was me.

  “It’s past leaving time,” I told her. “You leave at five thirty. It’s way gone six.”

  Her nod was divine. Her smile so fucking cute.

  “Yes, Mr Lindon, sir. I’m sorry. I was just trying to finish up before I left. I wanted to do so well on my first day. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to be here.”

  I don’t know when I’d become Mr Lindon, sir, but I liked it.

  I really fucking liked it.

  I forced my eyes away from her sweet little mouth, and could have cursed aloud at the sight of the ridiculous pile of filing on the desk in front of her. Erica Tate really was a deliberately obstructive bitch on heat.

  “Nobody would have ever expected you to finish up that pile before you left,” I told her, and beckoned her away from it.

  “But Erica said –”

  “Erica likes to make people feel incompetent,” I said, and held the door open. “Take no notice of her.”

  “But she said she’s my manager… she said I’d be working for her the whole time… that I need to do whatever she –”

  And that’s when my better judgement bailed. Properly fucking bailed.

  “You won’t be working for Erica Tate,” I told sweet little Faith. “Not from tomorrow morning.”

  Her eyebrows shot up so high on her forehead. “I won’t?”

  Her voice. So gentle. So curious. So damn enticing.

  “No,” I said, my voice so hard next to hers. I flicked off the filing room lights once she met me at the doorway, and her eyes were so wide in the dull light through the window blinds.

  I cleared my throat before continuing, despising how my cock was straining in my suit trousers.

  “You won’t be working for Erica Tate tomorrow morning,” I repeated, already hating myself for the stupidity. “You’ll be working for me.”

  Chapter Three

  Faith

  “So, how was it?”

  Dad’s smile was bright as he forked up his vegetables. So keen to hear about my day that I felt even naughtier for feeling so churned up by Mr Lindon.

  Mum was smiling too, staring across the table at me and just as keen for the details. But it wasn’t the finer details I was so keen to share.

  It was the pang of want for Mr Lindon. Of need for Mr Lindon.

  The pang of knowing that this was the man really meant to be my first. Because he was. He really was meant to be my first, even if the rest of the world didn’t know it yet, especially him.

  My belly was still fluttering with nerves as I tried to find the right way to answer Dad’s question. I didn’t want to tell him that Erica had shoved me into the filing room like I was some dumbass little idiot who shouldn’t be anywhere near there.

  “It was good,” I said. “It was really nice to see everyone again. They were all really nice to me.”

  I wasn’t lying. The women in the office had been lovely for the little I’d seen of them.

  “And what did you learn?” Dad pushed. “Did Miles show you around the sale room?”

  I shook my head and took a bite of broccoli. “Not yet,” I told him. “Erica was showing me the admin today, but Mr Lindon says I’ll be working with him tomorrow.”

  I told them as much as I could about the day without making it obvious I’d spent it trying to get the filing sorted and little else, realising that no matter how hard I tried to steer clear from gushing, it was still Mr Lindon this, and Mr Lindon that.

  Mum let out a sigh. “Surely she can call him Miles, Colin? It’s not as if she hasn’t known him her whole life.”

  I felt my cheeks burn up at the thought, and it was weird, because she was right. I had known him my whole life, and I wasn’t quite sure exactly when he’d turned from Milesssss in an excited squeal back when I had gaps in my teeth, to Mr Lindon, Daddy’s boss, when I was putting my fingers down my knickers and imagining him telling me off.

  One thing was for sure. He was definitely Mr Lindon, Daddy’s boss, now.

  Dad shrugged and turned his head to Mum. “I think the other women in the office call him Mr Lindon. Faith doesn’t want to be setting herself up with any unfair privileges.”

  “I don’t mind calling him Mr Lindon,” I said. “I mean, he’s my boss now.”

  “And I’m sure he’ll be a good boss,” Mum said.

  I felt that naughtiness down deep again, picturing Penny Andrews at the bottom of our garden with his hand around her throat for the billionth time.

  “Miles is a great boss,” Dad said. “He’s firm but fair. A true expert in the field. Faith is going to be a very lucky young lady to lea
rn from him.” He shot me another one of his smiles. “Be very thankful you’re getting his time, sweetie.”

  Dad had always been such good friends with Mr Lindon. They’d been working together forever, as long as I knew. I’d only ever heard nice things said about the man who was the boss of both the property business – which Dad managed – and the antiques and auction side, which I was so transfixed by.

  I guess that’s one of the reasons it had been such a naughty shock to see Mr Lindon making such a bad girl of Penny Andrews. A shock I wanted. A shock that had turned everything upside down and sent me crazy with dirty thoughts for the past two years straight.

  Sure, there had been plenty of nice enough guys at college trying to be the one to claim my V card. My best friend, Holly, had been trying to get me to give up my crazy crush and splurge on some random hot guy solidly. But I hadn’t been tempted for a second. Not even close.

  There was only one hot guy for me, and he was well and truly worth waiting for.

  Talking of Holly, I knew she’d be waiting with bated breath for my first day update. I forked up some more potato and knuckled down to finishing my dinner.

  I couldn’t help but notice, as Mum and Dad smiled and stared across the table at me, that in their world I was still the seven year old schoolgirl coming home with a gold star in my maths book. I guess that’s the thing about being an only child. You are always the child. Always the little one. Always the girl who has to be good and eat up her vegetables.

  There was no way my parents saw me as a woman rocketing towards her eighteenth birthday in just a few short weeks’ time. If I had to bet on anything, I’d say I’d still be having the sparkly pink balloons and the glittery cupcakes for my birthday party. Not that I’d mind that. I love glitter.

  “I’m going out with Holly tonight,” I said to them both, reiterating that I was still the baby girl who needed approval to head out for a few hours in the evening.

  “The forecast says a bit of rain is on the way,” Mum said. “Make sure you wrap up warm.”

  “So much for summer,” I said, and took the final scoop of my carrots. I placed my cutlery down neatly.