Daddy
Her eyes widen as she stares at the key.
I've had it for weeks, resting in the drawer of my desk. When her father died and a mutual friend of ours brought it to me, I didn't think much of it. He said Mr. Sheffield wanted me to have it, for safekeeping. I wasn’t given any instructions other than that. I slipped it in the drawer. Got back to work. Completely forgot about it.
Then one of the secretaries overheard Reece asking about it. Said she needed it badly. The secretary came to me. Told me Reece was looking for it. Suddenly, the key was powerful, unlocking a whole new world to me. One with Reece at the center of it. She became the sun of my own personal universe.
I saw my opportunity.
“Something I want for something you need.” I raise the key in the air, letting it dangle from its red ribbon.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for this.” She reaches out, letting her finger connect with the metal, then pulls her hand away. “It was my father’s.”
“Here. It’s yours now.” I take her hand in mine, letting the key fall into her open palm. I curl her fingers around it.
“He has this old cabinet in the back of his office. It’s still there, but no one can get it open. I’m hoping when I get inside of it, it'll help me figure out what happened to him,” she says.
Find out what happened to him?
I respected her father—he had a sharp mind for twisting the law—but he wasn’t the healthiest man. We were told he’d died of a heart attack, a fate from too much stress and fried foods. “I thought he had a heart attack,” I say.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she shakes her head. She opens her hand to look at the key. “I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
She glances up, the look in her eyes close to trust but just out of reach. “I just have this feeling that there was something more going on. Maybe…foul play?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Something he said just before he died. Something about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy. But he seemed on edge before he died.”
“And you think this key will lead you to clues?” I ask.
She gives a shrug. “I think it will at least lead me to whatever it is he’s been keeping in that cabinet. He told me once that he kept everything that meant something to him in there.”
“How will you get into his office? The law firm is very private. I’m not sure they’ll let you in there, now that he’s passed.”
She shrugs. “I haven’t gotten that far. I don’t know. I was thinking of maybe applying for a night shift cleaning job or something like that to get access.”
“No,” I say too harshly.
Her eyes shoot to mine, and she pulls back. The idea of her traveling in the city at night, cleaning offices, has me physically upset.
I temper my tone. “That won’t be necessary. I can get them to let you in.”
I pull her in closer, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist. I love the feel of her weight on my thigh, the warmth of her skin, the smell of her hair. I want her to always be safe in my arms.
But I only have this one night.
I need to make the most of it.
First, I need to ease her mind.
"I'll help you.” I take a deep breath, inhaling her sweet scent. “I'll find out whatever I can about your father."
"You will?" she asks.
"Yes. I know people in high places. Ones that owe me favors. I'll see what I can find out."
"Thank you." She gives me a radiant smile. Bright. My little star.
I take the key from her hand, slipping it back in my pocket. “I’m going to hold this for safekeeping. I’ll get you in this week.”
Her eyes trail after the key. “I can keep it.”
“Where?” I ask. I eye her dress. “You don’t have pockets. You don’t have a coat. You don’t have a purse. What you’re wearing is barely a dress.” I run a fingertip along the hemline of her skirt. It’s ridden up to the tops of her thighs, proving my point. I can see her pussy, her panties still around the tops of her thighs.
She tugs at the hem of her dress. “This is a perfectly nice dress.”
I let my finger slip under her short skirt. “It’s a sexy little number, yes. But I wouldn’t call it a dress.”
“What would you call it then?” She crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a naughty pout with her full lips.
A pout that makes my cock ache for her.
“I call it a silly little scrap of fabric that I’m about to take off of you.”
"Humph." Her argument is weak. A spark of light flickers behind her eyes.
I travel further beneath the dress. My fingers find the gusset of her panties between the tops of her soft thighs. The fabric is damp. “What’s this?”
“What?” Her cheeks bloom with rosy patches. She looks away, unable to meet my eyes.
I explore further, running my fingers up and down the seam of her sex over her panties. “Your panties are damp, young lady. Somebody's all wet for daddy. Aren't they?”
My touch makes her hips squirm. My words make her pretty flush deepen.
“That’s not my fault,” she protests. Her hand goes to mine, trying to push me away in her shame.
I don't let her. I move my fingers harder, faster against her sex. Her hips start rolling. “Tsk, tsk, naughty girl. Never push daddy’s hand away when he’s touching you.” I move my mouth to her ear, nipping at her lobe as I stroke her over her panties.
“Mmm…” She moves against me, making a kitten-like mewing sound. A delicious little shudder travels through her body.
Her hand leaves mine, but she leaves it hovering near.
My lips graze her ear. “Does daddy need to put you back over his lap for another spanking? Or are you going to be my good girl?”