Page 34 of Big Daddy

I filter out and find my way to my office, closing the door behind me. Would it be too much to pull the secretary’s station into my office? Have her work in the same room as me? Yes, probably so. And the rest of the office would talk about it, and therefore, her, too.

I scratch the side of my jaw, then yawn loudly, eyes watering. I’m so tired. And yet, even as sleepy and exhausted as I am from tossing and turning all night, adrenaline keeps me up and going—knowing I’m going to see her.

There’s a soft knock at the door which gets me to my feet, sliding my hands in my trouser pockets as Kennedy steps inside, Winnie on her heels.

“Mr. Parker,” she starts, “here is your?—”

Winnie pushes past Ken, bumping Ken’s hip with hers as she does. “Oh, it’s not that serious. He’s not that serious.” She smiles at me then looks back at Ken. “The stiffer you are when you come in, the more of an asshole he becomes.”

“Winnie,” I caution before leveling her with a glare.

She lifts her palms, not unlike Pen earlier. “Sorry, okay, I’ll be an office robot now.”

I nod curtly at Ken. “Thank you for bringing her in. Is her desk set up?”

She looks between myself and Winnie nervously before nodding. “Yes, it’s ready for Ms. Collins.”

Another nod and Ken closes the door behind her, leaving me with Winnie. I steal a long moment to take her in, not hiding a single second of it. I fingered her ass for Christ’s sake, I think she’s fully aware of how much I fucking want her.

“First, you look fucking beautiful,” I tell her, stroking my hand down my jaw since it’s the only thing I can stroke. Hercurly dark hair is up in her typical messy bun, but the loose tendrils that dare to do their own thing make the bun sexy. Her lips are painted a deep red, her eyes wing lined again with thick lashes of onyx. Wearing a black pencil skirt and black and white low-heeled Mary Janes, a white blouse and a simple gold necklace, she looks like the secretary of every man’s fantasies.

This actually could have been a terrible idea. This is my business. I can’t be preoccupied by a beautiful young woman all day.

Then again, knowing she’s living in a house with young, virile men who have nothing but time to fuck and do crunches? Keeping her at my side as much during the day feels logical. A must, even.

“Thank you,” she says, sliding into a chair across from my desk. The same one she sat in last time she was here, tossing cash on my desk and telling me about her feet venture. I take a seat at my desk and enjoy the tightness in my ribs as we drink each other in with our eyes. Her lips quirk up at the ends, a slight smile that has my balls aching.

“Second,” I start, because even though I’d love nothing more than to push everything off this desk, get Winnie on her hands and knees on top and eat her out from behind while she cries my name. Still, this is my place of work. Outwardly, it must stay professional. “You can’t call me an asshole, or advise Kennedy on how to… I don’t know, manipulate me.”

Winnie’s grin expands into a full-blown smile. “Can you be manipulated?”

I shake my head staunchly. “No.” I glance at the framed photo on my desk then over at my daughter’s best friend. “Yes. But the list of people who I allow to do so is very small.”

“B?” she asks, the other question silently hanging off the cliff of unspoken things. She wants to know if she’s included on the list of people who can manipulate me.

I nod. “Brielle, yes.”

She nods too, nibbling the crimson from her bottom lip, leaving a little colorless spot. I stare her down, and after a moment, she finally lets out a sigh followed by the world’s biggest eye roll. “God, Big Daddy, you can be so annoying.” She leans over the desk, her white blouse separating from her chest, leaving me with an eyeful of cleavage. I steal a glance, because irrationally and illogically, those tits are mine.

“You know I have you by your balls, why do you make me say it?” she whispers, her voice smokey and raspy, seductively crawling up my pant leg until it finds my cock. Hard and achy beneath my desk, I groan as I lean over and nip her lips.

She sits back. “You can’t kiss me at work, Big Daddy.”

“You can’t call me Big Daddy at work.”

She sighs. “Fine,Large Father.”

I narrow my eyes at her, glaring as my cock grows fatter and happier than he’s been in hours. “Mr. Parker.”

She stomps her heeled foot, making her tits jiggle. Saliva pools in my bottom lip. I want to rip that white blouse off and suck those perfect, luscious tits more than I want this law firm, I swear to God. “That’s boring.”

“Did you just stomp your foot?” I ask her, pushing back from the desk to stack my feet on top. Her eyes move to my crotch, now visible. She studies the massive tented bulge before her eyes come to mine, playfulness shining in her pupils.

“Excuse me, Mr. Parker, but what is that?” she points at my crotch while using her free hand to drape over her collarbone, clutching invisible pearls. Using a smaller, quiet voice, one that mimics an adult movie star, she adds, “And does it go inside me if I work really hard? Is that big, hard cock my bonus?”

I’m out of my chair and pulling her from hers in what feels like a split second. With my palm splayed against her throat, her back crushing stacks of files on my desk, I press into her, leaningover her. Her whimpered exhale dusts my lips as I stare down into her wide, hungry eyes.

“Don’t play with me, Winnie. You hear me? You wanna leave your first day with my cum dripping down your thighs, keeping talking that way.”

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