Page 2 of Daddy's Little Plaything

But I knew. I knew he wanted to fuck me.

I was about to turn to leave, but before I did, I walked up to his vintage car and let my fingers trail along the polished surface he’d been working on, smearing a bit of grease onto my fingertips.

He glanced at me, watching me silently as I deliberately pressed my hand to my bare thigh.

Daddy stilled.

I felt the tension pouring off of him and heard the sharp inhale of his breath. And when I smeared that grease over my smooth skin, making myself all dirty, I felt my nipples harden further. I felt a gush of wetness in my panties, soaking the silky fabric through, and silently willed m father to lose control and fuck me right here.

He didn’t speak. Didn't move. He stood there looking more tense than I’d ever seen him before. I slowly smiled when he looked back at my face then turned to leave.

I walked back inside, my legs shaking, my pulse pounding.

And I waited for when he would finally break.

And I knew he would.

CHAPTER 2

PHIA

Icouldn’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes as I smeared the grease on my thigh.

I knew I'd pushed him today. Iknewit. And if I were smart, I’d convince myself wanting a sexual relationship with my daddy was the worst of the worst and wrong on every single level.

But I wasn’t smart. Not when it came to him.

The house was quiet when I came downstairs later that night, the wooden floors cool beneath my bare feet. My father had gone to bed hours ago. I didn't miss how he was quieter than normal at dinner or how he barely looked at me.

After today, after I opened Pandora's box with my dad, I couldn’t rest. When I entered the kitchen, I froze, seeing him at the table with a glass of his favorite whiskey front of him.

He was fresh from the shower and shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweats. His back was to me, but I saw the way he stiffened, knowing I was there. I entered the kitchen and took the seat across from him.

Daddy lifted his gaze. The lights were off, so all I could see were shadows and the silvery glow coming through the kitchen window.

I swallowed. “Can’t sleep?” My voice was soft.

His fingers curled around the glass. “No,” he said in a gruff voice, and I realized that wasn’t his first drink of the night. He’d been down here drinking for a while.

The silence between us stretched, thick with something unspoken, my pulse loud in my ears.

He sighed, bringing his drink to his lips and finishing what was in it before setting it back down. And then he was staring at me. “What are you doing, Phia?”

My name sounded different when he said it. Like something dangerous, tempting.

I hesitated before saying, “What do you mean?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You know what I mean.”

I didn't know what to say or how to respond. I felt shy suddenly, not at all brave like I’d been in the garage just earlier.

He exhaled roughly. “We can’t do… this.”

“What’s this?” I asked softly, maybe too quiet for him to hear.

He gripped the table and said in a low, whiskey-laced voice, “I shouldn’t want you.”

My breath hitched.

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