Page 14 of Daddies Dark Desires (Forbidden Fantasies)
And why is he talking so softly?
Low and gruff like nothing I do or say phases him, even though I know it does.
It all lines up with the new budding fantasies I started writing about in my journal during lunch.
Pushing the boundaries with him is also a lot of fun.
Nothing but flaring nostrils as I lean over the edge of his desk to flash him my tits again.
He wants me to be safe.
I know he does.
But he’s got the same overprotective streak that Dad had.
Only without the authority and without the soft love that Dad always folded under.
Still, the strain on Grant’s face isn’t just his resistance to look down my shirt.
He wants me to let him send me home in a car.
But the walk helps me think.
I need to people watch and use my brain before it melts into a puddle on my shoulders.
He lets me go without a fight, but I know this isn’t the end of it.
As soon as I’m outside, the wind hits me, throwing my hair back behind me, and I feel the stress of the boring day start to dissipate.
The sidewalks are full with the after-work rush, and I love the feeling of disappearing into the crowd.
Being one of many.
I could be anyone.
I’m alone so much of the time that these short few moments are the most peaceful I’ve been since I lost my dad.
The train is crowded, but I squeeze in between two older couples.
A grandmotherly type pats my knee, and I smile at her.
Usually, I’m analyzing people by this point, noting every small detail and movement to identify what they do, who they are, where they’re going, and how their day was.
It’s the usual kind of practice that hones my skills. The kind of thing that settles my racing thoughts.
But my mind is already preoccupied.
Daydreams I was barely able to fend off on the walk here flood the forefront of my brain as soon as I sit.
Grant propped behind his desk, in charge, larger than life.
The way his palm smoothed over the polished wood like he might slide it up my knee, under my skirt, between my thighs.
His subconscious couldn’t be completely suppressed, even though he’s one of the most in control men I’ve ever encountered.
He puts my ethics professor to shame.
That man did not flinch.
