Chapter 10: Daddy’s Girl

33

Erica’s plan wasn’t the kind she could jump into all at once. She had to go step by step, dipping her toe in at first. This phase started — well, it had started with getting dressed that morning, but it escalated now.

Thursday afternoon. Mom was at yoga. Jimmy had gone out with his girlfriends — unknown to Erica, he was learning significant things about their mother. Erica had come straight home from school ... so she and her working-from-home father were the only ones in the house.

She took a deep breath. She steeled her nerves. She straightened her skirt. And she knocked on the door. “Daddy? Can you help me with my math homework?”

“Sure thing, pumpkin, come on in.” He spun his desk chair to face her as the door opened. “What do you have for me today? Polynomials, trigonome ... try...?” He faded out as something caught his eye.

This was the moment of truth. This would show whether Erica’s plan was crazy enough to work, or just crazy. According to what she’d overheard, there was some kind of skirt her father liked.

So she had worn her shortest school skirt and hiked it as high as she reasonably could.

The idea was simple: if he was looking at Erica’s legs, he wasn’t looking at Allison’s. If he could get his ‘satisfaction’ within the family, he wouldn’t need to look elsewhere at all.

If.

The way he’d trailed off, the complex look on his face. She wasn’t sure if she’d caught his attention or if he was about to kindly (but firmly) tell her to put some pants on.

Patrick was torn.

If he said anything, that would mean admitting that he’d noticed Erica’s skirt. And was there even anything to notice? It was a uniform skirt. If she’d worn it to school, it must have been enough for regulations, right?

Yes, it seemed tiny to him. Even tinier than the skirts the girls had worn back in his high school days. It made him think of that time — and think of those beautiful teen girls. He’d never been bold enough to approach them back when he’d been a teenage boy. It made him think of what he’d missed out on.

But it was probably just him. It was just a skirt.

He pulled his eyes off and smiled at her. “Um, what do you have?”

Erica’s heart raced until she was dizzy. He looked. Even as she pulled up a chair, even as they started working, he stole little peeks downwards.

She was no stranger to boys looking at her, or even full-grown men. But this was her own father. She’d come up with the plan, but she hadn’t known how it would feel if she succeeded.

She ... liked it. Looking at her with that attraction, it felt like he saw her as a woman. It felt like she was growing up, and more than that, it felt like he noticed.

Funny, the layers of meaning you could read from the right person eyeing your thighs.

She wanted more. Without taking her eyes off the books, she slid across and into her father’s lap.

Patrick went tense. His hands froze, resting neutrally on the desk. “Uh, princess?”

“This way, we can both see better.” Erica’s voice was smooth like honey. “That’s not a problem, is it? I’ve been in your lap before.”

“Yes, but...” But that had been years ago. She’d been a child. She had not been so... nubile. The warmth, the weight, the feeling of her so close by was ... distracting. Her strawberry perfume got in his head.

He was getting hard. She could feel it poking into her lower back. She was so sexy that her own father was getting hard for her.

But ... soon, she was out of homework questions, and thus out of excuses to interrupt his work. She didn’t want to, but she had to leave his lap.

Just for a little while.

34

Her next chance was Saturday morning. Jimmy and Mom had each gone out — to different places, Erica assumed — so she again had her father all to herself.

That thought brought a shiver and a sense of heat that it never had before.

She got in ahead. First with how she dressed, yes, wearing her shortest and tightest skirt and long, soft socks to better decorate. Second with the movie she set up in the living room. It felt so deliciously risky; she’d have to make sure she cleaned up, unlike whoever had left Surprise Visit laying around. Anticipation had her as tense as a guitar string; she couldn’t stand to wait.

Thankfully, Daddy was all caught up on work and he came downstairs right on schedule. A blush painted across his cheeks, growing hotter every time he had to yank his eyes away from that thin strip of her bare thigh.

Intoxicating. That look on his face took the edge off her craving, so she could stand to sit beside him instead of throwing herself into his lap. She could wait. Just a little while.

It didn’t take long for the movie to make him squirm, with its beautiful women and shockingly abbreviated Catholic schoolgirl costumes. “I...” He fidgeted back, stammering. “I-I thought we were going to watch some kind of superhero movie. What ... what is this?”

“It’s called Dirty Detention. I borrowed it from Vegas.” Erica leaned in close to that warmth emanating from his cheeks, like a moth heading towards a flame. So close that she only had to whisper — and thrill when she saw how her tickling breath made him tremble. “What’s wrong, Daddy? The movie’s not making you... uncomfortable, is it?” She lay a hand on his lap.

Patrick went rigid in more ways than one, and he froze up entirely at her touch. It ... that couldn’t be happening. “What are you doing.” He couldn’t bring himself to push her away or even to raise his voice to his dear daughter.