Please Daddy by Dani Wyatt

Chapter 4

Kezia

Iheave a few deep breaths. The scent of the dirt just below my nose is familiar, yet this time the world feels different.

It’s as though the earth is new and the spinning in my head isn’t just from the manic twirling that ends my dance.

It’s because something in the eyes of the sheriff that stood in the crowd sent some odd electrical buzz through me when our gaze connected.

I silently count to fifty, then in perfect sync, I raise my head along with the other dancers and we line up, taking a bow as applause and whistles fill the open air. I glance back into the crowd and see his eyes, still trained on me, and my stomach flips.

Close-cropped deep-sandy-colored hair, perfectly pressed brown-and-beige uniform with a silver badge glinting in the sunlight on a chest thick and wide pulling at the fabric it covers. He’s holding an extra-large coffee in one hand, sipping it as I pretend not to look, but how I wish I knew what his lips felt like sipping on me…

I’m confused, both because I’ve just never felt anything like this and second, I certainly have never felt anything like this for a person in law enforcement. In my world, they are the enemy, and both personal experience, and the stories I’ve been told since I was old enough to remember stories, tells me they are all corrupt. Trust no one outside of the family.

Cops are on the take, just as much as we are. Only, with their uniforms and badges and power, their self-service is condoned. Even accepted.

As the crowd breaks up, instruments from behind me begin to play, signaling the next part of our show. This is the time when the dancers, especially me, are meant to move into the crowd. Smiling and accepting compliments, and tips, distracting mostly the male onlookers that appear to be without female company or young children, while others in our group slip through and help themselves to wallets, money clips, phones…anything of value small enough to fit into the pouches and pockets sewn into their clothing.

The other dancers move away but I’m stuck to the dirt under my bare feet. He’s directly in front of me, exactly where I should be heading.

“What are you doing?” My mother’s voice hisses in my ear. “Get out there.”

A thick hand on my elbow and Thadius urges me forward on a grunt.

“That sheriff is looking at you. You know what to do. Go toward him, be near him…I’ll take it from there.” His baritone voice is just above a whisper and it makes me shiver.

He’s never been violent with me, but I’ve seen his violence with others in our troupe, as well as outsiders, and fear bounces through me whenever he’s this close.

“Yes, sir,” I answer, my training teaching me that any other answer will at best have me on rations again. At worst, time in the box, which for me is the worst of all punishments.

With a knot gripping my stomach, I take a step forward and the hand on my elbow tightens, making me turn toward Thadius.

“Smile,” he grits out, then releases me and a rush of heat floods my limbs.

As I work through the crowd, I pull my lips into a smile and nod and whisper thank you’s to the compliments as I move by, but my focus is in front of me.

The sheriff stands in the same spot, pinning me with his eyes.

The closer I get, the more the warmth rolling inside me takes over and a flutter between my legs adds to the intoxicating moment. I watch as he tightens his lips over his teeth, the deep set of his eyes coming clear. They are a dark green, like moss in a forest, and the muscle in his jaw is hard like he’s gritting his teeth.

There’s less than six feet left between us, and it must be clear I’m walking directly toward him. My eyes pull him in as I’ve been taught, the sway of my hips exaggerated as I set my teeth into my lower lip, adding an eyelash flutter, my training kicking in without conscious thought.

“Hey.” A voice and a hand on my upper arm jolts me from the moment as three males in their late twenties are suddenly blocking my path.

“You do private dances?” One with a Mossy Oak t-shirt and matching ball cap chuckles as his buddies laugh in encouragement, watching him taunt me with a single dollar bill. When I turn, his mouth drops open and he turns to his friends. “You see those freaky eyes?” He returns his stare laughing and running his hand under his nose. “You are a little freak aren’t you? I like ‘em freaky…”

This is not new. They barely tick my pulse up a notch.

“Well, boys.” I nod over my shoulder toward Thadius, shrugging a shoulder to my ear. “You’ll need to talk to my father about that. He books all my private engagements.”

There is shock in their eyes for a moment, then hope.

“Seriously?” The taller of the bunch with a wad of chew in his lip asks, his eyes going from me to his friends, then back. “How much you charge?”

The scent of wet tobacco and beer on his breath is strong enough to trigger my gag reflex.

“You give out free samples?” The shortest of the bunch with a brush cut and a beer gut reaches out toward my shoulder and they all laugh like he’s the headliner at the comedy stage.

I raise my hand to deflect his touch but I’m too late.

My gaze snaps left where a hand intercepts the one reaching for me and I see it’s the sheriff, only now the look in his eyes is not only unfriendly, it’s dangerous. He’s far taller than I first thought. His chest seems to have thickened as his exposed arm bulges and veins snake around the sinuous muscle underneath.

“Hey!” The too dumb for prime-time guy glares at the sheriff. “Don’t touch me.”

“You were about to touch her. And I don’t think that’s what she wanted. So technically, I could arrest you for attempted assault.”

“Bullshit,” he spits back as the sheriff blocks my view, stepping between us, the acrid scent of the other three replaced suddenly by a spicy man-scent that has that quiver between my legs on overdrive and my nipples drilling little holes through the thin fabric of my blouse.

He’s a wall of man, blocking out all three of the others, and I can’t help but drop my eyes lower. His ass fits nicely in the pressed trousers, but he’s not just beefcake. He’s thick, yes, hard but real. A little bulky…burly I guess, like he enjoys his food and doesn’t live life flexing in front of a mirror.

“Listen.” The sheriff’s voice is low as he turns to look at the two friends, his other hand on the leather snap of his holster which holds his gun. “This is a misunderstanding. This is a nice, family event. You three move on and I’ll watch you go. Or, we can do this another way…”

They all grumble and smack each other on the shoulders with a few ‘she ain’t worth it’ and ‘damn freaky medieval-fair dirty pussy, all used up anyway’ as they step away, looking at me like I suddenly turned from beauty to beast in a matter of seconds.

“Watch your mouth,” the sheriff adds as they saunter away, his jawline hard like he’s holding back.

“Thank you,” I say in my best damsel in distress voice, staying in character. “So many men just think they can take without asking.”

He snaps his tongue against his teeth, considering me for a long moment as adrenaline heats my skin. Then he crosses his arms over his wide chest. The dark brown hair covering them shifts with the muscles below and his size is mesmerizing.

He’s probably a father. He has that air about him. I wonder for a second what it would be like to have someone like him as a father.

He looks safe, like you could curl up next to him and know no matter what, he would be the best pillow and protector you could ever want.

“Many men are not as honorable as others.” Thadius’s voice interrupts us, his arm draping over my shoulder. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

The sheriff assesses my father, then nods, one dark eyebrow moving upwards as the eye below narrows. “True and yes.”

“Your coffee did not fare so well.” Thadius nods to the ground and the sheriff turns. My eyes follow and see the large paper coffee cup he was holding laying over on the dirt, a large puddle of dark liquid surrounding. I know that Papa is playing his part now and it’s my job to pick up on his cues.

But right now, all I can do is stare at the sheriff and try to remember my own name.

“Oh well. Set it down to deal with something more important.” He sniffs, turning back to me and his eyes linger a moment on the swell of my breasts as my father’s fingers grip my shoulder.

“My name is Thadius. This is my daughter, Kezia. We are so pleased to have law enforcement here to enjoy our show.”

“That so?” The sheriff considers my father’s overly-friendly demeanor, and I can sense he’s not buying his shtick.

“Yes, of course. I thank you for intervening for Kezia. As you might imagine, she is the source of much grief for a father like me.” He chuckles but it just makes me cold because I know it’s an act. “Let me at least buy you a coffee.”

“It’s not necessary,” the sheriff answers, and part of me is disappointed. I want to keep this connection going even if it’s more acting than honesty.

“Oh, course it is. Kezia adores Starbucks and rarely has the opportunity. We are simple folks, so many things most take for granted are luxuries to us. Here…” He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a twenty-dollar bill, handing it to me. “She deserves a break as well.” My father places his hand on his chest with a dramatic bow of his head. “I entrust you with my daughter, good sir. If you will do me the honor of taking her for a coffee, and replace yours as well. It’s her favorite guilty pleasure, one I rarely allow. A demonstration of thanks for your concern on her behalf.”

Wow. He is good. He appeals to the sheriff’s sense of honor and trust, as well as making him think he’s giving me something special. My father knows his stuff. I’m not so much a Starbucks fan to be honest, but I know the drill and play along.

If the sheriff had been drinking a chocolate Milkshake from McDonald’s, that would have been my favorite thing. It’s all just clues and opportunity.

I see the veins in the sheriff’s forehead thicken as he takes a slow breath, filling the front of his chest as he ponders.

He swallows, exhales and drops his hands, his thumbs hooking into the heavy leather belt around his waist, then answers. “On one condition.”

“Anything,” Papa replies, another ceremonious bow, from his waist this time.

“I’m buying.”

“Very well. I need just one moment with my daughter before you go…family business.”

The sheriff’s eyes are flat but he raises his eyebrows in agreement and I already know what’s coming as my father guides me by the elbow until we are out of earshot.

“We have two days left here. You will do your job, keep his interest but do not allow him your virtue. Tease, play, lead him on…keep him under your thumb and distracted. Make him believe we are simple performers, do not take anything from him.”

My stomach knots, I hate when he makes me do these things. “But…” I start, but he waves at the sheriff, false humor in his eyes as he looks back at me, cutting me off.

“You will be relieved of your responsibilities for the next two hours. Your most important performance right now is to keep that sheriff on a leash, or you’re on rations or worse. Go, get your coffee, work your magic, dangle the prize in his face, then return here, but not before you make sure you secure seeing him for the day tomorrow. We need him out of the way, thinking of anything but his job. Now go and do your job.”