Boss's Bratty Daughter

Abigail Mac lets out a rough sigh. 'You're the third office drone she sent me today.' She throws her voice like she just cannot fucking believe it. 'Mom loves sending other people to do her dirty work. Perfect. Just fucking perfect.' Casey looks ready to bite through steel. 'Yeah. Sounds just like her.' Then she glances at the phone in her hand. 'Can I go back there, take care of this, and get out of your hair?' Another over-the-top sigh from Abigail. 'Fine. Make it fast.' Her hand waves toward the hall like she is brushing dirt off a jacket. Casey disappears. Abigail drops onto the couch, already scrolling, irritated at the very fact someone is breathing in her house. A beat later the corner of her mouth lifts. Trouble, coming right up. Casey returns. Abigail brightens. 'Let me take a quick picture,' she says, patting the cushion. 'You look like my friend.' Casey eyes her sideways but sits anyway. The flash is bright, almost blinding, but it is not the photo that makes Casey jolt. It is Abigail's mouth, hot and sudden against her own, the camera still snapping while lips press and a tongue slips in. Abigail pulls back smiling. 'She'll love this.' Casey stiffens, trying hard to be calm. 'Look. Your mom can be a nightmare, I know, but I need the job. She treats everyone like shit. That is just reality. Waving this at her will not help anybody. Maybe we both just deal with it.' Abigail's eyes narrow. 'Do not talk down to me. I am nineteen, legal, adult, and done being her errand. Just like you are done with it. Unless you enjoy being bossed around?' Casey breathes through her nose. She needs this paycheck. The words slip out before she thinks. 'If I agree... If you just delete that thing...' Abigail's smile grows fangs. 'Delete the pic for a fuck? Deal.' She grabs Casey's shirt with both hands and hauls it upward. The fabric peels over Casey's tits, nipples already tight. Abigail's hands are quick after that, rough and sure, knuckles brushing skin, lips claiming mouth again like she is starving. Casey digs nails into the back of Abigail's neck and kisses back just as hard, hips already pressing forward. She still hates the mess this will make, yet every move tells her she wants this, too.