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Bad Daddy: Dirty Little Secret Duet book 1

Page 2

by J. D. Hollyfield


  I cock my head for another inspection. His cheeky grin has my lips curving upward. “Are you allowed to dance with students?”

  He waggles his brows. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  Jesus. I can’t tell if that’s corny or cute. His blue eyes have me leaning toward cute. The goal tonight was to find a guy more my age. I’m not sure working out my sexual frustration on my psych professor is any better than lusting after my roommate’s dad. He sways his hips obnoxiously, and I choke out a laugh. “If that’s how you dance, no.”

  He grins wide, his white teeth on display, and chuckles. “Right. I wouldn’t either. So, what do ya say? One dance? I won’t keep you out there too long. You probably have lots of homework to get to.”

  What a weirdo. I grant him an eye roll, but give him my hand, allowing him to escort me into the sea of gyrating bodies. People pulse around us, forcing us closer. My breasts press against his chest, and my shyness returns, making it hard to keep eye contact. He’s extremely good looking. He smells like aftershave and beer, and his hands gripping my hips send flutters down to my toes. We sway to the music. Letting the rhythm take hold, I spin around and grind into him, my back against his chest, my ass against his swelling cock. His hands ride up my stomach, stopping just below my breasts, then skate back down my sides to grip my hips again, pulling me harder against him. His head tilts forward, allowing his warm breath to skate along my neck. Need vibrates through me. I spin again and wrap my arms around his neck, bringing him closer, inhaling more of him. He pulls me snug against his body. I’m two seconds away from asking him to take me back to his place when Hazel ruins it.

  “Hey, girl. We gotta head out.” Missing is her easy-going smile.

  I pull back, catching her flushed cheeks. “Everything okay? I thought you were with—”

  “I was—until—I just don’t feel so hot. Can we go?” She turns her focus to the guy wrapped around me. “Hey…don’t I know you?”

  We both laugh, but he allows me to break away from him. “Hazel, this is Jim. Jim, Hazel.”

  “Hey, cool, so can we go?” My achy, in-need-of-attention vagina tells her no. But girl code has me telling Jim I’ll see him on Monday.

  Hazel is quiet the entire walk home. The moment we get back to our room I ask, “So, what happened back there with the physics guy? He seemed like a nice guy.”

  She huffs and throws herself on my bed. “It wasn’t him. It was… nothing. Can we not talk about it?”

  I offer her a long stare before I let it go. “Sure.”

  “Thanks. Anywho, enough about me! How was the rest of your night? Who was the guy? I swear he looks familiar.”

  “Because he is. He’s our psych professor—”

  The words are barely off my tongue before she screams and falls off my bed. “What did you just say to me?”

  I chuckle, heading to my closet to change into my pajamas. “You heard me. I guess he’s a first-year professor, so he’s still kind of young. Lives off-campus and attends the college parties that don’t affect his job. Asked me if I wanted to dance, and I said yes. I was hoping we would bump privates, but then you broke it up before anything could happen.”

  Hazel rolls off the floor with a groan. “Oh, man, I’m so sorry. You should have said something! Did you want to go back? Are your privates mad at me?” We drunk giggle and she sits up, grabbing for her desk chair. “Let’s totally Google him.” She climbs onto her chair and opens her laptop. “What’s my dad still doing up?”

  “Huh?” I twist around too fast, dizzying myself, and almost fall back into my closet. I manage to pull my shirt over my head and steady myself.

  “My dad. He’s online. I’m calling.”

  “Uh…you’re drunk. You sure that’s a good idea?” Before she has the chance to second guess it, her dad pops on the screen.

  “Dad! What are you doing up? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” I try to block out his voice, but the moment the tone of his alluring voice hits my eardrums, my legs weaken.

  “Hey, baby girl. Shouldn’t I say the same for you?” There’s a short pause. “Hazel, have you been drinking?” His voice drops an octave. He’s not happy his daughter’s clearly drunk.

  “Nooo…maybe. Come on, Dad. It’s college. Violet and I just got home from our first college party!”

  I don’t realize I’m staring at the screen until his gaze breaks from his daughter to me. His eyes sear through me, and I fall straight back into my fantasy of right and wrong. A warmth pools low in my belly. My nipples harden. My knees weaken, and I fall to the ground out of sight, groaning. I was standing in front of him in my bra—again.

  “Hazel, I didn’t send you there to drink. You should both be smarter.” Maybe you should come give me a spanking, I think to myself and chuckle. Okay, maybe I’ve had a little too much to drink.

  “We were being smart! I was an angel, and Violet hit it off with our psych professor!” She starts to laugh, and I want to die.

  “What do you mean ‘hit it off’? A professor? What kind of party was this?” He says through clenched teeth. His voice is harsh, and I close my eyes, imagining his low growl humming over my sex. “One of you going to answer me?”

  “Dad, it’s fine. He was a total gentleman…well, from what I saw. Violet, was he a gentleman? My dad wants to know.”

  I want to crawl into a hole. Maybe if I stay quiet, they’ll think I fell asleep and—

  “I want an answer, or I’m heading up there first thing—”

  I pop up so fast. “Complete gentleman. Offered me a nice dance, and I was ripped away before he could take me home. The end. Goodnight, Mr. Winters!” Why is your dad so fucking hot! My voice cracks at the end, and I fall back down before I make an attempt to lick Hazel’s laptop screen. I grunt in pain because sexual frustration exists.

  Hazel wishes her dad a good night, and when he tells her sweet dreams, I allow myself to pretend his tender words are meant for me as I pass out halfway in my closet.

  Violet

  College and partying are hard. I’m not sure how people juggle both because I spent half my weekend nursing a stupid hangover. Hazel bounced right back, claiming years of drinking her dad’s stash had prepared her for this. I, on the other hand, could barely function. By the time the weekend ends, I finally feel like myself again, and manage to catch up on homework and sleep. What I’m not prepared for is seeing Jim. Or…Professor Wells. Do I call him Professor Wells or just Jim? My head spins with indecisiveness when we walk in. He’s at the front of the lecture hall, writing on the board. I hurry to find Hazel sitting three rows up before he notices me.

  “Hey. What’s the deal? You gonna talk to him?”

  I toss my bag down, stuffing it under my chair. I didn’t expect my nerves to get so rattled seeing him again. “Will you lower your voice? I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t remember me.” Oh god, how embarrassing would that be? That suggestion dies fast when he faces the class, his eyes searching the room. The moment they land on me, his cheeky smile spreads across his face.

  “Yeah, he remembers.” Hazel laughs, sitting back in her chair as I fumble with my notebook. Professor…Jim starts the lecture. I try to push the memory of his hands on me to the back of my mind and focus on taking notes.

  Finally, class ends and everyone begins to shuffle out. I gather my things into my backpack, and Hazel and I stand to leave when I hear my name. “Violet, can I speak to you for a minute?”

  “Uh oh. Someone’s been a bad student. Better get ready for your spanking,” Hazel teases. I nudge her, and she waves me off, telling me she’ll see me at home. I bite the inside of my cheek, reining in my nerves as the last student exits the lecture hall. When the door closes, he angles his body toward me and smiles wide.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” He stands with his hands tucked away in his pockets.

  His cheeky grin makes me fidgety, and my hands suddenly start to tug at my shirt. “Great. So great. And you?” Wow, that couldn’t have sounded any lamer.


  “Good. Same. How was class today?” Okay, maybe I’m not the only nervous one. “Yeah, that was a strange thing to ask. Sorry. It’s just…I don’t make it a habit to pick up students at parties, and it’s technically frowned upon, but I enjoyed you—liked you…you know what I mean.”

  I’m enjoying his nervousness. It allows me not to feel so shy. “I did too.”

  His eyes light up. “You did! Good! So…well, I was thinking…maybe we can grab a bite to eat sometime.”

  He just asked me out. Shit…

  “Or not. If it’s not appropriate.”

  “No! I mean, yes. I mean…sure.” I mentally facepalm.

  “Great, so maybe this—”

  “Excuse me, Professor Wells?” a tiny brunette interrupts us, and he shuts down, going into teacher mode. I take that as my goodbye, wave to his back, and head home. I’m not sure how I feel about what just transpired. I’m happy he asked me out. He’s cute and quirky, and I think he would be a great solution to release my sexual frustration, but my purpose for finding that cure was to find someone more my age. More appropriate. More…not so taboo and naughty and so, so wrong for me. My mood goes from high to low as I trek back to the dorms, unsure where I go from here. My safest option is to hit up a sex shop and buy everything that vibrates. When I get back to the dorm, Hazel is in the shower. I settle in, smelling the huge bouquet of roses sitting on her desk. Since I’m nosy, I open the card and read it.

  Behave, or I’m coming up there and setting you straight.

  -Dad

  Oh, I wish he would. I’m so fucking horny and confused—and horny! First world problems. I throw myself onto my bed, needing a long nap. Hazel’s computer starts ringing, and I pop my head up. It can only be one person calling.

  Do I answer it? Let it go to voicemail? I’m climbing out of bed even while my brain tells me to sit the hell back down and definitely let it go to voicemail. But when have I ever been known to do the right thing? My finger hovers over the keyboard one last second until I accept his call and his gorgeous face fills the screen.

  “Hey, baby—”

  Surprise spreads across his face. The color of the deepest ocean disappears behind his dilated pupils. “Violet…” My name in that husky tone rolls off his tongue.

  “Hi, Mr. Winters. Hazel’s in the shower. Do you want me to have her call you when she’s out?”

  He looks so appetizing in his fancy suit, the first two buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned. I fight not to lick the screen. Why does her dad have to be so hot? And enticing? And on my mind constantly?

  “I was calling to see if she got my flowers.” The way he’s watching me, it’s as if he’s asking me if I got my flowers. A tickle in my belly has me crossing my legs.

  “Yeah, she got them. They’re beautiful.”

  “Good. I’m glad you like them. Did she read the card?” His exquisite voice holds so much power and dominance. I bet he’s the take-no-prisoners kind in the business world too. It’s probably why they’re so wealthy.

  “Yep. Behave, or you’re coming to unload lots of spankings.” Why, Violet, why? Darkness overshadows his eyes, and his lips thin. Which they should. That was very inappropriate. “So, want me to have her call you?”

  “Tell me more about this psychology professor of yours.”

  Huh? How does he—oh yeah. Friday night’s drunk call. Shit. “Oh, it’s nothing. I doubt it will go anywhere.”

  “Good. It shouldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  Mr. Winters leans back in his large office chair, rubbing at the back of his neck. He looks tired, probably overworked. “Because he shouldn’t be bothering you. You’re young and easily manipulated.”

  Ahhh, there’s the shot to the heart. A quick pop of my fantasy bubble. Too young. And here I am, thinking Heath could possibly be into me. Maybe it’s just me trying too hard and overthinking too much. Or maybe this is me truly becoming what my mother always pinged me as. A temptress.

  “Well, I’m not sure age is an issue. He seemed very interested in me and asked me out after class today.” I’m not sure why I revealed that information. Trying to make a middle-aged man jealous only further proves what a temptress I am.

  “And what did you say?” His intense stare holds me captive. My mouth suddenly feels dry, and I’m not sure whether to be truthful or lie.

  I shrug off the weirdness and go with the truth. “I told him yeah, why not. He seems like a nice guy. Not sure what we’re doing is all around legal, but I’ll give it a try.” His silence makes me squirmy. When he still doesn’t say anything, words start falling out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I don’t know. I feel like he would be good. Fun. I like the excitement of knowing we’re possibly doing something wrong. A bit forbidden. He has a nice smile and smells good.” Hang up, Violet.

  He’s still lip-locked. My only hope is the screen froze, and he didn’t hear a word I said.

  “Do you think he would know how to take care of you in the ways you need?”

  So much for thinking he didn’t hear me. His question catches me off guard. I can hear an underlying message in it. Am I crazy and reading too much into this? His eyes are smoldering. He licks his bottom lip, his thumb rubbing against his chin. My eyes fall to his lips, then follow his thumb as it trails back and forth. My sex swells. All I want is for him to put his thumb in my mouth and make me gag on it as if it were his—

  “I don’t think he would have the slightest idea about what I want or need.”

  The truth falls from my lips. There’s a short pause as his expression turns dark. “Tell Hazel to call me.”

  He hangs up.

  Fuck.

  Heath

  I take a sip of the most expensive bourbon they sell here, enjoying the smoothness as it travels down my throat. Exquisite, the elite private sex lounge, is quiet tonight, give or take some working girls and business associates. This place typically calms me. Even if I’m not in the mood to play, I enjoy the view and a nice glass of bourbon. But tonight, I’m wound tight and in a shit mood.

  “I’m thinking of taking up a new girl.” My oldest friend, Gabriel, sits beside me with a cigar in hand, his eyes locked on a girl dancing in the corner.

  “What happened to your old one? You break her already?” I laugh. I may have a sick fetish with my daughter’s roommate, but nothing compares to Gabriel’s disturbing hobbies.

  “She doesn’t shine like she used to. It’s time to replace her.”

  I shake my head, taking another sip of my drink. “You know, that shit is going to catch up to you one day. Some may consider your tastes borderline illegal.” He is one sadistic motherfucker.

  “Enough about me. What has you all wound tight? Looking for a woman to take all your problems away?”

  “More like a girl the same age as my fucking daughter.” Why did I just admit that? Maybe I’ve had too much to drink.

  “Ahhh, now you’re speaking my language. Do tell.”

  My hands drag down my face. Am I really going here with this? “What’s there to tell? Hazel has a roommate who makes my blood boil. Just the sound of her voice makes me want to drive my cock down her throat. She’s fucking eighteen, man, and I can’t stop thinking about ripping her in two. Jesus, I’ve lost my mind. I need to get some pussy. That’s my problem. Ignore me.” I slam the rest of my glass, calling for the waitress to bring me a refill.

  “Then what’s stopping you?” Gabe asks.

  “Stopping me from what?”

  “Fucking her? What’s stopping you? Is she willing?”

  My dick hardens just thinking about her. Yeah, she’s willing all right. There’s no hiding the way she gazes at me. Like a hungry feline ready and willing for the tall glass of milk, that glass being my cock. I groan. “I can’t.”

  “Why? Afraid she won’t like your taste in sex? They all submit sooner or later. Some don’t know what they want until you introduce them to it. Young and eager. Sounds like the jackpot to me.”
/>   Says the sadist who thrives on pain for pleasure. “No. I mean, I can’t. Not only is she way too young, but she’s also Hazel’s roommate. That’s just all-around fucked up. I’m not a fucking asshole.”

  “But you are a man with needs. Why don’t you grab that woman over there? She’s prancing her cunt all over the place, wanting someone to shove something fat inside her. Go play with her. Release all the aggression you have on your little crush. Pretend it’s her. These women don’t care what you call them. Get it out of your system with the real one or use that woman. But do something. Your grumpy attitude is becoming unbearable.”

  Violet

  It’s pretty late when Hazel’s laptop starts to chime with an incoming FaceTime call. I can’t help but peer at her screen. He’s calling back. I look at the time. It’s almost midnight. Hazel is down the hall watching a movie with the other girls. I shouldn’t answer it.

  “Hey, Mr. Winters. Sorry, Hazel’s not home.” Why am I lying? I could easily go fetch her. But there’s this urge inside me. This damn itch. A crazy fantasy that keeps me up at night. I should not act on it…but what if he bites?

  “Oh, shame,” is all he says. He doesn’t end the call, which only encourages me more. I’ve done nothing but think about his questions, wondering if he believes he could pleasure me. My skin is suddenly too hot, and the thin layer of clothes I’m wearing too heavy. I can’t stop thinking about him. What he would feel like. How naughty he would be if I let him touch me in the most inappropriate places.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Winters?” I ask, my voice humming with desire. I’m overly aroused. Just listening to him breathe is getting me off. My internal battle begs for him to ask me to take my shirt off. Touch myself for him. Fuck myself while wishing it was his finger—his cock—giving me pleasure. My cheeks instantly flush. I know he can decipher what I’m thinking. His eyes deepen to a dark shade. There’s no denying he’s just as turned on as me.

 

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