One Hot Daddy: A Single Dad Next Door Romance

by Kira Blakely

  “That’s enough, Father. There is no need for this,” I said and stepped in between Bonnie and him.

  “We’re just having a chat, son,” Father said, completely unconcerned that his words had just destroyed my chances with Bonnie. That had probably been his intent.

  “Leave, now. I’ve made the donation. Your work here is done. Take your whore and get out of here before I drag you out myself,” I growled under my breath. He looked small, leathery and old, and I was mad enough to want to physically hurt him.

  “I’m your father, Nash,” he said in a prideful voice, staring up at me.

  “You’ve reminded me of that a million times. Now get the fuck out,” I said, and the woman pulled at his sleeve.

  “We are going to talk about it in my office tomorrow morning, Nash,” he said through gritted teeth, leaning in toward me.

  “It’s my office now, Father. And no, I will not be paying you a visit in your retirement home tomorrow morning. You can forget about it,” I snapped at him, just seconds before the woman pulled him away from me.

  When I turned around, I found that Bonnie wasn’t behind me anymore. A wave of memory hit me when I saw her weaving through the crowds, hurrying away. Only this time, she wasn’t wearing a shimmering red dress, and she was definitely running away from me.

  Bonnie

  A showroom? They were going to tear my building down and convert it into an electronics store? And my code! The code I had spent so much time writing, perfecting, with a clear aim in mind. They were going to use it for stupid online games?

  I didn’t know where I was going; all I knew was that I had to get away from Nash. Where were my employees going to go? What degrading work were they going to make them do? They had bought us out to destroy us. Not to continue our ideas. I was ready to break down and cry. I should have known all this was too good to be true. I should have known that Nash Preston was always going to be a big mistake.

  The cool night breeze slapped my face as I burst out through the back doors of the ballroom. I realized I was out in the garden, which was unlit and noisy with the sounds of crickets. I kept running, not sure of where my feet were carrying me. This was too surreal. I had made a huge mistake by putting my faith in Nash. Once again, I was left humiliated and insulted, running away from him.

  “Bonnie, stop!” I heard his voice behind me, but I didn’t stop. I wasn’t just going to do whatever he wanted. I was panting now. My chest felt tight with emotions. My mind was spinning from the events of the night. I had been so foolish.

  “Bonnie, just stop!” he cried out again. He caught up to me and whipped me around to face him.

  “When were you going to tell me? Huh? When were you going to tell me what you had planned?” I spat out the words.

  He looked so handsome in the moonlight, and despite myself, I felt goose bumps on my flesh. I knew I was weak around him, which was why I wanted to get away from him. I didn’t want to look at him ever again.

  “Just give me a moment to explain. Stop running,” he said as I tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

  “Let me go!” I hissed at him.

  He dropped his hands away from me, raising up his palms and taking a step back. “All right. All right. Just don’t run again, okay?” he said in his usual calm steady voice. What would it take to make Nash Preston lose his cool?

  I glared at him, with my breasts heaving. I had forgotten about the necklace and suddenly I tried to snatch it away from my throat.

  “God. Bonnie! Just keep it on for now. You can take it off later if you want to,” Nash said, focusing his deep gray eyes on me. I was still panting, and I gulped, flaring my nostrils at him.

  “What could you possibly explain to me, Nash? What excuse are you going to come up with? Your father is right. You invited me here, you bought me this necklace because you’re guilty about what you’re doing,” I snapped.

  Nash stood with his feet apart, clasping his hands in front of him. He didn’t take his eyes off me once. He did a good job of not portraying himself as the guilty party. “First of all, Bonnie, I invited you here because I wanted you here. And I bought that necklace because I had to buy something. I was going to donate three million dollars to the cause anyway, and the necklace looked like a good bargain for it.”

  “Why did you give it to me? Why me?” I blurted out, rage coursing through my veins.

  “Because I wanted to. Not out of guilt, not to appease you, but because I wanted the necklace to belong to you,” he said with a straight face. It still wasn’t making any sense to me.

  “Forget the necklace, Nash. When were you going to tell me about your little plan?” I lashed at him, and he took in a deep breath.

  “Never. I didn’t intend on ever telling you,” he replied, in a quiet calm voice.

  “Excellent. You were just going to seduce me, throw me away and then never tell me what you were going to do with my company,” I said, shaking my head at him in rage and disbelief.

  “No, I wasn’t going to tell you because I’ve changed my plans,” he said, dragging his words out as he watched my reaction.

  Nothing he was saying made sense to me. I was confused and dizzy and also slightly drunk by now. I had no idea what to think of anything he was saying, or whether to believe him.

  “What do you mean you’ve changed your plans? What plans?” I asked, my voice relaxing a bit. A glimmer of hope was dawning, but I didn’t want to be too quick to make assumptions. Look at where all these assumptions had led me.

  “Those plans. About the showroom and the online games. I’ve change my mind. I don’t want to do any of them.” He took a few steps toward me, but I stepped away from him. I needed to think clearly, and I couldn’t do so as long as Nash remained close to me.

  “But your father said that you had no use for any of it, any of my codes.” My voice had dropped to a whimper. I was so close to crying. Every time I heard Luther Preston’s voice, his laugh in my ears, I was ready to collapse from outrage and insult.

  “My father doesn’t run the company anymore, Bonnie, I do,” he said, and our eyes met again. He was studying my face, and I was studying his. I didn’t want to trust him just yet, I didn’t want to fall for his charm again.

  “So, what will you do instead?” I managed to ask, very close to tears again. Did I really want to hear what he had to say now? I could only expect the worst.

  “Like I said before, I want you to come and work for me,” Nash said flatly. He still wasn’t smiling though and thankfully he was keeping his distance from me.

  “Work for you? How does that solve the problem? This isn’t just about me. It’s about my company and my employees, too,” I screamed. I was so volatile that I knew every little thing he said could set me off.

  But Nash remained calm, regarding me with a steady gaze. “Work for me, and work for your company. Do the same thing you’ve been doing,” he replied and now I could see how his eyes danced. He was excited with his own idea, and he expected me to react accordingly. But honestly, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Just minutes ago, I was convinced that Nash Preston’s family business was ready to destroy my old company.

  “You want me to just carry on as before?” I blurted out, and my hand flew to my mouth.

  “You were doing good work,” he nodded, “and I want you to keep doing it. As long as you get your final sign offs from me, you’re free to operate as you did before.”

  Nash Preston had just complimented me for my good work. As much as I enjoyed his mouth on mine, his fingers deep inside me and watching him come, I still didn’t expect to see this side of him. In college, I was attracted to the bad boy Nash, the alpha male. That innate instinct to turn a bad guy into a good guy was probably what drove all my fantasies. And was it actually happening now? Was Nash turning a new leaf suddenly? Or had I always just misjudged him?

  I gulped, still in shock. I wanted to burst out laughing, because again, this was too good to be true. But Nash looked serious. He look
ed like he meant business.

  “And what about… the showroom and the—” I began, but he interrupted me.

  “Those were my father’s ideas, and I went along with them at the time. But now I’ve changed my mind. I want to go down a different route,” he said and stepped closer to me.

  I didn’t step away, because now all I wanted to do was throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. He had made me happier with this than any diamond necklace could make me. And this offer I could definitely accept.

  “And I get to keep all my employees? And my office building?” I asked, biting down on my lip excitedly. I was like a kid in an amusement park, and when Nash nodded his head, I cupped my mouth with both my hands. There were fat happy tears in my eyes and Nash was smiling, too.

  “I can see you’re happy. Do you accept my offer?” he asked, drawing closer to me. I looked up at his face, smiling wide at him.

  “Yes, of course I do. If that means I get to keep doing what I was doing, work on my code, work with the others… there’s nothing more I could want,” I said, in a rushed anxious whisper. My heart was beating fast again, this time out excitement and joy.

  “Good, you should bring Peter back, too,” he said, laughing at me.

  I nodded my head and smiled. Peter would be so happy to hear it. His family would be so relieved.

  “And what about your father? Won’t it piss him off?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I looked into his face.

  Nash looked calm and composed on the outside, but I knew it couldn’t be easy for him. To go against his father. I had seen firsthand the kind of control his father had on him.

  “Fuck him. He forced this on me, and I’m going to do what I want with it,” Nash said, leaning closer to me.

  I laughed and threw my arms around his neck. He drew me closer, kissing me. Our lips met and electric current ran down my spine. This kiss was soft and gentle, like we were kissing for the first time, like we were teenagers. I knew what I wanted to do, but I didn’t know what he wanted. His tongue was in my mouth as I kissed him back. Then he drew away from me.

  “Maybe we should get out of this place,” he said, staring into my eyes.

  I was falling for him again, falling for him hard. Nash was good at convincing me to trust him.

  “And go where?” I asked, looking around the garden. My heart was racing. I didn’t want to presume too quickly, but getting out of here could only mean one thing. And I was ready to do anything with Nash. And I was sure he could see it in my eyes, too, how desperate I was for him.

  “To my place,” he said and I saw how he clenched his jaws. My brows furrowed as I looked at him. Something told me that Nash Preston didn’t usually invite girls to his place. He looked like he was still deciding if it was the right decision.

  “Yes,” I said in the quietness of the garden, staring back at him confidently.

  This was what I had wanted since college. This was what I’d fantasized about since I met him. Now there was no escaping the truth. I didn’t care what he thought of me; I wanted him, tonight.

  Bonnie

  Nash’s chauffeur drove us to his home, and the moment my heels touched the gravel that covered the driveway, it was all I could to stop myself from gasping.

  His home was a mansion, a rich red brick estate that went far beyond what my eyes could see. Or maybe it was just too dark. Either way, I looked around in awe as Nash led me up the steps to the front door. I couldn’t believe I was foolish enough to compliment the garden at the country club earlier. The gardens that surrounded Nash’s mansion were definitely far more elaborate. A waft of summer flowers carried to me in the breeze and it made me heady, a little weak in my knees.

  Such splendid opulence. I drew in a breath as he led me into his house. A low-hanging crystal chandelier greeted us in the foyer, where a uniformed man held the door open for us. Nash’s home was designed and decorated in a style quite different from his office. While his office was modern and minimalistic, his home was more art-deco and regal.

  “This house belonged to my mother’s family,” Nash said in a voice that jerked me out of my thoughts. I breathed in and turned to him, my eyes bright and amazed. He could probably see it on my face; I was floored.

  “Come with me, Bonnie,” he said and began climbing up the long winding staircase.

  I felt like I was in a dream again. He was leading me up to his bedroom, and I followed, willing and excited. Even a week ago, I would have never imagined that I would be in Nash Preston’s home.

  I held on to the skirt of my dress as I followed him upstairs. Thickly carpeted floors muffled the clicking of my heels as Nash led me down a long corridor. At the end, he held the door open and I stepped in, my heart beating out of my chest.

  It was a gorgeous room, decorated in an old Georgian style. The walls were a rich teal, dotted with gold light fixtures that once upon a time had carried candles. His bedroom was large enough to house a reading space in the corner, with its own coffee table and four chairs. A four-poster bed adorned the center, with lace trimmings hanging from the top, covering the bed as though it was in its own delicate tent. A fireplace remained dark on one wall, and the mantelpiece carried all of Nash’s old basketball trophies.

  “Why don’t you display them in your living room?” I asked, walking over to run my fingertips across them. I knew about each of them, the ones he had gotten in college. I kept a vigilant yet well concealed eye on all his victories. Without attending a single game, I knew exactly when Nash Preston had led his team to victory. And he almost always won.

  “I don’t feel the need to, and I don’t entertain as often as you think,” Nash said behind me. I turned to find him standing with his hands in his pockets. He had loosened his bowtie so that it fell in two pieces around his neck now.

  “You suit this room, Bonnie,” he said, coming closer to me.

  “Only with this necklace on,” I said with a laugh. But my laughter was cut quickly short, when Nash placed a hooked finger under my chin. He was gently raising my face up toward him.

  “With or without the necklace, Bonnie. You look stunning,” he said and took my breath away. He was kissing me again, a soft gentle kiss like the one in the garden before we left.

  My hands were on his shoulders, and his were on my waist. I was breathless from his kiss, and reeled under the pleasure of having his tongue in my mouth. He was taking his time, taking it slow. The rushed orgasms we’d had on the balcony were now replaced by gentleness. But I was burning up inside.

  His hand found the zipper on the side of my dress and he pulled it down. My fingers found the buttons on his shirt. While we kissed, I fumbled with them till his chest was revealed. I gasped against his lips while I felt his skin, smooth and taut under my touch. A soft smattering of dark hair covered the center, and I ran my fingers through it. His chest was wide, like his shoulders, and I could finally touch his abs now. Strong, sculpted and more perfect that I had imagined they would be.

  Nash pulled me closer, and my dress was slipping away, down my torso, to my waist. I felt his fingers weave through my long golden hair. Suddenly, he bunched up a fistful and tilted my head with a steady grip.

  “I’m going to enjoy this, Bonnie. I’ve waited too long,” he said in a deep throaty voice. He had waited too long? What? Two days? I had been waiting for nearly eight years. Since the first time I saw him. I said nothing, gulping down my words as I stared back into his clear gray eyes.

  His face had darkened, and it made me blush. My dress finally gave way, and I was standing naked, pressed to his body. For the first time, my breasts were going to be naked in his hands. My body trembled as I imagined him touching me.

  With one splayed hand, Nash enclosed my left breast and squeezed. My eyes pressed close and I winced. How long had I wanted this? His thumb found my pink erect nipple that had been yearning for him. He flicked it and I winced again.

  And then he bent his head to reach for it with his mouth. He had let go of my hair no
w and I leaned back. His wet lips first kissed my nipple and then he sucked, tugging hard, rolling it between his teeth before sucking again.

  My panties were wet, and I could feel that familiar urge rising in me. This time I wanted him; I wanted him to actually fuck me. I wouldn’t be satisfied with his fingers anymore. I bunched his dark hair in my hands and I moaned, forcing my body to concentrate on one thing at a time. For now, Nash Preston was sucking on my nipples.

  His mouth worked away as my wetness grew. I parted my legs instinctively because I wanted him inside, but he was busy doing something else. He was busy sucking on my breast, and my mind was exploding from the sensation.

  I was out of breath by the time he raised his head to look at me. His gray eyes were piercing my soul. His face was completely serious; he wasn’t smiling anymore. Just when he was about to pull away from me, I reached for his cock. It was still in his pants but I cupped it and Nash groaned.

  This time, he wasn’t going to push my hand away, and I licked my lips. My blue eyes were glazed over, I was in his trance again, but so was he. We weren’t ourselves as I began to stroke him. He undid his pants, sliding them down his legs. There it was again. His massive cock. The one I had fantasized about for so many years. The one I knew had tortured many women before me.

  It throbbed, growing bigger in my hands when I grabbed it. Smooth like velvet, large and rock solid, I wanted it so bad. I stroked him harder and he grabbed my butt, grinding me up against him. Squeezing my ass, keeping me close to him as I brought him closer and closer. I was wetter now, if that was even possible, and he knew I was ready.

  We were kissing again, his lips were on mine, his tongue leaving a trail of wet kisses down my neck to the top of my cleavage. His cock continued to throb and grow in my hands. He was ready for me. I was ready for him. We were naked and pressed to each other, like we were clinging on for dear life.

  “Enough,” he said, like it was a command and released me. “Down on the bed,” he ordered, pushing me gently toward it. With his hand on the small of my back, he bent me down. The lace hanging from the posts gently flapped again my face as I bent over the bed. My hands clasped the posters as I faced forward. Nash remained behind me.