by ChaShiree M.
Her Accidental Daddy
The Gentlemen Series
ChaShiree M.
Her Accidental Daddy (The Gentleman Series, Book One)
By ChaShiree M.
© ChaShiree M. 2019
All Rights Reserved
By the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.
Cover created by KL Fast
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Sadie
2. Charles
3. Sadie
4. Charles
5. Sadie
6. Charles
7. Sadie
8. Charles
9. Sadie
10. Charles
11. Sadie
12. Charles
13. Sadie
14. Charles
15. Sadie
16. Charles
17. Sadie
Epilogue
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by ChaShiree M.
Coming Soon
To those who crave a bit of the forbidden. There is someone for everyone. Sometimes, you have to not look for it, to find it.
1
Sadie
“Girl what are you doing on this dating site?” My best friend Maggie asks.
“I’m looking for my future. I told you I am determined to find my future husband this year and have babies.” Though I say this, I am less than optimistic given my circumstances. I expected the ‘are you nuts’ look. She has been giving me that confused look ever since I told her my goal on New Year's Eve.
“I get it Sadie, but what are you doing on this site? Don’t you know what this site is really for?”
I look at her with about 80% of the confusion I am feeling, because I have no idea what she is talking about. Knowing her, it is some drama she has gotten wrapped up in having to do with some celebrity scandal or another. Lord knows, the girl is obsessed with the next Kardashians or whoever. Myself, I don’t have time for TV. I have a full-time job and in my free time I help my momma take care of my little sister’s two daughters. Don’t even get me started on that.
“Maggie, what are you going on about? It’s just a dating site.”
“No, bish. ‘Angelica Monroe’ is more than just a dating site. It’s the site married men go to when they want to have an anonymous affair.”
“What?!? Where did you hear that? You really need to stay off the TV, girl. And please stop calling me a bitch. I told you, I don’t like it. It’s a degrading word for all women. As your best friend, I consider it an extra insult you insist on calling me that.”
“I didn’t call you a Bitch. I said ‘BISH’ which is totally different. See?”
All I can do is shake my head and give her my most disapproving face. Maggie is my complete opposite. She is loud, boisterous, and doesn’t give a rats ass what people think about her. She is short and curvy at 5’3” and 175 lbs, and flaunts it every chance she gets. She has no sense of shame or low self-esteem. I do have to admit; I love that about her. She really is beautiful and knows it. Portraying every bit of the fireball her Italian roots suggests.
I am the complete opposite. Don’t get me wrong, I am short and curvy too. The difference is, I hate my curves. I have worked most of my life to be one of the skinny girls. It never happened. Men always compliment me on my hips and my tits, because those are ample with no way to hide them. I should be grateful to not be a part of the itty bitty titi committee, but all I feel is self-conscious.
My best feature would be my legs. I love my legs. They are short, but muscular and toned. My Puerto Rican ancestry suggests I would be outgoing and full of life. However, life has saw to it that I am full of stress and losing my optimistic point of view.
“Sadie? Are you listening to me?”
“No, Maggie. I am not listening to this nonsense. All dating sites have a bit of shadiness about them, girl. So, either you’re going to help me fill out this profile or you’re not.”
I raise the corner of my eyebrow at her, which usually tells her I mean business. However, apparently at this moment it is not the case. She continues to harp at me about this site.
“Maggie!! Drop it please and keep your voice down. We are in the middle of a coffee shop.”
“Fine Sadie. I’m trying to help and save you the trouble of doing the horizontal mambo with someone else’s husband. Unfortunately, you don’t want to listen.”
I know she is full of shit, but it does give me a moment of pause. What if she is right? I have no desire to be the ‘other’ woman or to filch another woman's husband. Damn it!! Now she has me doubting myself.
When I turn to tell her to leave so I can finish, I get an itchy prickling sensation going up my neck. Trying not to draw attention I suppress a groan in my throat. Maggie knows all about my reticence with the opposite sex.
“Sadie, why are staring like you just saw the second coming? OOOOH, you finally feeling something girl?”
Maggie is one of the most dramatic people I know. She has never met a celebrity or read a magazine she didn’t call the gospel. However, what keeps me continuing to be friends with her is that she is the only person who has never made fun of me or made me feel weird because I don’t sleep around.
She is also the only person to know that I saw my father in a compromising position with the dry-cleaning lady one day when I six years old and my sister was three. Having a burden like that on my little mind and heart, not sure if I should tell my mom what I saw, if she would even believe me was too much and destroyed my sense of self, clouding me in confusion. In the end I didn’t have to tell her. She found them a day later, upstairs in my parents’ bedroom, while my mom was out running errands.
That day forward, my mom worked two jobs to make ends meet. Leaving me to become a mini mom if you will, taking care of my sister
Hence the reason she is bouncing in her seat right now looking around.
“What is it Sadie? What got you all twitchy?”
I don’t even hear her last word, because I know the minute the cause of my itch arrives.
Holy Shit!!! Walking in through door is the most ruggedly handsome man I have ever seen. He stands at least over 6 feet. With a medium build, and gray hair. Wearing a pair of khakis, docs, button down shirt, and a long trench coat. What draws me to him is the way he carries himself. He walks with an air of assuredness, projecting he is the most important person in a room. Right now, for me, he is.
I want nothing more in this moment than to see his eyes. It doesn’t even register that I am staring until he turns away from the counter and looks at me, raising his eyebrow in question. My face hea
ts up and I am extremely embarrassed. I don’t know what has come over me.
The only thing I am sure of is he caused the awareness, but I am not sure what it means.
“Bish that old dude at the counter is staring at you. I mean really staring.”
“Maggie shut up.”
I didn't mean to be harsh. I am already mortified at my ogling, and she is not helping or even trying to be quiet.
“Well excuse me, Miss Thang. I’m only trying to help. I don’t know what has gotten into you lately. You have been a real bitch the past few weeks and I don’t have to sit around for this. When you are ready to talk, you know where to find me.”
Grabbing her purse, she leaves. I want to be mad at her. She has left me in a coffee shop by myself and right now of all times. But I can’t deny she is right. I have been extra stressed and not myself. Unfortunately, I have been harder on her than I usually am. Maybe it is for the best. I have a lot going on in my life and a goal I am trying to accomplish. It was inevitable, but we were going to grow apart. Her life goals consist of being famous, either through her merit or by dating her way to it.
Me, I just want security, stability, and a family of my own. Someone I can lean on and who will be a partner in life with me.
I find myself looking towards the counter. Sure, enough he is staring at me. I am unable to explain the level of awareness going through my body at the moment. My stomach is coiling tight, and my nipples begin to harden. My breathing starts getting shallower and sweat starts to form on my forehead.
The sudden urge to lick my lips overtakes any sense of propriety I might have had at the beginning of the day. I lick them and at the same time, look at him as I do and to my utter happiness, he adjusts himself, showing me that he is not unaffected.
Now if only I could figure out what it all means.
2
Charles
“Really, Charles. You have to be feeling the burn by now. I mean, you have gone your whole life alone. Except when you were with the Ice Queen. I am glad it didn’t work out between you two. It must have hurt to find her digging in the gutter with the goddamn gardener. How cliché.” So fucking true.
“Now my dear old friend, it is time for you to live. I am not proposing you fall in love, but your dick has got to be the most lonely wiener on the planet.”
Torture. That is what I have to look forward to on every Thursday. Ralph insists on taking me to lunch on this day. He doesn’t want to become ‘old retired dogs’ which is what he calls it anyway.
I appreciate him trying to get me out of the routine rut I have been in, but I am perfectly happy where I am.
“Old friend, I know you fancy yourself as a sort of Casanova Don Juan incarnate, but I happen to be a different breed. I don’t want to sow my old oats. My desires have not changed, I wanted love then and I want it now. However, women our age are not looking for having the complete family. Most of them have had it and don’t want it again, or have never wanted it and are too old to want it now.”
I take my hand and put it on his shoulder to direct him into the coffee shop. “Now, let’s get in here and get my coffee so I can go into the office for a few hours before this blasted game of racquetball you are making me do.”
“One of these days Charles, I will get you into the Club my friend, and your life will never be the same.”
I groan inwardly about him and his bloody club. There is no desire in me to treat a grown woman like a toddler. I don’t judge others, but it is not for me. Nor is having some girl treat me like she would her father.
I get how there are people who want to be hero worshipped and get off on it. It is not for me. I want a woman who can be my equal and doesn’t need me to be her white knight.
As I am walking into the coffee shop, I run through a list in my head of things to get done at the office today. Although I am retired, I own a host of businesses, and real estate, and investments which need to be overseen. My mind is preoccupied with my responsibilities as I walk into the shop, that I almost miss it.
Almost.
Awareness. It is the first feeling that comes over me. Not just a feeling of someone watching me or a sense of déjà vu. An awareness that goes from my forehead down to my toes. This feeling would be unremarkable if it wasn’t for the extra-unexpected sensation going through my pants. There is a heaviness right now, my balls are so fucking full; I could bathe the floor in my jizz. The part that is perplexing is the flagpole-sized tent forming in my pants.
Looking around the room, I try to find the cause of the anomaly in my body. I almost miss the unassuming goddess that my dick is calling out to.
Sitting ten feet from me is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Immediately I regret my initial assessment of calling her unassuming. She is anything but that. Sitting at a table with her friend, who by some standards is pretty enough, but my goddess is a showstopper.
As if she could feel me staring a hole through her, because indeed I am, she turns and looks at me. At that moment the whole room ceases to exist. I inwardly gasp hoping she is unable to hear it. As I did, she looks as if she inhales at the same time.
I stare into the most beautiful eyes encased in spun gold. The color of freshly brewed tea before adding condiments. Hell, if it doesn’t make me want to take a drink of her.
She cannot be more than 25 years old. Looking at the curves on her that I can see, she is a bombshell. My hands are twitching with the need to touch her. I want to feel the softness of this woman. Her hair flows down to her waist. I want to see her light brown tresses fanned out over my Egyptian cotton specially made sheets as I savor and lick every inch of her.
I have no idea where these thoughts are coming from. Now that they have started, I don’t want them to stop.
“Charles? Have you heard anything I have said?”
“No. I absolutely have not. My attention has been elsewhere.”
Ralph looks over my shoulder to see where my attention has been diverted to. A growl leaves my throat before I can stop it.
“Did you just growl at me?”
“Do not look at her. You do not have the right to look at her. I demand that you turn around and walk outside Ralph, before I make you.”
I have no idea who I am at this moment, with the overwhelming possessiveness I am feeling. All my instincts tell me to take her, claim her, and breed her.
What the fuck!
I am unable to decipher what the hell has gotten into me. The feelings she has invoked in me, I don’t want to go away.
Why is the smug bastard chuckling?
“Well, well, well, Charles. I had all but written you off as playing for the other team, with the amount of attention you pay to the female persuasion. However, I see some curvy little imp has gotten your attention now, huh?”
“Let me guess, you are feeling a bit possessive, protective, and almost like a caveman. Am I right?”
I don’t answer because no matter how much I want to deny it and would try, he would continue with his drivel.
“Welcome to the land of the crazy, old buddy.” He says while patting me on the back. “It only gets worse from here. I will leave you to it my friend. Call me after you finish branding her,” is his parting shot as he walks out the door.
It would be funny if it weren’t so disturbing. Because that is exactly what I plan to do.
3
Sadie
I need to get up and walk out. I mean. Right? Before I make a fool of myself. Yep. That is exactly what I am going to do. I start gathering my things, preparing to leave. The deepest, raspiest voice I have ever heard, runs its way through my body. I squeeze my thighs together to calm the ache that has bloomed out of nowhere.
“Hello. Where are you running off to?”
I look up and oh my word. He is even more handsome up-close. The details I couldn’t see from far away are those beautiful blue eyes. They are the color of the ocean. His lips are pronounced, causing me to lick my own as I imagine them all over me. I m
ust be going crazy, fantasizing about sex with a complete stranger.
“Are you going to answer me, sweet thing? Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
I manage to answer him. What I should have done was run.
“Uhm, I-I, nowhere.”
Really Sadie? Nowhere. Did I really just say nowhere? Now I look really nuts cause I’m packing to go “nowhere”. Great.
“Well that’s fortunate. It means you can sit with me while I finish my coffee and croissant, and talk to me a bit. Yes?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Please tell me a bit about yourself. Starting with your name.”
“Not much to tell. I’m nothing special.”
“I beg to differ, sweet thing. Furthermore, don’t let me hear you talk about yourself that way again.”
He puts his finger under my chin and says, “You understand?”
I am stunned at his high-handedness. My apparent attraction is evident by the leaking in my undies. All I can do is eek out a nod.
“Now, let’s try this again. Tell me about you.”
I guess I better do as I’m told. Wait! What? Do as I’m told. Where the hell did that come from? Ok. Shit just got real.
“My name is Sadie. I am 25 years old and I live with my mom. I am an RN and that’s it. See nothing spec…um I mean nothing else to tell.”
“Good girl.”
Holy shit!!! Did he just good girl me? OMG. Why does that make me want to jump in his lap and rub myself all over him. Seriously, I feel warm all over like I am being covered in a blanket. I feel extremely turned on. I did notice saying good girl to me makes him…. happy too it seems. Well, according to his pants anyway. What the hell has gotten into me?