Bad Daddy: Dirty Little Secret Duet book 1

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Bad Daddy: Dirty Little Secret Duet book 1 Page 6

by J. D. Hollyfield


  I hope I didn’t just sign my death warrant on our dirty little secret.

  Violet

  The rest of my week was shit. Ever since the call, I haven’t once caught a glimpse of him. And as pathetic as I am, I check her FaceTime call list. He calls a lot. I’ve been tempted to just call him, convince him it wasn’t me who gave Jim my number, but I worry he’s done with me. I broke one of his rules. By Friday, my stomach is in such knots I text Hazel and tell her I’m not feeling good and am skipping psychology.

  I just need a nap and a long shower to wash away all the doubt. Unlocking our door, I step inside. There’s a shift in the air, along with a familiar scent. I search the room, and my eyes land on the man taking up space in Hazel’s desk chair. He looks almost regal, sitting with one leg draped over the other, stealing my breath in his business attire.

  “Mr. Winters,” I gasp, surprised to see him here. My mouth is suddenly dry. I’m frozen in place, taking in the two open buttons of his dress shirt that exposes his chest. “Hazel…she’s um…in class.”

  Why are you here? Why haven’t you called me?

  “I know where my daughter is. She left me the key at the front desk to wait here for her. Told me to check on you since you weren’t feeling well.” He leisurely stands, taking two slow steps toward me. “Are you not feeling well, Violet?” I’m battling to find an answer to his question. His presence is too overwhelming.

  “I’m feeling fine.”

  “Good.” He eliminates the space between us, leaving me no choice but to back halfway into my closet. “We have rules. You have rules,” he says, dipping low so his breath skates along my neck.

  His presence is overpowering, dominating, creating a swirling of butterflies in my belly. “I didn’t answer. He called, but I didn’t answer,” I spit out nervously, a tremor of heat blasting up and down my spine.

  “Is that why you’re sick, naughty girl?” His hand grips my yoga pants, and he tugs them down.

  “Yes.” My voice is hoarse as I respond.

  He pushes my panties aside, thrusting one glorious finger inside me, finding me wet and pulsating. “I don’t share, Violet.” Another joins in. “I. Do. Not. Share.” Each finger he enters is a warning. He doesn’t stop, each thrust rougher and quicker, until I’m grabbing onto his shoulders as my orgasm courses through me. My face falls into his chest, and he allows me a minute to gather my breath.

  The moment doesn’t last long before he pushes away from me. His hand raises, coercing my lips open. His fingers, coated in my orgasm, shove into my mouth, and I gag at how deep he goes. “Suck.” I do. “Taste what I get to taste.” I wrap my tongue around his fingers, a new round of arousal igniting in my core. “This sweet cunt is mine.” He works them in and out, seductively fucking my mouth. “Sweet, isn’t it?” In and out. My legs begin to quiver, and I grip his shirt in my fist. “And now you know why I don’t share.” I’m on the verge of another orgasm when he removes his fingers from my mouth.

  I’m suddenly being spun around, my hands reaching forward to grab the edge of Hazel’s desk. His mouth is inches from my ear, his breath sending heat to every part of my body. “I thought we had an understanding, Violet.”

  “We did. We do. I swear, I didn’t call. I don’t want him. I want you.” His steady breathing has me on fire. He’s completely calm, but I’m on the verge of exploding again.

  He cups my sex. “What are you going to do to show me it’s been my cock on your mind and not his?”

  “I’ll do anything. It’s only your cock I want.” A ripple of pleasure shoots to my core as he tears my yoga pants further down my legs. He releases his cock from his slacks and buries it deep inside me. There’s no gentleness in this, just pure, raw sex. He’s trying to make a point. And his message is clear. His cock is so deep, I moan loudly, and his hand reaches around, shoving his fingers back in my mouth to quiet me.

  “Was this just a game for you, naughty girl? See if you could taunt the bad man? Get a taste of the untouchable?”

  “No,” I answer on a rasp. “I’ve always wanted you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since—”

  “Since the day I walked into this very room, and you gifted me the sight of these beautiful breasts? My breasts.” His hand works its way up, taking my nipple between his fingers and pinching to the brink of pain. “You gave me something that day, and now it’s mine to own.”

  “What’s that?” I ask between pants.

  “Your essence.” He plunges into me like a bull, fucking me into oblivion. My screams are muffled as he grabs Hazel’s scarf off the desk and shoves it into my mouth. My walls squeeze tight around him as my orgasm detonates, white stars shooting behind my eyelids.

  “Oh God,” I cry out my release as he pumps into me without remorse, letting his own orgasm take flight. Warmth shoots inside me as he fills me, claims me. He pulls out, leaving me empty, wetness dripping down my legs. He dips his hand between my thighs, soaking his fingers with his cum. Reaching around, he tugs down my tank top and smears himself over my chest. I follow his fingers as he draws the shape of an H over my breastbone.

  A few short moments pass before he breaks the silence. “Missed this, naughty girl.” He brushes his lips over my shoulder blade, then to the center of my back.

  “I thought you were mad at me,” I confess, the worry that consumed me all week returning.

  “I was. Why I needed to see for myself how you were behaving.”

  “I thought you came to see Hazel?”

  “Amongst other things.” Fisting my hair, he pulls my head back and kisses me, catching me off guard, and I melt into him. This affectionate side is new for me. He takes my mouth, showing me exactly who owns me, and I become lost—in his touch, his scent, the lingering taste of my own arousal he forced in my mouth. Breaking contact, he steps back, tucking himself into his slacks.

  I adjust my clothes, then shamefully use Hazel’s scarf to clean myself up. When I go to wipe off my chest, Heath seizes my wrist. “No. That stays. So you know—so anyone who comes near you knows.”

  I blush at the mere thought of his cum stained on my chest. His mark. His claim. I nod, struggling to keep eye contact and pull away, looking around the room until I regain my composure. “So…what happens now?” There’s so much that needs to be established. Does this make us a couple? How do we tell Hazel? How will she take it?

  Casually rolling up his shirt sleeves, he says, “With what?”

  “About Hazel. We should tell her.”

  There’s a shift in the air. “You will do no such thing.” Walking up to me, he clutches my chin. “You belong to me—even this tongue. For right now, it stays quiet.”

  “But what if she—?”

  “For now, she can’t know. Let me handle my daughter.”

  As if on cue, the door handle turns, and Hazel walks into the room. Heath walks over to greet his daughter, kissing the top of her head. “Hey, Daddy! Glad you made it!” She hugs him, then pins me with a concerned smile. “How you feelin’?”

  My hands become fidgety. Hazel stares at me, waiting for an answer, but all I can do is think about the neon H stamped on my chest. “Um…yeah, it was just a headache. I feel better now. How was class? I’ll just copy your notes, cool?”

  “Yeah, sure. So, Dad, what do you feel like doing?”

  Heath brushes a piece of hair away from his daughter’s cheek. “Why don’t I take you girls out to dinner? My treat.”

  And like there isn’t a huge elephant crammed in the room, we head out to dinner.

  Violet

  “Oh my god, no way! He was so nasty.”

  Our conversation is casual—as casual as it can be with my pussy still sore and cum on my chest. Hazel stops mid-sentence, dropping her attention to her phone. Her eyes crease, and she excuses herself, telling us she needs to take a call.

  “What’s on that pretty little mind of yours, naughty girl?” Heath takes a sip of his bourbon.

  I want to bring up ou
r situation. I know it’s not normal. Shit, it’s way far from normal. Our age gap, it’s wrong in so many ways, but the way he makes me feel, the loneliness that consumes me when I can’t see him…no matter how wrong this is, it feels right to me. But this is not the place to bring it up. “Oh, nothing, just remembering the last time we were at dinner eating pizza together.”

  His smirk is too sexy. “Oh yeah, and what are you remembering?” He sets his glass down, twirling the large ice cube.

  I shrug, pretending to be cool about it, but the memory has me crossing my legs. “Just how I took a chance, and it paid off.”

  His laugh is so damn sexy as he throws his head back. “You took a chance. Was I a conquest to you, naughty girl?”

  At this point, there’s no reason to hide. “You were. I felt something for you and couldn’t make it go away. I told myself it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself. You were stuck in my head, and I couldn’t let go of whatever was growing inside me until I figured out if it was one-sided. Lucky for me, it wasn’t.” I take a sip of my Coke, watching his reaction. It may have sounded childish. Immature. He’s twice my age and has probably had a revolving door of gorgeous women at his feet.

  Heath leans over, his words low and predatorial. “I would have claimed you even if you hadn’t offered yourself to me that night. It seems it was only a matter of time before we both got what we wanted.” My heart flutters and a smile breaks across my face. “Your happiness is going to get us in trouble, naughty girl. That smile is making me hard.”

  I laugh into my drink as Hazel slides back into the booth, less peppy than when she left. “Everything okay, baby girl?” Heath asks, bringing his attention to his daughter.

  “Yeah, it’s nothing,” she says, but her voice says otherwise. “Stupid guy problems.” She waves it off, stuffing her phone into her purse. “Anyway! You two finished? I say we take dear old dad to a college party!”

  “Holy cow, this place is packed!” Hazel yells over the blaring house music. We’re back at the same party we came to a few weeks ago, and just like last time, it’s a shitshow. Loud music, drunk college kids everywhere.

  “I’ll grab us some drinks. Stay put,” Hazel says as she walks off, leaving Heath and me in the center of the busy party. Ahead of us are a group of guys taking shots. Next to them, another group chugs beers and slams the cans to their foreheads. Surrounding them are scantily clad girls trying to get their attention. To the right, there’s a couple in a heated kiss, his hand fondling her ass.

  “Is this what you enjoy, naughty girl? Frat parties with sloppy boys?” Heath purrs in my ear. The simple warmth of his breath has every nerve ending in my body electrified. “What are you thinking about, Violet?” His question is meant to provoke me, and it does its intended purpose. A wave of heat spreads between my thighs. My skin tingles and tiny little sparks of excitement ignite across my skin. I could lie and tell him I’m not affected. But at this point, we’re passed lies. The truth is the only option.

  “I wish you were able to kiss me that way right now.”

  Heath leans into me, his hand brushing against my outer thigh. To any onlookers, his touch appears innocent—two people forced to be so close due to the full house. But to us, it’s a sign of need, and to be honest, torture. The last place I want to be at is this party.

  “Let’s dance.” Heath grabs my hand and pulls us onto the overcrowded dance floor. Bodies gyrate, grinding to the fast beat. We squeeze between two couples, and my cheeks flush as the girl next to us thrusts her pussy into a guy’s hand. Heath grips my chin, moving me to face him, and takes hold of my waist as he presses into me. I roll my hips against him, loving the way we mold together.

  A cheeky smile creeps along my face at dancing provocatively with him so openly. Hazel will be back any minute with our drinks, and I should pull away. He should take his hands off my burning skin. Instead, I brush up against his thigh, my eyes feeling heavy, allowing the music to take control. He twists me, pulling me into him, and I bite my tongue at his cock grinding into my ass. My eyes wander back to the couple, the guy moving his hand inside her pants, rubbing, thrusting, his motions matching the rhythm of the song. Her face is flushed, her hips gyrating, her lips parted in an O.

  “Is that turning you on, naughty girl? Do you wish my fingers were deep inside you?” His breath heats my already flushed cheek. I rest my head against his chest as I sway against him. I would love nothing more than to feel his fingers inside me, but it wouldn’t be enough for me. I would need his cock to stretch me wide. I cover his hands with mine, pressing my nails into his skin.

  “When Hazel returns, tell her you don’t feel well. I’ll take you back to the dorms.”

  My belly tightens. My nipples harden. My sex—

  “Violet?”

  I stiffen in Heath’s arms and jolt forward out of his grip, whipping to my right to face Jim. “Jim, hey! Uh…how are you?” I ask, my voice too shrill. He looks from me to stare down Heath, then brings his eyes back.

  “Um…great. I’ve been trying to call you. You missed class today. Everything okay?”

  I shake and nod and shake and nod like a damn bobblehead. “Yep. Fine. Great. Just wasn’t feeling well.” Shit, this is awkward.

  “So, who’s this?” he asks, and I want to crawl into a hole and hide.

  “Oh…um, yeah! This is Hazel’s dad. He’s here visiting.” Jim relaxes, an easy-going smile replacing his confused expression.

  “Oh, got it! Phew, I was gonna say, he’s a bit old for you.” He reaches his hand out. “Hey, man, nice to meet you. I’m a friend of Violet’s and your daughter’s.” Heath doesn’t accept his hand, and I start to panic at the impending pissing contest.

  “So! What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to break the building tension.

  Jim puts his hand down, giving me his full attention. “Same as you, enjoying my Friday night. Hey, wanna go get a drink? I see you don’t have one.” He leans in closer. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Dad you’re underage.”

  He barely gets his sentence out before two hands shove him into a dancing couple. “What the fuck, man?” Jim steadies himself, gaping at Heath.

  I throw my hands out to stop Heath, but he’s a bulldozer. “I’m sure it’s frowned upon to hit on students, being a professor and all. Maybe a call to the school board will teach you a fucking lesson.”

  “Heath…” I grab at his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge.

  “Excuse me?” Jim baits him. “Pretty sure groping your daughter’s roommate is pretty frowned upon as—”

  Hazel makes her appearance right on time, hands full of drinks, only to drop them and scream as her dad takes a swing at our psychology professor.

  “Dad!” She pushes through the crowd, slamming her hands on his chest to push him back. “What the hell!” she yells, her voice snapping him out of his fury. Mortified, Hazel shakes her head and runs out of the party. Heath chases after her, and I stand there frozen for a second. Jim stares at me with an accusing frown, and I offer an apologetic smile before taking off after them.

  “Hazel, slow down. I’m sorry.”

  Hazel whips around just as I catch up to them. “Sorry? Dad, you just punched my professor! At a party! Do you know how people are going to talk?”

  “That guy was a fucking shit and shouldn’t be hitting on his students.”

  “Dad, this is college. A lot worse is going on than a professor hitting on a student. It happens all the time. Worse shit goes on under people’s noses, but you don’t go punching them! God!” She turns on her heel. “Violet, let’s go.”

  “Uh…where are we going?” My eyes bounce from her back to Heath.

  “Home! Dad, just go back to your hotel. I can’t right now.” Hazel stops for me to catch up and grabs my hand, tugging me with her. I peer back at Heath, and his furious stare makes my stomach uneasy.

  Hazel cries herself to sleep. I know she’s embarrassed about what her dad did, but there’s something else going on with
her, something she isn’t sharing. Heath never called. And I couldn’t call him. How funny, through all of this, we still haven’t exchanged numbers. Morning comes, and I’ve gotten zero sleep. I hoped he would come to make amends with Hazel, assure me that searing glare was not meant for me. Guilt kept me up, replaying the night, and convincing myself it wasn’t my fault. It’s not until late morning that he shows up with a bouquet of flowers so large, he can barely get them through the door.

  “Forgive me?” he says to his daughter as she fights to stay mad. She breaks down and hugs him, and I feel as if I’m intruding on another father-daughter moment.

  “Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you too, baby girl.” They stay connected for some time and a pit of jealousy forms in my stomach. I want to be the one in his arms, gifted with flowers and apologies. I leave the room, feeling even more confused about where we go from here. How do we continue this—whatever it is—and keep it from Hazel? I don’t want to be his dirty little secret anymore. But I don’t know what happens when we’re exposed. I head into the bathroom, needing to rein in my emotions. I splash some water on my face and almost scream when I raise my head and find Heath at my back.

  “What are you—you can’t be in here.”

  “Simple mistake. I’m an old man, remember? No one will question it.”

  “Heath, I’ve never said you were old.” I eye him through the mirror.

  “I know. I was an ass last night. I lost my mind at the way he was looking at you. I told you I don’t share.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Like I said, I’m an ass. Forgive me.” He retrieves something out of his pocket. When a small box comes into view, my breath catches. He opens it, revealing a diamond charm necklace—my mouth parts on a gasp. With two hands, he unlatches the necklace and places it around my neck, a diamond letter H resting on my chest.

  “Oh, Heath, you don’t need to—”

  “Yes, I do. You deserve to be draped in more than diamonds. And since I can’t ask you not to wash away my mark, you’ll have this until the next time I get to freshen that mark.”

 

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