Bad Daddy (Dirty Little Lies Duet 1)

“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.”