Bad Daddy (Dirty Little Lies Duet 1)

“How’s school, girls? Fill me in on what you’re studying.” With two beers in him, he’s loosening up. Hazel has a mouthful of pizza, so I take the opportunity to lead the conversation.

“It’s going great. We just took our psych exams, which I think we both nailed.”

“Maybe you nailed it. I think I did okay. Maybe I need to flirt with our professor, so he gives me a good grade.” Hazel laughs while I gaze across the table at her dad. His grip tightens around his beer, and I question if that comment upset him.

“I thought you were being smarter about that?” he asks, taking a sip of his beer to cover any hardness in his tone.

“Oh, Dad, stop being so overprotective. She’s human. She probably needs a good sexual workout—”

“Hazel!” I slap her on the shoulder.

“What? My dad doesn’t care. He knows what goes on at college. Plus, you’re not his baby girl, so it’s okay to talk about you getting some.” She takes another bite of her pizza, oblivious to the scowl that causes his forehead to crease. You can cut the tension with a knife right now, so I change the subject. Leaning over the booth, I prop my breasts up, capturing his attention for a completely different reason. “What did you study in college, Mr. Winters?”

Hazel waves off my question, answering first. “Oh no, don’t get my dad started on his success stories.” She and her dad share a laugh. He takes another sip of his beer to compose himself.

“I went to Northwestern. Studied international business. Then got my master’s in finance. I spent a lot of time and hard work to get where I am. One day, you’ll both be just as successful.”

Hazel huffs. “No way. I have no interest in working day and night. A simple teaching degree will do just fine for me.” The buzzing of her phone grabs her attention, and she jumps in her seat, a look of nervousness spreading across her face. “Sorry, guys, I have to take this. It’s…uh, it’s this guy from school.” She scoots toward me, and I slide out of the booth to let her out. Quick on her feet, she disappears down the hallway toward the bathrooms. An opportunity strikes me, and I slip my phone out of my back pocket.

The sexual tension returns, not that it ever went away. Heath’s eyes fight to stay off me, and he takes another hefty sip of his drink.

“Mr. Winters, wanna see what we’ve done with our room?” I slide into the seat next to him. My cotton skirt hikes up, allowing my bare thigh to brush against his slack clad one. Pleasure surges through me when his eyes dip to my bare flesh, lingering longer than appropriate.

“We really decorated the room since the last time you saw it. I think you’re gonna love it.” He snaps out of his trance and rips his eyes away. I lean closer, my arm grazing his. I open my photos app and begin scrolling through my pictures while he attempts to keep his distance.

“Wow, you two have been busy,” he says, his voice hoarse. When he leans forward to get a better view at the photo of Hazel and I smiling in our workout gear, his cologne wafts through my nostrils, and I struggle to play fair.

I stop at the photos I snapped earlier in our room. “We turned this corner into our yoga area.” I swipe to another one. “This is our snack area, so we don’t make a mess of the room.” Another swipe. When the next photo comes into view, his body becomes rigid. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t see that one.” I blush, embarrassed. “We’re doing a body challenge. We had to take before and after pics…” my voice trails off as I take longer than necessary to scroll past the selfie of me naked and posing in front of our floor mirror.

Mr. Winters coughs into his fist, making a poor attempt to gather himself by clearing his throat. “Looks good,” he says, his voice strained as he adjusts his posture. This is a daring move, even for me, but I can’t stop now. Reaching under the table, I slide my hand up his thick thigh. He jolts at my unexpected touch, his muscles tightening under my hold.

“Jesus, what are you doing?”

His reaction gives me the courage I need, and I slide higher. He jerks, his hand diving under the table, grabbing mine and stopping me from reaching his cock. “What’s wrong, Mr. Winters? Am I misreading the signs here?” I ask, biting my lower lip. I adjust my thighs, no shame at the wetness building. I knew finally getting to touch him would have this effect on me.

“Violet, please remove your—”

“Anyone need anything else? Refills?” the waitress interrupts. Mr. Winters doesn’t make a move to pull his hand away, avoiding any unwanted attention under the table.