Hot Single Dad Read online

  16

  Linnea

  I wake to the weight of Caleb’s arm over me. I’m curled up against him, my back to his front, my ass nestled against his thighs. His hand cups one of my breasts and his breath is warm against my neck.

  The ache between my legs is pleasant and the feel of his body against mine makes me wish we never had to move. I can’t see the clock, so I’m not sure what time it is, but I think it’s early. Unfortunately, I do need to move. I should go to my bedroom before Charlotte wakes up and finds us here.

  But it feels so good to lie in his arms. I close my eyes and shift a little, snuggling closer against him. His hand squeezes my breast, sending a jolt of sensation through me. My back arches, almost involuntarily, and I feel his cock harden against my ass.

  He takes a deep breath, his muscular chest expanding against my back, and makes a low noise in his throat. The gentle pressure of his hand on my breast is waking me up in an entirely different way.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” He kisses my shoulder and the back of my neck.

  “Morning,” I say. “What time is it?”

  He kisses my shoulder again. “Don’t want to know.”

  His hand moves down to grab my hip and he presses his hard length against me. Oh my god, he feels so good. I arch into him and he keeps planting soft kisses on my neck.

  I still can’t quite believe last night happened. Our date was perfect—so romantic. When we came home, all I could think about was how much I wanted him. I’ve never felt that way before, not about anyone. I was desperate for him.

  And when he took me, it was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I’m still a little giddy from the way he touched and kissed me—from the way his cock filled me. Was all that sensation—all that hot, blissful pleasure—real?

  The jolts of electricity racing across my skin as he caresses and kisses me again tell me it was.

  I’m just about to reach behind and grab his cock—I want to feel it in my hand—when a noise makes us both freeze.

  “The door,” he whispers in my ear so quietly I can barely hear him. “Stay here.”

  The door squeaks again and he slowly moves away from me. I’m facing the other way, so I can’t see what’s happening. My eyes are wide and my heart is racing. Oh my god, Charlotte is coming in.

  “Daddy?” Her sleepy voice comes from the doorway.

  Caleb sits up and moves one of his pillows so it partially blocks me from view—hopefully. If she’s not fully awake yet, she might not realize I’m here.

  “Hey, Bug,” he says. The bed moves as he gets up and it sounds like he’s slipping underwear or pants on.

  I hold as still as I can.

  “Is it morning?” Charlotte asks.

  “Yeah, but it’s early,” he says. “Let’s go downstairs.”

  I wait until their voices disappear, then get up and grab my clothes before hurrying to my room. My door is still closed, so it doesn’t look like Charlotte went to my room first. Hopefully she has no idea I slept in her daddy’s bed last night. Obviously we’ll need to tell her that we’re dating now, but she doesn’t need the details of our sleeping arrangements—or anything else that goes on in his bedroom.

  It is early—before seven—but I’m awake, so I decide to throw on some clothes and go downstairs. I find them on the couch, Charlotte curled up in Caleb’s lap. He smiles at me—a slow, sexy smile that makes my heart flutter and my core tingle. I smile back and go into the kitchen to make tea.

  I’m hoping Caleb will talk to Charlotte about us, but as the day goes on, it’s clear he’s not going to. He doesn’t kiss or touch me in front of her, and I don’t hear him say anything about it. I’m a little disappointed—mostly because I’m so aware of the space between us. I want to be close—to feel his arms around me, his lips on mine. As it is, we steal a few kisses when Charlotte is in another room. And when he has to leave for the hospital that evening, he kisses my neck and whispers that he’ll miss me.

  Caleb is at the hospital overnight, so I sleep in my own bed. It was tempting to sleep in his, even alone, just so I could smell him. But I decided it would be better if I didn’t. Just before I fall asleep, my phone vibrates with a text.

  Caleb: I miss you, beautiful. I can’t wait to kiss you again.

  Me: Me too. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

  His message leaves me feeling dreamy and I drift off to sleep with a smile on my face.

  At school drop-off, I invite Megan and Noah to come over for an impromptu playdate this afternoon. Caleb won’t be home until later, and Charlotte and Noah haven’t played together in a couple of weeks. She agrees, and after school they walk home with us.

  The weather is gray and drizzly, so we set the kids up with some toys and games in the living room after they have a snack. Megan and I settle in at the dining table with steaming mugs of tea.

  We chat a little about how the kids are doing in school and she tells me her older sister just announced she’s expecting a new baby.

  “Now everyone is asking me when we’re having another one,” she says. “And we’re thinking about it. We didn’t really mean to wait so long after Noah, but it sort of happened that way. I just wish everyone would get off our backs.”

  “Yeah, that must be frustrating,” I say.

  “It is,” she says. “But that’s just my family for you.”

  I nibble on my bottom lip and stare into my tea. Are we good enough friends that I can talk to her about this? I guess I won’t know unless I try. “So… can I talk to you about something?”

  “Yeah, of course.” She leans forward and sets her mug on the table.

  “Well, something kind of happened between me and Caleb,” I say.

  She raises her eyebrows and her lips twitch in a smile. “Really? Something, like what?”

  “Like, a lot of things,” I say. “Like, he kissed me. And took me on a date. And…”

  “And?” she asks.

  My cheeks warm. “And I might have kind of slept with him the other night.”

  “Wow,” she says. “This is a good thing, right? You wanted to sleep with him?”

  “Yeah,” I say with a little laugh. God, I must be bright red. “I did, and it’s a good thing. I’ve had this crazy crush on him since pretty much the moment I got here.”

  “I figured you had a thing for him, but I didn’t want to pry,” she says.

  “You could tell?”

  “Sure,” she says. “The couple of times I’ve met him, I could tell there was something between you two. I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you’d bring it up.”

  I shake my head. “And here I thought I was doing such a good job hiding my feelings.”

  “I don’t think a stranger walking by would have noticed, but I’ve gotten to know you,” she says. “So, how did this happen? Did one of you finally work up the nerve to confess your infatuation?”

  “Sort of,” I say, and I tell her about my crappy date—and how Caleb kissed me when I got home.

  “Whoa,” she says, her voice a little awed. “I bet that freaked you out.”

  “Kind of,” I say. “I was so overwhelmed with everything that had happened. It wasn’t until I was in bed that it really hit me. And then I thought maybe it hadn’t been what I thought. Maybe he was just relieved that I got home safely.”

  “But obviously it was a lot more than that,” she says.

  “Yeah. We talked the next morning and it all came out—for both of us. Then that night he took me to the beach to watch the sun set.”

  “Aw,” she says.

  “It was wonderful,” I say. “But I’m still not sure what to think. I didn’t think he felt the way I did. And now that I know he does, it’s hard not to worry about all the reasons this is complicated.”

  She shrugs. “You’re both single adults. So, he’s a little older than you, and he used to be married to your sister. And, well, you’re his nanny.”

  I laugh. “God, it sounds pretty bad. My
parents are going to lose their minds.”

  “Uh-oh, really?”

  “It makes me kind of sick to my stomach to even think about telling them,” I say.

  “Do they not like him?” she asks.

  “I’m not sure if they dislike him, or just dislike that he married my sister,” I say. “My parents are so opinionated. They thought getting married was going to ruin her career or something. And now the same guy is sleeping with their other daughter?”

  Megan bursts out laughing. “I’m sorry.” She puts a hand to her chest and takes a few deep breaths. “I’m so sorry, I swear I’m not laughing at you. That’s just… wow.”

  “I know. It’s bad, isn’t it?” I ask.

  “No,” she says, emphatic. “It’s not bad. If he was the kind of guy to take advantage of you, or if he was pushing you into this, that would be bad. But crushing on a guy like him? Hard to blame you. Let’s be honest, he’s hot, he’s a freaking doctor, and he’s a great dad. What’s not to love? And the fact that he likes you too is pretty damn cool.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t stand a chance, did I? And he’s not pushing me into anything. Kind of the opposite. He liked me right away too, but he didn’t think he should do anything about it.”

  “Restraint and patience can be such sexy traits in a man,” she says.

  “Yeah. I’m just…”

  “What?” she asks.

  I take a deep breath. “Well, everything when we… well, you know… was great. Not just great. It was amazing. But now I’m a little intimidated. I don’t have a lot of experience.”

  “You mean with sex?” she asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Like, how inexperienced are we talking?” she asks.

  “Well, I wasn’t a virgin,” I say. “I dated a guy in college for a year and a half, and I slept with him. And there was a guy in high school before that, although… well, that was just bad all around.”

  “First times usually are,” she says.

  “No, it wasn’t that kind of bad,” I say. “He was just… he was awful to me.”

  “What happened?” she asks, her voice going soft.

  “Boys didn’t notice me in school,” I say. “I was too shy to talk much, and I dressed in big sweatshirts and stuff. One day, this guy saw me take off my sweatshirt in front of my locker, and I guess he decided I had something he wanted. He started flirting with me and eventually he asked me out. I didn’t want to sleep with him, but he pressured me pretty hard and I gave in. I regretted it so much afterward. When I wouldn’t go out with him again, he got mad and told everyone at school that I was a slut. Then I wasn’t just the weird quiet girl, I was the slutty weird quiet girl.”

  “Oh god, Linnea, that’s awful,” she says. “Fuck that guy.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I didn’t want to have anything to do with boys after that. Not until college. The guy I dated then was nice, and he cared about me. Or at least, I think he did. He wasn’t a very emotional person.”

  “Why did you break up?” she asks.

  “He was leaving to go to a Master’s program in New York,” I say. “So that was that.”

  “Wait, he just broke up with you?” she asks. “Did you guys talk about whether to stay together or try to figure something out?”

  “Not really,” I say. “He was very… logic driven. I don’t think he considered trying to have a long-distance relationship. He was moving away, so we were over.”

  “Ouch,” she says. “Well, you’re better off without that. James acts like he has no emotions, but even he wouldn’t be that cold.”

  I laugh. The way Megan describes her husband always makes me giggle. “You’re right, I am better off without him. It was just too bad he didn’t care about me enough to try.”

  “What a dumbass,” she says. “So, okay, you’ve only been with a couple guys, and let me guess, sex with Mr. I Have No Feelings wasn’t exactly spectacular.”

  “No,” I say. “To be honest, until the other night, I kind of didn’t know any better. But now…”

  She lifts her mug. “You go, girl.”

  I clink mine against hers. “But the problem is—please don’t make fun of me—I’m not sure if I’m any good at it. Or if I know the right things to do. How do people figure this stuff out?”

  “Of course I won’t make fun of you,” she says. “It’s not like our mothers sit us down and tell us how to be good lovers.”

  “Oh god.”

  “I know,” she says. “Can you imagine a conversation like that with your mother? Makes me shudder.”

  “Horrifying,” I say.

  “Exactly. This is why we need girlfriends.” She shifts in her chair, like she’s getting more comfortable. “Since you’re concerned about your bedroom skills, let me first ask, did it seem like he enjoyed himself?”

  I think back on the way Caleb drove into me. The way he groaned and growled into my neck. He was aggressive and unrestrained, like he was losing his mind. And when he came, it was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I cross my legs and take a sip of tea to cover the rush of heat that hits me. “Yeah, he… he was definitely enjoying himself.”

  “And you?”

  “Oh my god, Megan,” I say. “I’ve never… I don’t even know what to say.”

  “That good?” she asks. “We’re talking, girl got her orgasm good?”

  “Twice.”

  “Marry him,” she says, her expression serious.

  I laugh. “But what do I do now? He obviously knows what he’s doing. What if our first time was only good because it was our first?”

  “In my experience, sex with someone who knows what they’re doing can definitely be good,” she says. “But that can’t compare to sex that’s good because you’re both crazy about each other.”

  “So, you’re saying you don’t think it matters that I don’t really know what I’m doing?”

  “I’m saying if you guys have real feelings for each other, that’s going to do more to make sex awesome than whether you have some tricks up your sleeve,” she says. “Can I be really straightforward?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Listen to your body,” she says. “And feel for his reactions. Women have a lot of strength in our legs and hips. Use it. Move around, see what feels good. You’ll know if it makes him feel good—believe me. And if you trust him enough to go all the way to fucktown, you should be able to talk to him. Ask him what he likes. Better yet, ask him to show you what he likes.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I think I can do that.”

  “Besides, if a guy knows what he’s doing, he’ll play you like a fine instrument,” she says. “Let him lead you.”

  I take another sip of my tea and set it down. “Thanks, Megan. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

  “You bet, sweetie,” she says. “Ditto. Have you guys said anything to Charlotte yet?”

  “No,” I say. “I thought he might yesterday, but maybe he just wasn’t ready to bring it up yet.”

  “It is delicate,” she says. “I can see why he might wait to explain it to her. I’m so grateful I don’t have to juggle dating and parenthood. But at least you already know his daughter likes you.”

  “That’s true,” I say. “I’m crazy about that little girl.”

  Megan smiles. “I know you are. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks. I’m just trying not to get ahead of myself.”

  She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “You have a good head on your shoulders. I think you’ll be fine.”

  17

  Linnea

  The week is busy, and it goes by so fast, it almost seems like I miss it. In some ways, it feels like nothing has changed. Charlotte has school. I practice piano for hours every day. Caleb gets called in for extra shifts at the hospital, so he’s gone more than usual.

  We barely see each other until Thursday night. He comes home late and I can tell by his face and the way he walks in the door that he’s exhausted. He still pulls me into his bedr
oom, murmuring in my ear how much he missed me.

  I missed him too. But he’s worth the wait. And this time, I set the alarm on my phone before I fall asleep. I don’t want to give up sleeping wrapped in his arms, but I also don’t want a certain little girl to find me in her daddy’s bed.

  He’s stuck at the hospital late again on Friday, and I can tell Charlotte is starting to feel his absence. She’s more withdrawn, even with me, and she only picks at her dinner. I read with her until her bedtime and a surprise call from Daddy perks her up quite a bit. He promises he’ll be home tomorrow and he’ll spend time with her then.

  I keep Charlotte busy on Saturday morning so Caleb can sleep in. She helps me make pancakes and then I set her up at the table with paints and some big sheets of poster board. It’s almost eleven before Caleb comes down, looking rumpled and sexy in plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt. Charlotte jumps down and runs to him and he scoops her up. It melts me every time I see the way he hugs her.

  He brings her back to the table and she shows him her paintings. One is a garden with trees and lots of flowers. Another shows four stick figures next to a house.

  “Who is this, Bug?” he asks, pointing to the first figure.

  “That’s you,” she says, then points to the other figures. “This is Linnea, this is me, and this is Noah.”

  “And where are we?” he asks.

  “We’re home,” she says. “That’s our house, except Linnea planted pink flowers in the front.”

  “Did she?” He meets my eyes and winks. “That sounds very pretty. What’s this one?”

  She pulls out another picture. “This is me playing piano.”

  Caleb points to a bunch of circles lined up in rows at the bottom of the page. “What’s this?”