|Posted by Alyssa Drake on February 2, 2018 at 5:45 PM|
Hot Dad by Whitley Cox
Erotic Romance/Romantic Comedy Stand-alone
Heat level: 5 flames. Explicit sexual content, vulgar language and BDSM scenes.
Since the moment I laid eyes on her I’ve wanted her.
But I wasn’t ready.
The kids were my world and my wounds were still raw.
For six months, I watched her from afar. Dreamed of her, lusted after her, fantasized…
But all that’s about to change. I’m finally ready to take the plunge and start dating again. And now that I know she’s single, I’m going to do this right and win Harper. I want her mind, I want her body, I want her heart.
And when she gives me all access, no limits, I know she’s the one for me.
He’s the one we all call Hot Dad at playgroup. The one who makes my knees weak and my panties wet every time he walks through the door. We all eye-fuck the bejesus out of him, and dream of his tongue between our legs.
But my kid is my world, and I’m a frumpy mom with a hole in the bum of her yoga pants. What could he ever see in me? So when Sam calls out of the blue, I’m stunned.
Now if only the kids can stop cock-blocking us, and his psycho ex would go away.
He’s turned out to be a master Dom and I’m willing and eager to be taught how to be the perfect little submissive.
“Jesus Murphy,” Amy said with a whisper chuckle. “You two need to go get a room. There are children here. You can cut the sexual tension in this place with a knife.”
I shook my head, removing my gaze from Sam. He didn’t follow but instead continued to watch me. I let out a huff as I turned to face Amy. “It’s all him. He’s looking at me like he wants to take me into the janitor’s closet and have his way with me.”
She elbowed me in the ribs and bobbed her eyebrows. “Maybe he does.”
A few moments later, I was busy chatting with my mom posse, trying my damnedest to ignore Sam when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
S: You look really nice today. I like the high-tops.
Did he just winky-face me?
I glanced up to find him with his back to me as he played trains with Landon. I texted him back.
H: Are you TRYING to out us to the “coven”?
S: The coven?
H: My mom posse.
S: You call yourselves the coven?
H: As a joke. More importantly, are you trying to out us? Those looks were anything but innocent. Amy said she could cut the tension in this room with a knife.
Notice I didn’t say sexual tension. I’d had to delete that at first. I didn’t want to presume anything or, more importantly, give him any ammo.
S: What kind of “tension” are you referring to? I’m not tense. Are you tense? Why are you tense?
Damn him! Even when he was texting and not even looking at me, he was being cute and getting me all flustered.
H: I think you know EXACTLY what kind of tension.
H: Oh God!
S: You’re blushing.
My head popped up from my phone. Sure enough, he had swiveled his big sexy body back around and was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Landon, his phone in his hand.
H: Because you’re trying to embarrass me.
S: I’m not trying to do anything but get to know you. And now I know you embarrass easily. I also know I like it when you wear that tight sweater. Shows off your …
With a wry smile, I lifted my head. He was watching me. My phone vibrated again, and I looked down.
S: Elbows. You have GREAT elbows.
H: You’re incorrigible.
S: I prefer the word smitten, but to each their own.
“Are you two sexting?” Amy’s voice was low right next to my ear. Her breath smelled like coffee with a hint of chocolate. The woman always had chocolate in her pocket and would slip a square in her mouth when she didn’t think any of us were looking.
I shook my head. “Not sexting.”
“But you are texting?”
“Is he being all adorable and flirty?”
She bounced on her heels a couple of times. “Oooh, I am so good at this. You two are too cute.”
“Shhhh.” I shot her a dirty look. She was getting loud, and the other moms, no matter how boisterous and noisy their conversation about diaper rash was at the moment, all seemed to have ESP when it came to gossip.
“Oh, relax. My lips are sealed. But this is so exciting.”
I brought my gaze back up to Sam and smiled at him. He smiled back, and the butterflies in my abdomen—the wild and crazy kind—started to dance. “It really is.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have a spirited toddler and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn't end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it's not quite wine o'clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role playing, these books have everything we need to satisfy the curious kink in all of us.
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