Page 1 of Filthy Rich Single Daddies

Chapter 1

Skylar

It's the perfect kind of afternoon for a skinny-dip in the neighbor's pool. The cool water laps against my skin as I glide through the crystalline pool. God, this feels amazing. I arch my back, letting the late afternoon sun warm my exposed breasts as I float languidly. The golden rays catch on the rippling surface, sending shimmering patterns dancing along the pool floor.

After the day I've had, I deserve this little slice of paradise. My students were absolute terrors today, and the PTA meeting afterward nearly drove me to tears. The PTA treasurer, Karen (not her real name), wouldn’t stop trying to micromanage everything, as if my life weren’t chaotic enough already. But this—this is my sanctuary now.

I dip beneath the surface, relishing the silky feel of the water against my naked body. When I emerge, droplets cascade down my face, and I push my wet hair back with both hands. The sprawling houses around me are barely visible through the lush landscaping. Not that I'm worried about prying eyes—this house has has been vacant for months.

The only signs of life I’ve seen on the neighbor’s property lately have been the pool and lawn guys, showing up like clockwork to maintain a house that no one lives in. So, when I got home and saw this beautiful, empty pool going unused—again—I decided I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. Call it opportunism or a bad case of poor impulse control, but it’s not like anyone’s going to know.

I swim to the edge of the pool and rest my arms on the sun-warmed concrete, gazing out at the manicured lawn. A gentle breeze rustles the trees, the faint sound of distant traffic reminding me I’m not completely isolated. "If only my students could see Miss Deveraux now." I chuckle.

Then it hits me—if they could see me, my third graders would be seeing me naked. I grimace at the thought and drop my head into my hands. Maybe not the best idea, Skylar. But the thought passes quickly, the ridiculousness of it all drawing a reluctant laugh from my lips. What am I even worried about? Here, surrounded by walls of greenery, I’m untouchable.

The stress of the day melts away as I close my eyes and tilt my face toward the sky, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. I push off from the wall, executing a lazy backstroke across the length of the pool. My mind drifts, savoring the peace and solitude.

The sunlight filters through my closed eyelids, warm and soothing. A bird chirps nearby, its melodic trill adding to the ambiance. I let myself drift, weightless and free, the water cradling me.

A gentle breeze caresses my skin, and I sigh in pleasure. "Now this is living," I say to no one in particular. "Eat your heart out, step monster." The words are sharper than I intend, but the thought of my father’s wife stumbling upon me like this is too funny to ignore. Her judgmental, pinched expression would be priceless.

For now, at least, all my worries seem as far away as the horizon.

So, when a thunderous barking shatters my serenity, I’m startles to say the least. I whip my eyes open just in time to see a massive dog, all snarling teeth and wild eyes, barreling out of the supposedly empty house.

What the actual fuck?

"Holy shit!" The words burst out of me as my heart leaps into my throat. I freeze mid-stroke, treading water in the center of the pool, unsure whether to swim for the edge or stay put. The beast looks like it could swallow me whole, and I’d rather not find out if that’s on its to-do list.

Just as I'm contemplating my odds of outswimming Cujo, a deep, masculine voice cuts through the chaos. "Djinn, come!"

The dog halts at the pool’s edge, teeth still bared, emitting a low growl that seems to vibrate through the water. Relief floods my system, but it’s short-lived. Because now, I have a bigger problem. Stepping out from the shadow of the house, is a man. And not just any man.

No, this is the kind of man sculptors dream of chiseling from marble—tall, with a jawline that could cut glass, piercing blue eyes, and the kind of effortless arrogance that screams power. His shirt clings to broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal forearms that are almost indecently attractive. He's the kind of handsome that belongs on magazine covers, not in the backyards of suburban mansions.

He stops at the edge of the pool, and his gaze locks on me—wet, naked, and very much trespassing.

"Well, this day just keeps getting better," I mutter, half to myself, though the sarcasm does little to mask my mortification. As if the situation wasn't awkward enough, a striking woman with a tablet joins Mr. Tall-Blond-and-Frowning. She’s polished to perfection with a sleek ponytail, sharp blazer, and a look onher face that shifts from composed to wide-eyed as she takes in the scene.

Lovely. Just lovely.

I force myself to meet their gazes, fighting the urge to sink beneath the water and never resurface. "Lovely day for a swim, isn't it?" I call out, my voice dripping with false cheer.

I cross my arms over my chest, desperately wishing I had a towel, or better yet, an invisibility cloak. The water laps at my shoulders, cool against my flushed skin. I consider making a dash for the pool's edge, but what's the point? They've already gotten an eyeful.

Their silence stretches for an eternity—or maybe three seconds—before the Adonis speaks, his tone clipped and accusing. “Who are you? And what, exactly, do you think you’re doing in my pool?”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to summon some bravado despite my very obvious disadvantage. "Your pool? I don’t see your name on it. This house has been empty for months."

His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "I'm Austin Rhodes, the new owner of this no-longer-empty house. Your turn."

Crap. Of all the rotten luck.

I plaster on a strained smile, the kind I usually reserve for PTA meetings and difficult parents. “Longtime neighbor and pool enthusiast.”

“Also known as a trespasser,” he replies smoothly.

“Tomato, to-mah-to,” I quip, pushing wet hair off my face. "Well, Austin Rhodes, it seems we have a bit of a misunderstanding on our hands."

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