Page 33 of She's perfect for Daddy

I opened the door, and she was startled.

“Get in!”

“Mr. Lennox!” He widened his eyes.

“Get in.”

She tilted her head and alternated her gaze between me and the leather seat.

“You'll get your car wet.”

“It's already getting wet while the door is open, and I can't stand here, or I'll end up getting a fine.”

“But...”

“Are you going in or not?” I gave an ultimatum when someone honked behind me.

She looked at the other driver impatiently and eventually got in. She closed the door and cringed, shivering as the icy wind touched her wet skin. I turned off the air conditioning and left only the window defogger on.

“Thank you.”

“Where are you going?”

“I'm going back home.”

“Okay.”

“I was trying to get to the metro station. Can you drop me off?”

“I'll take her home.”

“It's far...”

“How far?”

“I live in Queens.”

I just wanted to get home soon and be with my daughters, which is probably why I didn't leave their teacher at the nearest place. Despite the air conditioning being switched off, the woman was still shivering and flapping her jaws. I turned it on again, increasing the temperature as hot as I could feel in my blazer.

“Put the address here.” I opened the GPS panel on the media monitor for her to type.

“You don't have to take me.”

“Would you rather I opened the door and threw you back out into the rain?”

“No.” She swallowed, becoming even more disconcerted.

“I imagined it.”

I didn't need to speak again for her to register the address and let the system calculate the best route.

We sat in silence, but every now and then, I turned my attention away from the traffic to look at her. Her makeup was smudged by the rain, but it wasn't enough to stop me from realizing how beautiful she was, especially when we weren't arguing.

It was possible that she was about ten years younger than me. Her delicate hands wrapped around her slender arms, and her nails were painted with a light, peeling polish on some of her fingers.

I had already been involved with younger women; usually, the pink books were full of them. The sex was easy, no questions asked, and the next thing I knew, my eyes were on her thighs. She closed her leg by reflex, and I looked away.

The young woman was my daughters' teacher, and I was supposed to avoid any involvement with them so as not to get into any trouble. But no, it was just the man who was hitting on her, and I thought little of it that day.

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