Page 1 of Daddy's Perfect Ballerina

CHAPTERONE

Leo

They donotteach you how to avoid crushing on your clients in University. They instruct you on countless other things—most of which you hardly need—but they don’t tell you how to resist the ridiculously hot dad whom you will inevitably come face to face with on a weekly basis.

Nor do they warn you about how said dreamy dad will bombard you with heart palpitations on sight, or how, once you’re alone, he’ll creep back into your mind to stick you with an incurable desire for the remainder of the night. Trust me, I speak from experience.

In my case, this soul-aching crush has been brewing for six long months.

Six. Months.

It may not seem like a very long time, but I haven’t had sexoncesince laying eyes on this man. I’m pretty certain he’s happily married and blissfully unaware of the way he makes me feel with just one look. And yet I’m as celibate as a nun because of him. I wouldn’t be able to even look at another guy long enough for a quick hookup, let alone get my dick hard. He’sruinedme.

I’m a twenty-three-year-old ballerina, and I’m gorgeous. My dark blond hair is soft and shiny, my eyes are a dreamy caramel brown, and my body is a perfect tool of my craft. I’mflexibleand mouthwatering to look at. I should have absolutely no problems in the sex department, and still, here I am; obsessed with someone I can’t have.

Ezra Jones has consumed me. All six foot two, brawny, brown-eyed bit of him. He’s got big meaty hands, a muscle-riddled body, and a thick beard Ineedto feel scratching up my neck. His eyes though… they are the deepest, magnetic eyes I’ve ever seen. I just can’t get enough of them. He’s an absolute dream. Andfuck, he’s a perfect dad.

His daughter Miley is the cutest little thing. She’s three years old and full of smiles,especiallywhen Ezra comes to pick her up after class. He dotes on her, and there’s just something about a man who takes care of his own. I mean,reallytakes care of them. Loves them openly, would fully take a bullet for them… and that’s Ezra. He looks at his daughter like he’d fight anyone or anything to keep her safe.

I could see that from day one of having Miley enrolled in the ballet school. Six months later, his appeal hasn’t diminished in the slightest. He still gives me butterflies on sight and makes my mouth dry with nerves just by speaking to me at pick up.

So… yeah, Daddy Jones has destroyed me.

“Alright, class,” I start, clicking off the soft, classical music. “We’re almost done for the day, does anyone have any questions?”

Six little hands shoot up and I chuckle, beginning to call on them one by one. My apprentice Emmily helps, fixing exactly two ponytails and one braid upon request. Whether or not their hair will be taken down again for bath or bedtime at home is quite irrelevant. The little ones get, what the little ones wish.

“Yes, Miley?” I ask, finding her hand in the air after all the others have fallen.

She smiles wide. “My daddy is here!” She points excitedly toward the parent’s viewing window, and my eyes follow, finding him there.

Larger than any of the other guardians, his frame dominates a large portion of space. His black flannel makes him even more noticeable in a sea of business casual attire. I fight back against a shiver and clear my throat, clapping my hands together.

“Okay!” I announce with a smile. “Class is dismissed; I will see all of you lovely ballerinas next week.”

All ten of my students perk up and rush toward the door at once, tutus flailing wildly behind them. This class is a small one, all girls from three to four years old. It’s also my last class of the night, and the last one utilizing this specific studio. So without rushing, I start packing up, knowing that at least one or two parents will want to speak with me before leaving. It’s a guarantee when instructing the younger ones, but I don’t mind. Parents are very protective at this age, and being actively involved in their kids’ education whether it be school or dance is a good thing.

“I’m heading into Studio J,” Emmily tells me. “The intermediates have Tap tonight, and Julien needs an assistant.”

“I bet he does,” I taunt, offering her a grin. “Have fun with that.”

Her cheeks redden, and she rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”

I mime zipping my lips and she huffs, leaving me behind. Those two will either kill each other or be married by the end of the month.

Within seconds two parents are asking to speak with me, wondering if their daughter has had an easier time focusing since changing her shoes. I kindly explain that she’s been nothing but a joy since the switch. She was clearly uncomfortable with the previous fit and fabric but that’s not uncommon. Lots of kids are particular about what they’re comfortable wearing. They thank me with words and smiles before leaving.

I’m disappointed that Ezra and Miley have already left, nowhere to be seen as I exit the small studio. Normally, he stays behind to simply ask if she had a good class. If he hasn’t stayed within the building for the entire thing—which he does often.

I sigh but brush it off. He’s probably got a busy weekend ahead of him and needed to leave as soon as possible. I can wait a week to get another glimpse of him.

Or I can do what I always tell myself I won’t do… and see him digitally.

The internet is a wonderful thing.

CHAPTERTWO

Leo

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