Page 4 of One Night With My Grumpy Professor Daddy

“Hmm….”

“I want a big bow for my hair!”

“A bow, huh?”

“I want a red one—that’s my favorite color.”

“It is, I thought it was pink?”

“That was when I was three, but grandma says I’ll be four years old soon. So now my favorite color is red.”

I smile softly at the logic. “Oh, I see. A big red bow. Coming right up.”

“Yay!”

“OK, baby, Daddy will see you soon. Make sure to be a good girl for Claudia and Grandma, OK?”

“OK, Daddy, I will.”

“Daddy loves you, angel.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

The call ends, and I look around, realizing I’m almost at my hotel. It was a smart choice getting the closest penthouse to the venue—I get to walk the city rather than driving everywhere. My busy life has its perks, but there’s nothing like some solid alone time.

Just before I make it to the hotel, I change my mind and quickly detour, deciding to pick up the red bow for Zoe. With the help of my phone, I walk around checking all the different stores—I’m amazed that all she can think to ask for is a simple little bow. And I know it’s only a matter of time before she’ll be extorting me for a lot more than that. One day, it’ll be a Porsche or, who knows what. And God help me because I won’t hesitate to give it to her. “Here you go, sir.” The cashier packages the bow perfectly and hands me the little bag. “Thank you.”

Walking out of the store, my phone dings—I glance to see the title of the mail. ‘Offer of professorship.’ My eyes widen as I’m about to click open the mail when a sudden movement forces my phone out of my hand. “Shit!” I look around, confused by the flurry of moments, when I feel hands pulling at my jacket.

Tilting my gaze toward the floor, I see a woman holding on to me for her dear life. Her eyes are shut tightly, and she mutters, ‘Oh my God, I’m dying.’ Thanks to Zoe, I read her lips perfectly—

Is she dying?

“Should I call an ambulance?” I ask while looking around for my phone.

“No, no. I’m fine.” Her grip tightens, and I figure she’s trying to stand.

“Let me help you up.” I grab her, helping her to her feet. Once she’s finally upright and not hanging from my jacket, I get a good look at her. And, wow, she is a stunner. Auburn brown hair, pink full lips, and plump tits, nearly spilling out of her dress— it’s no wonder my cock responds the way it does.

“Hey, are you sure you’re OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you.”

For a second, her face almost matches the color of her hair. I take in her features again and conclude it’s not just the one thing that makes her beautiful—it’s all of her. But looking at her flawless skin, it’s obvious she’s way too young for me.

“OK, Daphne is right, maybe I am drunk,“ she mutters again. Does she always talk out loud to herself? Then as if she remembers I’m in front of her, her cheeks grow flusher, causing my dick to flinch against my slacks.

What is this girl doing to me?

“I’m so sorry,” she says. But my tongue is stuck, glued to the roof of my mouth, and I’m unable to say anything else. Her beauty is obvious, and her energy wild, not the glossy magazine type, but radiant all over. Her features stand out, and so does my skin from where we had contact.

Just gorgeous.

She’d be running, not apologizing, if she knew what was going through my head right now— And honestly, at this point, I couldn’t blame her.

I’m not good for anyone.

As though she can read my thoughts, she turns around to leave. “I should go. My car is waiting. Thanks again!” She blurts, picks up a paper bag from the floor, and disappears. I shake my head. She’s hot, young and carefree.

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