Page 3 of Single Daddy To Go
Whoever this is, he ought to narrate romance novels, I think to myself. But when I look up, it’s clear that the voice in question belongs to literally the hottest man I have ever seen in person.
He towers over me. Some tall men look awkward and stooped when they’re that tall, but this guy is built like a marble statue. He’s imposing, with a broad chest beneath a well-tailored sport coat.
He’s probably in his forties, but incredibly handsome with a full head of black hair cut in a loose style and the most amazing pair of eyes. They’re blue like the ocean on a wish-you-were-here postcard of some exotic beach, and they seem to be staring right through me, cutting into my soul like a diamond-sharp blade.
My jaw drops. It’s everything I can do not to let out a sound to go with the expression. It’s like I’ve just ridden over a bump in the road in a car, like some organ inside of my abdomen has leaped up and made its presence known. I feel a spreading warmth in my pussy, suddenly very aware of his presence in my secret spot.
Wow. This is a new one. I’ve been turned on by hot male celebrities or by stunning male models, but this is an altogether new experience. I feel steamy all over, my skin tingling. I’m worried that I might be blushing and hope to god that my face isn’t beet red. This is deeply inappropriate.
Quickly, my eyes go to the ground, avoiding the man’s gaze. I don’t want him to notice how turned on I am. I don’t want him to laugh at me, some silly fat girl getting all hot and bothered in her workplace over a parent here to pick up his kid. But this guy is so attractive that he’s probably used to it. He probably gets this kind of reaction all the time. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down.
This is my job. I’m here to take care of kids, and not act like some silly schoolgirl. Whoever this gorgeous hunk of man is, I’ve never seen him before, and I’m not about to let a child go home with the wrong person. I look back up, meeting the man’s penetrating eyes again.
“Yes, Katie Lockhart attends daycare here at Ladybug Tots. May I ask who you might be?”
The handsome man grins once as his blue eyes flash.
“Her dad,” he rumbles deep in his chest. “Who else? Now I’d like to see my daughter please.”
2
Rob
The pretty girl gazes up at me with the most beautiful big brown eyes I’ve ever seen. I feel a little taken aback, but I suppose it’s to be expected. After all, I don’t get to Ladybug Tots much. My daughter is three years old, but this is the first time I’ve ever picked her up from day care.
After all, I run a multi-national conglomerate with investments in multiple sectors of multiple world economies and my high-powered lifestyle doesn’t leave a lot of room for errand running. I haven’t even done my own shopping in decades, much less cooking and cleaning.
Plus, I used to be married, so my ex did a lot of the kid-related things like pick-ups and drop-offs. But that arrangement has gone the way of the dinosaur like everything else about my marriage.
Technically, we’ve been divorced for a year, but the drama has showed no signs of letting up. After a protracted legal battle and a whole lot of time spent in court and lawyer’s offices, we’ve finally settled our custody issues. My ex, Lindsay, and I have hammered out an agreement to share custody of Katie, our little girl. The schedule is asinine, like most things devised by my former spouse, but it’s good enough for now.
But it’s been a huge change because before, Lindsay took care of most kid-related activities since I had no time. Now, I’m making an effort to participate in Katie’s life. It’s the right thing to do because I’ve heard the horror stories: supposedly little girls who grow up without father figures are insecure as adults, and let men treat them badly. As a result, I’m having to rearrange aspects of my work to spend more time with my daughter, but it’s worth it.
After all, I do love my daughter. I can’t regret my marriage, even though it was something of a disaster, because it brought me Katie. I just wish I didn’t have to deal with my ex. Lindsay is a train wreck mixed with a personality disorder, and it’s only gotten worse since we divorced.
I was going to send my assistant, Bernard, to pick Katie up today, but at the last minute I decided to head over myself, since I’d never been to the place before and figured I ought to check it out and make sure everything is going well for my little girl. Ever since the break up, I’m doing everything I can to make sure I’m being the best father I can be. I know the divorce hasn’t been easy on Katie, and I don’t want my choices to mess up her life. The most important thing in the world to me used to be myself, but now it’s this child.
“I’m Rob Lockhart,” I say to the beautiful woman, who stands up, smoothing down the front of her dress. I notice that she’s got glitter glue stuck right above her left breast. They’re quite the set: big round mounds that stretch the fabric even though she’s obviously going for a conservative look.
“Katie’s father?” asks the woman, who I can’t help but notice is blushing beautifully, her round cheeks turning a particularly appealing shade of pink.
“That’s the one,” I say, smiling. Although it sounds stuck-up, she’s far from the first woman to have such a reaction to me. Girls have been throwing themselves at my feet since my voice dropped at age fifteen. I’ve loved and left my share, but something about this one feels different. She seems so sweet and innocent, and not at all like the desperate cougars in my social circle dripping in designer duds.
In another life, I might have invited her out to my car or a cloakroom and had my way with the woman, but having a daughter of my own has slowed my roll on that sort of thing. I don’t want to take advantage of a sweet woman’s heart, especially not one who’s responsible for my daughter’s care. She intrigues me, however.
She nods, pulling herself together. “I’ll get Katie,” the woman says simply. Her voice is very soft, gentle and warm. When she turns, I watch her ample buttocks sway as she moves, my attention focused on her like a laser beam. It’s as if the motion of her generous ass is the only thing in the whole world. I wouldn’t even call myself an ass man, but I want to get lost in this one.
This girl is not my usual type, but something about her makes me feel a pulse of instant attraction, like a magnet pulling at my eyes, my heart, and my thick shaft. My skin starts to tingle, the air between us pulsing with some strange electricity.
But what the hell? We’re surrounded by little children at the moment. In fact, I’m about to pick up myownlittle child. It would be deeply inappropriate to allow the rising arousal that I’m feeling make itself known. I pinch my arm and force myself to focus on the image of a smashed rat that I saw the other day on the sidewalk on Park Avenue, flattened like a sheet of paper. It was disgusting with bloody, matted fur and grisly rat organs oozing onto the cement. There, that does it. The edge is taken off.
Besides, usually I date blondes with bodies like whippets, thin girls with thigh gaps and small breasts and skin stretched taught over countable ribs. The day care provider is almost an exact opposite of my go to type. She’s young, but her body is that of a real woman, and not a girl. She’s very curvy, plus sized even, with luscious tits and wide hips. I search the files of my memory, but I don’t think I’ve touched a pair of breasts as large as these.
Her hair is a wild mane of brown curls, which match her velvety coffee-colored eyes. Her face is open and kind, with a gentle smile. I love the sound of her voice. Plus, she seems really with good with kids. As she walks to get my daughter, other children come up to her. She treats all of them with kindness and care.
Maybe being a father has changed me. Maybe the ongoing drama with my ex has soured me on skinny blondes forever. Or maybe the girl is just so gorgeous that my usual tastes don’t matter. Either way, I can’t stop thinking about her.
When she returns, I have to force myself not to stare at her cleavage. She’s got Katie by the hand, which helps. My little blonde angel squeals when she sees me. “Daddy!”