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His Son’s Girlfriend: A Single Daddy Alpha Male Temptation

Jillian Cumming

Copyright 2017 Jillian Cumming

All Rights Reserved


I did a quick walkthrough of the house. I liked everything ordered and in its place. And without Brent here with his usual young adult clutter, it was a fairly easy job.

Upstairs, I walked past the door to his bedroom and shook my head as I did. I wished that he’d been like me. Joined the army (or even the marines, if he felt strongly about it) made a real man out of himself.

Anything but what he did. Which was to head off to school for an undergrad degree in that most useless of all subjects: philosophy.

I let my hand slide down the banister as I went downstairs to the main floor.

Scratch that, it could have been slightly more useless. It could’ve been gender studies or whatever they were calling it now.

And his mother supported his decision! Of course she did. She always did try to keep Brent soft and pliant.

Disagreements over how to raise him were one of the reasons we split.

I didn’t dwell on that, though. What was past, was past.

He was a sophomore at college now. A man. Legally, at least. In all the ways that actually counted? I wasn’t so sure. And that didn’t sit well with me.

The kitchen was well-ordered, not a dish on the new granite countertop or in the dishwasher. The tile floor gleamed.

No dust bunnies beneath the couch in the living room. All the picture frames lined up and straight.

Down in the basement, I kept my workout room in order. All the dumbbells on their racks, the machines wiped down. I spent an hour in that room every morning. Just because I wasn’t in the service anymore didn’t mean that I shouldn’t keep myself in fighting shape.

I finished up my inspection and proceeded back upstairs, where I grabbed a Miller out the fridge and downed a few mouthfuls of the foamy suds.

I checked my watch while I walked to the front door.

Hnh,” I grunted, “Late. Nothing new about that.” I took another gulp of beer. I had the feeling I’d be through the entire case before the weekend finished up.

The weekend Brent was home from his hippy-dippy college.

And this time he was bringing alone a girl. Girlfriend, that is. I wanted to see what sort of woman my boy could bag,. Though, and I blamed myself for this, I didn’t think he’d know what to do with a girl even if she were spread-eagled on his bed begging for it.

Not the most masculine type, like I said.

I felt a bit of a tingle down under at the thought of a beautiful young woman naked on my bed. Youth was wasted on the young, I knew.

Especially a youth like my son. Like as not, she’d have him wrapped around her thumb. Pussy-whipped. Whatever they called it these days. It all amounted to the same thing: not getting any action because he didn’t know how to keep a woman in her place.

I took another thoughtful gulp of beer, relishing the way the little foam bubbles tickled the roof of my mouth and then my throat. Relishing the spot of warmth that started in my stomach.

I didn’t have long to relish either, though.

Because my son pulled into the driveway in the old Tercel I’d bought and fixed up for him. The exhaust was a little blue and I shook my head. Oil leak. And Brent wouldn’t have a clue what to do about it.

I watched him climb out. Sure enough, he ran around to the passenger side and pulled the door open.

“Oh,” I said when I saw who stepped out.

A petite, perky blond. Her legs impossibly long. She turned and bent over to grab something out of the car and that familiar tingle ran down the front of my stomach.

A perfect figure. The very picture of youth. When she smiled across the car at him and said something, I could swear the whole damn day brightened up.

Brent came scurrying back across and grabbed the tiny tote that she’d pulled out of the car.

They proceeded up the few steps to the front porch, where I already waited with the door open.

“Brent! You’re late,” I said.

He glanced at me, then at the girl. His eyes went down and I suppressed the urge to sigh.

“Yeah, sorry. Danielle wanted to stop at the mall for a bit first,” Brent said.

“That so?” I said, the three of us standing at the cusp of the front hall.

“Brent?” she said, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

He looked at us dully for a second before cluing in.

“Oh, yeah, uh, right. Dad, this is my girlfriend, Danielle. Danielle, this is my dad, Adam.”

I smiled and offered my hand, “Mr. Sedgewick will do for now.”

She took my hand daintily, gripping on my fingers since hers were too small the get a good grip on my palm. Her skin was soft and smooth and warm and it made me wonder if the rest of her felt that way.

“Nice to meet you, Adam,” she said.

She started pulling her hand away but I held on. “Mr. Sedgewick. Let’s get to know each other before we get familiar.”

I held on still. She glanced at Brent, who helped neither of us, then back at me. “Sure, yeah,” she said.

I let her go.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said.

“Whatever Brent told you, I can promise you it was even worse,” I said with a wink, then, “And I’ve heard almost nothing about you.”

I knew next to nothing about her. Almost three months ago, Brent told me he was dating someone. Then nothing.

She gave me a sidelong look and I knew I already had her measure. Already in control of the relationship. So pretty Brent wouldn’t think twice about anything she asked him or told him to do.

She was a sly one. It wouldn’t have surprised me at all if it came out that Brent hadn’t even taken her to bed yet. Not in the way a man takes a woman to bed, that is.

“You two have your old room,” I told Brent, “If you guys want to get unpacked. I figured I’d throw some burgers on the grill for supper.”

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