Warning: this collection contains 5 sexy age gap instalove romance short stories featuring young women and their determined alpha males! Includes Caught by My Professor, Working for My Dad's Best Friend, Waiting on My Dad's Former Friend, Trapped in the Storm With My Boyfriend's Dad, and Claimed by the Mountain Man.
Caught by My Professor
My professor stares at my hand. Like an idiot, I'm still holding the answer key. A corner of his mouth curves up. "Were you planning to cheat on the upcoming exam?"
I drop the answer key like the paper has the ability to give me a second-degree burn. "I, um, well, I..." God, I might as well tattoo, Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater, on my forehead.
"Is there any way you could not tell anyone about this?" I ask. Probably a futile question.
To my surprise, he says, "I'm willing to keep this a secret, but..."
I widen my eyes when he plays with a lock of my hair. Is a professor allowed to do that?
"You might not like my proposal." A wicked smile appears on his face. "Or you might like it very much."
Working for My Dad's Best Friend
Dad's friend may be a rich jerk who spends obscene sums of money on vases and is twice my age, but I can't deny that I find him attractive with his messy auburn hair, those dark blue eyes, and the five o'clock shadow on his defined jawline. If he weren't close buddies with Baba and I were far less acquainted with his personality, I might have hooked up with him.
Okay, I would have definitely hooked up with him.
Waiting on My Dad's Former Friend
He asks, "Aren't you going to ask me why I fell out with your father?"
Though I'm curious, I reply, "That's between you and my dad."
"We fell out over you."
I blink. "Over me? Why?"
"Your father asked me to help him with some of his debts. I told him I would give him money...on one condition."
Dad hador hasdebts? This is news to me. My father is an obsessive couponer and refuses to buy any clothes that don't come off the clearance rack.
"Why would that end your friendship?" I ask.
"Because the 'one condition' was having you."
Trapped in the Storm With My Boyfriend's Dad
Surprising me, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the dining room. The contact causes my pulse to flutter.
A voice in my head hisses, Oh my God, you can't develop a crush on your ex-boyfriend's dad.
Despite the voice, I find myself sneaking glances at Mr. Fleming. Gabe inherited his good looks, and I'm looking right at the source. Both father and son have dark blond waves of luscious hair, bright hazel eyes, and effortlessly fit bodies that look damn fine in designer clothes.
Claimed by the Mountain Man
"I need to get out of here," I whisper. But how? My horrible sense of direction is what landed me here in the first place, and if I attempted venturing into the woods again, I might actually get eaten by a bear.
"Hello."
I nearly fall off the bed.
"Careful," he growls, catching me before I hit the floor.
My pulse jumps. I was right about the stranger's size. He is huge. His arms are like muscular tree trunks, and I swear he must be 7 feet tall.
He's also super hot, something I did not expect. I'm typically not into bearded guys, but that black beard really suits his chiseled face and brings out his green eyes.
Caught by My Professor
My professor stares at my hand. Like an idiot, I'm still holding the answer key. A corner of his mouth curves up. "Were you planning to cheat on the upcoming exam?"
I drop the answer key like the paper has the ability to give me a second-degree burn. "I, um, well, I..." God, I might as well tattoo, Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater, on my forehead.
"Is there any way you could not tell anyone about this?" I ask. Probably a futile question.
To my surprise, he says, "I'm willing to keep this a secret, but..."
I widen my eyes when he plays with a lock of my hair. Is a professor allowed to do that?
"You might not like my proposal." A wicked smile appears on his face. "Or you might like it very much."
Working for My Dad's Best Friend
Dad's friend may be a rich jerk who spends obscene sums of money on vases and is twice my age, but I can't deny that I find him attractive with his messy auburn hair, those dark blue eyes, and the five o'clock shadow on his defined jawline. If he weren't close buddies with Baba and I were far less acquainted with his personality, I might have hooked up with him.
Okay, I would have definitely hooked up with him.
Waiting on My Dad's Former Friend
He asks, "Aren't you going to ask me why I fell out with your father?"
Though I'm curious, I reply, "That's between you and my dad."
"We fell out over you."
I blink. "Over me? Why?"
"Your father asked me to help him with some of his debts. I told him I would give him money...on one condition."
Dad hador hasdebts? This is news to me. My father is an obsessive couponer and refuses to buy any clothes that don't come off the clearance rack.
"Why would that end your friendship?" I ask.
"Because the 'one condition' was having you."
Trapped in the Storm With My Boyfriend's Dad
Surprising me, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the dining room. The contact causes my pulse to flutter.
A voice in my head hisses, Oh my God, you can't develop a crush on your ex-boyfriend's dad.
Despite the voice, I find myself sneaking glances at Mr. Fleming. Gabe inherited his good looks, and I'm looking right at the source. Both father and son have dark blond waves of luscious hair, bright hazel eyes, and effortlessly fit bodies that look damn fine in designer clothes.
Claimed by the Mountain Man
"I need to get out of here," I whisper. But how? My horrible sense of direction is what landed me here in the first place, and if I attempted venturing into the woods again, I might actually get eaten by a bear.
"Hello."
I nearly fall off the bed.
"Careful," he growls, catching me before I hit the floor.
My pulse jumps. I was right about the stranger's size. He is huge. His arms are like muscular tree trunks, and I swear he must be 7 feet tall.
He's also super hot, something I did not expect. I'm typically not into bearded guys, but that black beard really suits his chiseled face and brings out his green eyes.
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