Hot Single Daddy

  A Forbidden Romance

  Cassandra Dee

  Copyright © 2021 by Cassandra Dee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

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  To all the girls who’ve fallen for a gorgeous single dad.

  This one’s for you!

  Also By Cassandra Dee and Friends

  The Forbidden Fun Series

  My Mom’s Fiancé

  My Mom’s Husband

  My Sister’s Husband

  My Son’s Girlfriend

  My Best Friend’s Dad

  My Neighbor’s Husband

  My Best Friend’s Husband

  My Brother’s Teammates

  My Fiancé’s Twin Brothers

  The Neighbor Next Door

  My Dad’s College Friends

  My Bully’s Dad

  My Sister’s Boyfriend

  The Billionaire’s Pet

  The Soldier Next Door

  My Boss’s Father

  The Frat Boys Next Door

  My Dad’s Business Partner

  My Boss’s Husband

  My Bestie’s Dad

  Pregnant By 2 Men

  My Filthy Father In Law

  Daddy In Waiting

  My Stepmom’s Boyfriend

  Unexpected Daddy

  Fake Daddy To Be

  The Baddest Bad Boy

  The Sweetest Revenge

  Hot Single Daddy

  My Accidental Sugar Daddy

  Pregnant By My Stepbrother

  My Boyfriend’s Brother

  My Mom’s Ex-Husband

  The Falling Series

  Falling for My Dad’s Best Friend

  Falling for My Boyfriend’s Dad

  Falling for My Son’s Best Friend

  Falling for My Beautiful Ward

  Falling for My Enemy

  The Double Series

  Double Dare

  Double Exposure

  Double Love

  Double Desire

  Double Trouble

  Double Candy Canes

  The Dirty Series

  The Dirty Hotel King

  My Friend’s Dirty Uncle

  My Dirty Professor

  The Dirty Headmaster

  Sold to Him

  His Filthy Game

  The Dirty Set-Up

  The Billionaires Club

  Sold at the Auction

  Serving Him

  Buy Me

  Virgin for Sale

  Anonymous Encounters

  The #BABYCRAZY Series

  #BABYMACHINE

  #BABYMAKER

  #BABYFEVER

  #BABYCRAZY

  In Love with Menage

  All the Best Men

  Their Secret

  It’s a Deal

  Just One Night

  Just One Night, Vol 1

  Just One Night, Vol 2

  Just One Night, Vol 3

  Just One Night, Vol 4

  The Manning Brothers

  Just One More

  Just One Inch

  Just Two Much

  Just The Tip

  The Dial-A-Date Series

  The President My Lover

  Client No. 6

  Bad Cop

  Reverse Harem

  Seven Brothers of Sin

  Six Ways to Sin

  Three Rockstars of Sin

  Shared

  Shared, Vol. 1

  Shared, Vol. 2

  Shared, Vol. 3

  Shared, Vol. 4

  The Claiming Her Series

  Claiming Her In The Ring

  Claiming Her In The Pool

  Claiming Her At The Bar

  Claiming Her As A Daddy

  Claiming Her In the Forest

  The Boss Series

  My Boyfriend’s Boss

  Pregnant by My Boss

  Pregnant by the CEO

  Pregnant by the Billionaire

  The His Series

  His Captive

  His Woman

  His Love

  His Christmas Gift

  Daddy Academy

  Daddy Academy

  Daddy Academy 2

  Daddy Academy 3

  Standalones

  Don’t Fall For Me

  Tie Me Up Daddy

  Paying My Boyfriend’s Debt

  Beg Me

  Prison Fling

  Cocky AF

  Iron Soldier

  Buck Me Cowboy

  Small Town Secrets

  The President and the Starlet

  His Baby

  Buying a Bride

  The Billionaire’s Kitten

  Closer

  Loving the Babysitter

  Daddy’s Rich Enemy

  Daddy’s Pretty Baby

  Contents

  About This Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: The Sweetest Revenge

  Sneak Peek: Falling for My Beautiful Ward

  About the Author

  About This Book

  Bella: Marcus is the hot single dad every woman in our small town wants. Okay, so he’s actually my friend Faith’s father, but I’ve noticed when the handsome pilot walks around with his shirt off. I’ve seen those six pack abs, and appreciated the chiseled pecs, not to mention the muscled thighs and the … well, you can imagine the rest. But why would Marcus want a curvy, sassy girl like me?

  * * *

  Marcus: Imagine my surprise when I come home late one night and hear panting noises coming from the guest bedroom. My daughter’s best friend is sleeping over, but could it really be the luscious Bella doing that? Of course it is, and suddenly, I have a massive urge to join in. But Bella’s ripe and fertile, and soon, we’re not just setting off fireworks … instead, I’ve put my baby in her belly, and the sweet girl will be mine.

  * * *

  Hey Readers - It’s May December romance at its finest! This story is a follow-up to My Stepmom’s Boyfriend and The Baddest Bad Boy, but don’t worry – all my books are standalones and do not need to be read in any particular order. As always, I specialize in the hottest bad boys and the curviest, sauciest girls who get exactly what they want, need, and crave in the end. Put on your seat belt and enjoy the ride because there’s a huge load of STEAM coming your way! You’ll love the story, I promise! Xoxo, Cassie

  1

  Marcus

  * * *

  I grab my overnight bag from behind my seat and leave the cockpit of the plane. It’s been a long week, and I’m so ready to be back home again.

  “Thanks again, Sarah, Jamie, and Rachel,” I say to the three attendants bustling around the cabin. “Have a great night.” The ladies nod, and I note that my co-pilot Jerome has already left. I get it. He’s got two young children at home, so he’s anxious to get back to them, although of course, it’s after eleven now so his kids are likely fast asleep.

  I’m sure Jerome will kiss the tops of their heads quietly so as not to wake them. I used to do the same thing with my daughter, Faith, after long stints away from home.

  Now, Faith is eighteen and a high school graduate. When she was younger, I didn’t do too much international travel, instead preferring to focus on domestic routes because I wanted to be home as much as possible for my little girl. Occasionally, Faith’s overnight nanny would have to stay with her, but I kept those nights few and far between.

  I’ve been doing a lot more long hauls lately though. My daughter is busy doing her own thing, and if anything, she doesn’t want her old dad around anymore. I’d just be a pain, according to her.

  “You’re back early,” a voice comments.

  I turn and find one of my favorite co-workers, Sabrina, looking haggard while pulling a suitcase behind her.

  “My last flight got canceled,” I tell her. “I’m going to be returning to the States instead of taking another hop.”

  “That’s nice. You’ll get to sleep in your own bed tonight.”

  I grin. “My favorite part of being home is my bed. It’s a damn nice mattress.”

  Sabrina laughs. “I’m about to crash in the staff lounge. My next flight is at six, so I have to be here by five. No point in going home for just a few hours.”

  “Yikes. You should really talk to someone about your schedule. It’s crazy that you’ve been working thirty years and it’s still like this.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t mind it. It’s not like I’ve got any reason to be home. My apartment is nothing more than a place to crash when I have a chance, and I’ve seriously thought about cancelling the lease. I could just stay in a hotel room on the rare nights when I’m around and save thousands of dollars at the same time.”

  I shake my head.

  “I couldn’t live like that because I need roots. Trust me, hotel living gets old fast. Besides, it would
be too weird not to have a home of some sort even if it’s more of a place for your houseplants.”

  The older woman shrugs, her face haggard.

  “I guess I’ve been a wild child since birth. My parents told me I tried to run away about a hundred times as a kid, so houseplants aren’t exactly my thing.”

  I grin and clap her on the shoulder.

  “Always an adventurer. I guess you picked the right profession, then.”

  She nods seriously.

  “Being a flight attendant is my dream job. Has been since I was sixteen.”

  I grin.

  “And you’re great at it. The crew loves you, and guests smile more when you’re on board.”

  It’s the truth. Sabrina is my favorite because she creates a stress-free environment for my passengers. I like knowing everyone is at ease because it makes my job a hell of a lot easier, especially given the shenanigans that have been happening in the air lately. Flying can be hellish for everyone, including the guys in the cockpit.

  “Thanks, Marcus. I’ll see you next week? I think I’m on your London leg.”

  “Sounds great, buddy. See you then.”

  I leave the terminal, and my car is parked where it always is. Pilots get their own section in the garage, which is about half-empty right now. That’s normal for this time of year. A few months ago, during the holiday season, the lot was full to the brim. The busy season sees a lot more pilots doing overtime because everyone has to pitch in, whether they want to or not.

  I throw my overnight bag in the back seat of my BMW. My job has afforded me quite a few luxuries, of which this car and my house are the two most significant ones. I also bought Faith her own vehicle, but it’s a humble Civic. My eighteen-year-old daughter doesn’t need a sports car because teenagers have poor driving records, no matter how much they practice.

  Whistling tunelessly, I get in the Beamer and head home. Once I’m back, I slip off my shoes upon crossing the threshold. The place is quiet, which is surprising because it’s only eleven-thirty. I was expecting Faith to be awake when I returned, given that she’s usually a night owl like I am. Well, who knows? Maybe she’s had a hard week and decided to turn in early.

  But when I flip on the lights in the kitchen, the table is covered in cosmetics. Ugh. The last thing I want after a working a long-haul flight is to have to clean up after my daughter. I see powder scattered about, as well as a number of colorful pots and palettes. There are two sets of purses on the table, both with their contents spilling out onto the surface. Strange. Maybe Faith’s best friend Bella is over? But if so, they both turned in early because I don’t hear a thing.

  Why didn’t the girls clean up though? This is fucking annoying. In my daughter’s defense, I wasn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow morning, so maybe she figured she’d get up early and tidy up before I arrived. Yeah, right. How many teenagers really get up at the crack of dawn to clean the house? More likely, she won’t be up until noon.

  Frowning, I push the mess over to one side and quickly scrub the cleared-off portion of the table. Then, I pull some eggs from the fridge and whip myself up a quick middle-of-the-night breakfast. There’s bread for toast and some microwavable bacon in the fridge as well. It’s not the healthiest meal, but it’ll tide me over until morning.

  As I cook my eggs quietly on the stove, my eyes wander over to the fridge where there’s a picture of Faith and Bella from their graduation in June. They have their arms around one another, smiling into the camera, cheeks pressed together. Their futures lie before them, and the girls make kissy lips as they sparkle with happiness.

  “God, she’s gorgeous,” I say in a low voice, but I’m not talking about my daughter. It’s Bella who’s caught my eye. High school graduation was the last time I saw the curvy brunette in person, and she was absolutely stunning. After the ceremony, Bella whipped off her gown to reveal a tiny dress that showed off her assets. Sure, it was a demure floral print, but the vee between her breasts was daring, and the hem was so short that a flutter of wind would have revealed her panties. I don’t know how her parents let her out of the house wearing that. Honestly, I wanted to drag the pretty girl into an empty classroom and bend her over a desk, but I didn’t. I was my usually reserved self, and Bella did nothing but waggle her fingers in hello before walking off with a switch to her step. I shudder, my staff growing slightly hard just at the memory.

  Suddenly, a burning smell fills my nostrils.

  “Oh, shit,” I exclaim before quickly pulling my pan from the stove. “Fuck!” My eggs are starting to crisp at the edges, but I rescued them just in time.

  Sighing, I plate the eggs and then sit at the table to eat. It’s kind of sad to be eating dinner alone so close to midnight, but that’s my life. Hopefully, I didn’t wake anyone up with my cursing.

  Fortunately, upstairs is still quiet, although I’d love to have some company. Actually, my daughter can stay where she is because I’d prefer for her friend to come down and join me for my midnight breakfast wearing nothing but a tiny tank top and shorts. What are they called? Oh yeah, booty shorts. The thought of Bella in a pair makes me shake my head again. I’m such a dirty old man, but I can’t help it. My thoughts simply keep running wild this late at night, and I’m too tired to try and control them.

  Resigned to the silence, I dig into my meal. The eggs are a bit bland, but with the grease from the microwaved bacon and the crunch of the toast, the whole thing works. I’d much prefer something heartier, like a juicy steak paired with mashed potatoes and fries, but a man has to make do. Maybe I’ll fire up the grill tomorrow. The girls can have hamburgers, or steaks if they’re feeling the vibe.

  Leaning back, I stretch a bit. Long flights take their toll on my body these days. It used to be easier when I was in my twenties and thirties, but now in my forties, the hours make me stiff. The leg from here to Dubai wasn’t bad, but Dubai to India and then back again was pure hell. Plus, I did it in about sixty hours of flight duty, which is the maximum time-in-air allowed for a pilot.

  Oh man, I sound like an old man. When did the years creep up on me? Well, I suppose with a daughter who’s an adult, it just happens. I seriously need to up my work-out routine to address this stiffness though. Generally, I spend a lot of time in the gym, but as a pilot, your schedule can be totally thrown off. Night is day, day is night, and then it’s time to board the plane again. I grimace. Well, it’s never too late to make an attempt. First thing tomorrow, I’ll hit the gym.

  Slowly, I put my dishes in the sink and look around the kitchen. The girls’ mess is still on the table, but you know what? It can wait. There’s no use in stressing about the little things in life because right now, Bella Samuels is upstairs in my guest room sleeping. The sweet thing is probably clutching a pillow while dreaming of unicorns and pink clouds, and it’s not my place to disturb those fantasies.

  2

  Marcus

  * * *

  As I ascend the stairs, my shoulders stoop. God, my entire body can’t wait to collapse on the mattress. Making my way down the long hallway, my steps pause just outside the guest bedroom. All is dark, and the door is shut tight. Again, Bella’s probably inside, clutching a stuffed teddy while dreaming of Tiger Beat celebrities. She’s the same age as my daughter, but eighteen can be a weird transition phase. On the one hand, the girls are legally adults with the bodies of grown women, but on the other, they still inhabit a strange Neverland where childhood has only begun to recede. Hollywood hunks, I remind myself. That’s what she’s fantasizing about.