Sinfully Yours, Mr. G

Chapter 1

Janessa's POV

The house had always been my safe place.

Today, it wasn’t.

The familiar Cedar and sandalwood scent wrapped around me as I waltzed into my best friend, Alesha’s home.

The place I’d spent half my childhood. 

But the man at the kitchen island wasn’t part of those memories.

His shoulders were broad. Face, rectangular with a square jaw. Salt-and-pepper at his temples. And a shirt stretched across a chest that looked carved from stone.

He leaned against the marble like he owned it, swirling red wine lazily in his glass.

He definitely just wasn't any man. His aura screamed zaddy- if I ever saw one. Gosh. I almost licked my lips.

I snapped myself out of my intrusive thoughts. What was I thinking?

My pulse tripped and my palms went wet just looking at him.

Damn. Who was he?

“Hello, Sir… who are you?” My voice wavered, but I laced it with attitude.

His grey eyes lifted calmly, locking on me.

He didn’t answer. Just studied me, soft and deliberate. Like I was a puzzle he wanted to solve.

Finally, his voice rumbled low. “I should be asking you.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks and down my body.

Why did he sound like that? Why couldn’t I stop staring at his mouth, his forearms, the scruff at his jaw?

And why did he look so familiar?

“I’m Alesha’s friend. We’re having a graduation sleepover. So… who are you?” I retorted.

Still nothing. Just that ghost of a smirk.

Hmph. Seriously?

“Does Mr. G know you’re drinking his expensive wine?” I sassed, hoping my jab would crack his silence.

One of his brow arched. Voice dipping, rougher. “Mr. G? …Only one person ever called me that.”

“Janess-?”

“Nessa! You’re finally here!”

Alesha’s squeal cut him off. She barreled down the stairs, long black hair flying. She nearly knocked me over. 

We laughed, hugging. But my eyes kept darting back to him.

And his? He tried not to, but every flicker gave him away.

Every stolen glance poured heat through me.

“Dad, why didn’t you tell me Janessa was here already?” Alesha scolded, fanning her fair skin.

I froze. Dad?

The hot stranger unraveling me with just a look was…my best friend’s father?

Mr. G?

Oh no. No. No.

The same man who taught me to ride a bike. Who bought us ice cream when we scraped our knees. Who chased us across the lawn with water balloons.

Only he wasn’t the Mr. G I remembered.

That man was lean, clean-shaven, easy-smiled.

This man? 

Grey hair threaded in his brown hair. A beard and mustache framed his lips that looked far too sinful. His shoulders were so buff they blocked the kitchen light. 

He was a living breathing silver fox. Whew.

And then he hugged me the way he always had. 

Only now, chest to chest, dress to pants, I felt every inch of him. His hands rested politely on my waist, but lingered a beat too long.

“I can’t believe it’s little Janessa,” he said, voice warm, but grip steel.

“Not so little anymore,” I teased, breathless. “Careful, you’ll break your back, pops.”

“Not a chance. Never too old for my girl.” he teased back.

He lowered me slowly. Too slowly. My dress slid higher, and my skin burned where it brushed against him.

My God. 

Safe places weren’t supposed to feel like this.

“So tell me,” he asked, flashing a perfect smile, “how does it feel to graduate? Ready to take on the labour market?”

“Tch. Mr. G, I’m not doing all that,” I laughed, clinging to old banter. 

“Alesha and I already have our own digital business.”

“But you’ll need experience,” he countered smoothly.

“For what, Dad? Nine-to-five rat race?” Alesha jumped in.

“I manage online brands. Plus influencing. Janessa creates, builds and markets online brands too. And businesses. We're good.”

She lectured. 

He nodded, eyes meeting mine. A mock-humbled expression on his face.

“Thank you for the brief on your portfolios,” he commented.

I laughed, leaning on the counter. Holding his gaze. 

“Well… “ I drawled. “If you want to employ us in your big real estate company and pay handsomely, we’ll consider it.”

His eyes darkened. His mouth curved, slow.

And trust my pulse to skip.

“You haven’t changed,” he said. “Still a smart mouth.” His gaze flicked fast to my lips.

“You have changed,” I whispered before I could stop myself, tilting my head. “Does that mean you missed me?”

The air tightened.

His voice was deep as a growl. “Of course. And I can’t wait to get to know the new you.”

I hid a smile as my gaze kept assessing him. 

“I can't wait to know the new you either.” 

My eyes traced the bulk of his body from beneath my lashes.

The calm but commanding presence about him. The way he looked familiar and different at the same time.  

Part of me screamed to look away. 

And yet, another part was burning to memorize every detail. 

Wasn't this wrong?

But Jesus, my body didn't care. My heartbeat and lower parts thundered traitorously.

He sipped his wine. Wiped his mouth with his thumb and spoke again. I licked my lips without thinking.

They were normal words. Normal movements.

But they felt drenched in something else…Something dangerous.

Truthfully, I couldn’t wait to get to know him too.

We stood in the kitchen, catching up. 

When he leaned closer to hear me over the music, I felt the heat of his arm brush mine. And my breath hitched involuntarily.

I told myself it was nothing, but my belly fluttered. 

Was it possible to be both comforted and undone at the same time?

And through it all, one word kept echoing in my head, hotter and dirtier each time.

Daddy.