Sold To My Ex’s Dad: An Age Gap, Secret Baby Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)

As Patrick’s front door swings open, it’s like crossing into a different universe. Even though I’ve seen the house before, it still impresses me.

I can’t help but let out a low whistle this time, feeling more confident and comfortable in our relationship.

‘I have to ask how a chef can afford a palace like this. Savor must be printing money,” I tease, trying to make light of the stark contrast between his place and my cramped apartment.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, a flush of embarrassment heats my cheeks.

Smooth, Allie, real smooth.

But Patrick just chuckles, shaking his head as he takes my coat. ‘The restaurant does okay, but Savor isn’t my only gig. I’ve got a few investments here and there that do pretty well,’ he explains, leading me into the spacious living room that overlooks a manicured backyard.

My curiosity piqued, I can’t help but wonder just how many zeroes are in his bank balance. But as he pulls a bottle of wine from a sleek, built-in rack, all thoughts of his finances start to fade away.

‘I hope you like Pinot Noir,’ he says, effortlessly popping the cork. It should go well with the evening I have planned.’

“Oh, no, I’m okay with just some water,” I say, garnering a puzzled look from Patrick. Thankfully, he pulls a bottle of Perrier out instead of questioning my refusal of alcohol.

The smooth sound of jazz starts to fill the room as he hands me the water, soft saxophone riffs mingling with the clink of our glasses. I take a sip, the bubbles of the sparkling drink perfectly matching the sultry undercurrents of the music.

‘You know, this is already dangerously close to perfect,’ I admit, feeling the warmth of the ambiance he’s created starting to seep into my bones.

He smiles, that charming, confident grin that’s all Patrick. ‘Only close? I’ll have to try a bit harder then,’ he replies, his tone playful yet promising.

As we move to sit on the plush sofa, he raises his glass toward me. ‘To an evening of no interruptions and getting to know each other a little better.’

I clink my glass against his, the spark in his eyes mirroring my own feelings. ‘To a very private tasting menu,’ I quip back, feeling bold under his gaze.

He laughs, a sound that stirs something deep inside me. ‘Oh, I assure you, the night’s specials are definitely worth exploring.’

I shoot Patrick a playful smirk. ‘So, what’s on the menu for tonight?’ I tease, giving my glass a little twirl as I sink deeper into the plush sofa cushions.

Patrick nods as he sips his wine, his expression shifting just a tad toward serious, but those twinkling eyes of his don’t lose their shine. ‘I have a few ideas if you’re up for it,’ he says, his voice dropping to a deliciously tempting pitch that makes my heart do a little skip.

I nod, and he continues.

‘Tonight, I was thinking we could explore some boundaries, like you asked,’ he begins, his voice low and enticing. ‘Have you ever experimented with silk ropes or blindfolds, Allie?’

I shake my head, my curiosity clearly written across my face.

He smiles, picking up on my intrigue. ‘Imagine this,’ he continues, ‘silk ropes are gentle; they’re about feeling the restraint without it hurting. It’s more about the sensation of being held, of surrendering control in a way that’s completely safe.’ He pauses, making sure I’m with him so far. I nod, completely drawn into the visualization.

‘And then there’s the blindfold,’ he adds, his eyes locking onto mine with a look that’s both challenging and reassuring. ‘It heightens every other sense. When you’re unable to see, every touch, every taste, every whisper becomes more intense, more electrifying.’

He reaches over to the back of the sofa, pulling up a smooth, black silk blindfold and a length of matching silk rope. ‘When you allow me to place these on you,’ he continues, handling them with a familiarity that sends another wave of excitement through me, ‘you’re trusting me to lead, to take care of you. It’s all about enhancing the experience, pushing the boundaries just a little, in a way that we both enjoy.’

I find myself nodding, the idea more appealing by the second. ‘It’s all consensual,’ he stresses. ‘We’ll go only as far as you’re comfortable. We can stop at any time; you just need to say the word.

‘Everything’s built on trust, Allie. Nothing happens without your green light,’ he reassures me, his tone earnest and his gaze steady.

Feeling wrapped in the safety of his words, I nod, excitement mingling with a flutter of nerves. ‘I trust you, Patrick. I want to do this,’ I say, my voice bold and a bit daring.

His smile softens, radiating warmth as he reaches out to caress my cheek gently. ‘We’ll take it slow, and remember, you can call it off anytime,’ he tells me, infusing the moment with tenderness.

It’s not just his swanky house or the sultry jazz that makes me feel at ease—it’s the protective atmosphere he’s crafted with his respect for boundaries. ‘Show me these specials of yours,’ I reply in a sultry tone.

He stands and offers his hand, which I eagerly take, feeling the reassuring strength in his grip. He then leads me toward a more private area of his house, where we can explore without interruption.

I can’t wait.