Wrong Daddy

An MM Age Gap Romance
by Jace Wilder

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Pairing: M/M
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Tropes: Age Gap, Dad’s Best Friend, Daddy Kink, Secret Relationship, Grumpy/Sunshine, Praise Kink, Hurt/Comfort

He swiped right on revenge. He fell into love.

Leo Brennan is twenty-three, freshly dumped, and looking for the kind of bad decision that burns the memory of his ex clean out of his system. When a masked hookup app matches him with a silver-haired stranger who radiates control, Leo knows he’s found exactly the chaos he needs.

Silas Vance is forty-eight, newly divorced, and navigating life outside the closet for the first time. He doesn’t do relationships. He doesn’t do feelings. He definitely doesn’t do younger men who look at him like he hung the moon.

Then Leo discovers the truth: Silas isn’t just any older man. He’s Tyler’s father. Leo’s ex-boyfriend’s father.

What starts as one night of revenge becomes an arrangement neither can quit. Secret hotel rooms become Sunday mornings. Boundaries become inside jokes. And the word Daddy stops being a game and starts meaning something that terrifies them both.

But secrets have expiration dates. When Tyler discovers them together, the fallout threatens to destroy everything—Silas’s relationship with his son, Leo’s hard-won independence, and the fragile, fierce love growing between two men who never expected to find each other.

Because the only thing harder than falling for the wrong person… is admitting he might be exactly right.

Wrong Daddy is a high-heat MM age gap romance featuring a twenty-five-year age difference, Daddy kink, D/s dynamics, praise kink, a grand gesture that will make you cry, and a guaranteed happily ever after. Contains explicit content, emotional depth, and two men learning that love isn’t about who you’re supposed to want—it’s about who you can’t live without.

⚠️ Content Notes

This book contains explicit M/M sexual content including: Daddy kink, D/s dynamics, praise kink, possessive behavior, light bondage, and detailed intimate scenes. Also includes: parental estrangement, coming out later in life, abandonment wounds, emotional manipulation (by secondary character), and two men navigating a taboo relationship. All content is between consenting adults. Guaranteed HEA.

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Chapter One: The Match

The thing about getting dumped via text message is that it doesn’t even have the decency to be dramatic.

No slammed doors. No thrown dishes. No rain-soaked confession on a doorstep while a string quartet played something devastating in the background. Just three gray bubbles, a pause that lasted long enough for me to convince myself Tyler was typing something meaningful, and then:

I think we should see other people.

Seven words. Eight months of my life, reduced to seven words and a period. Not even an exclamation point. Not even the courtesy of an emoji—a sad face, a shrug, literally anything to suggest that Tyler Vance experienced a single human emotion while ending things with me.

I stared at the message for a long time. Long enough for the screen to go dark. Long enough for Maya to text me three times about brunch. Long enough for the coffee beside my bed to go cold, which felt like a metaphor I was too tired to unpack.

Then I did what any self-respecting twenty-three-year-old with abandonment issues and a dangerous relationship with impulse decisions would do.

I downloaded Mask.

Mask was the hookup app Maya had been pushing for months—”It’s anonymous until you match, babe, it’s like Grindr for people with taste”—and I’d always refused because I had a boyfriend and standards and a vague sense that anonymous sex was something that happened to other, more interesting people.

Well. I didn’t have a boyfriend anymore. And my standards had just been obliterated by a man who couldn’t be bothered to capitalize the first word of our breakup.

The app was simple. No photos. No names. Just a brief profile—age, general location, what you were looking for—and a matching algorithm that promised “chemistry over aesthetics.” You talked first. Vibed first. Only revealed yourselves if both parties agreed.

I filled out my profile in under two minutes. 23. Chicago. Looking for someone who knows what they want.

The algorithm worked fast. Within an hour, I had three matches. Two were immediate nos—one opened with “hey” (creative) and the other sent a paragraph about his cryptocurrency portfolio (romantic). But the third…

The third was different.

48. Chicago. I don’t play games, and I don’t waste time. If that appeals to you, say something interesting.

I read it three times. Something about the directness of it—the absolute refusal to perform—made my pulse do something it hadn’t done in months. Maybe ever.

I typed back: Interesting is my middle name. My first name is Bad Decision.

The reply came in under a minute: Then we should get along fine. I’ve been making those all year.

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