Page 28 of Daddy Christmas

“Unghh.”

He chuckled, out of breath, and pulled out of me before he lay down beside me.

I winced and shuddered at the soreness in my butt.

“What if…” I had to catch my breath. “We called in sick?”

“Oh goodness, don’t fucking tempt me, boy.”

I mean…

* * *

I wriggled my butt, taking him deeper, and glanced at him over my shoulder.

I had a firm grasp on his firm, sexy thighs.

And he had a firm grasp on his sleepy smile. Then he brought a finger to his lips, and I nodded. I was gonna be quiet.

“Yes, at nine AM,” he confirmed into his phone. “No, just cancel it. I have a fever, so postponing it won’t help. Hopefully, I’ll be in tomorrow.”

I blew him a kiss.

He winked at me.

We were playing hooky today!

DECEMBER 10

“Yeah, I’m really not feeling well,” I croaked. I reached over to where Daddy was slicing up strawberries, and I stole a piece and popped it into my mouth. Delicious breakfast coming up! He was even making pancakes. And I was just sitting here on the counter, wearing his dress shirt, and enjoying the porn of watching Daddy cook in his boxer briefs.

“It’s interesting, though,” Mya said, drawing out every syllable. “Mr. Williams was complaining that Mr. Abrams called in sick too, for the second day in a row. Just like you did.”

“That is interesting,” I said. “Maybe he gave me the flu the other day. I should call and yell at him.”

Daddy narrowed his eyes at me and failed to hide his amusement.

I licked some strawberry juice off my thumb.

“Yeah, you do that,” Mya deadpanned. “Enjoy your fuckfest. I gotta go call the print place in Paris.”

I stifled a giggle. “Ask for Raphael—he speaks English. Have a great day! Bye.”

Soon as I’d ended the call, Daddy came over and stepped between my legs.

“So this fake flu is my fault, huh?” He snuck in and growl-kissed my neck.

I laughed. “Totally your fault.”

He shook his head, and we met in a kiss. He must miss his shirt, because he was often trying to get inside it. Or he just liked skin-on-skin!

“You’re a terrible influence,” he murmured into the kiss. “But don’t stop. I haven’t been this happy in decades.”

I smiled and locked my arms around his neck. “I like making you happy.”

He’d already shown me he liked making me happy too. Case in point, he was having an actual decorator come over here today to turn his home into a winter wonderland—because of my midnight Christmas bitching the other night. I’d balked at him, maybe I’d even cursed once or twice, but he’d silenced me. He’d kissed me. He’d said he finally felt like the holidays were worth celebrating.

“When do we have to leave?” I scratched his beard a little and kissed his jaw.

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