Page 9 of Santa's Baby

Maybe I should have seen it sooner, connected the dots.

But I’m still too young, so any sooner would have been even worse. Maybe he’ll always be uncomfortable with the fact I’m Dan’s daughter, and he watched me grow up.

“You were never inappropriate,” I whisper, sliding my thigh back and forth against his knuckles. Pretending he’s the one touching me. Wanting him, desperately, to skim his fingers up the inside of my leg. “Not even once I was old enough to want you to be.”

ChapterFour

Ford

She can’t meanany of this. She must still be feverish.

Her thigh doesn’t feel hot, pressed against my hand. The urge to take the blatant offer and haul her into my lap is almost impossible to resist.

I manage to anyway, and the howling protest of my inner demons is reflected in the scowl on her face as I pull my hand back from her flesh.

Standing, I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her around, pointing her back to the stairs.

“You should go to bed,” I murmur in her ear.

“I’m not tired.”

“Then I should feed you.” I step around her and head for the stairs myself.

“I’m not hungry,” she hollers after me.

I ignore her.

In the kitchen, I pull out a bottle of wine, some cheese, and an apple.

Neely stomps past me, grabs the wine, and puts it back in the fridge. “We need to be sober for this.”

“For you to go to sleep, wait out the storm, and then go home to your parents’ place unmolested? No, I don’t think I need to be sober for that.”

She hops up on the counter beside me with the enthusiasm of a nineteen-year-old. Because—

“I’m not hungry or tired. I’m horny.” She says it bluntly, like she’s all grown up and casual about sex, but her cheeks turn pink.

“I can’t help you with that.”

She catches my hand and pulls me sideways until I’m standing in front of her—between her legs. She shifts to the edge of the counter, and now she’s in my arms. “That’s not what I want you to say.”

“It’s all that I’ve got.” My erection says otherwise, and we both know it.

She grinds her hips against me, my T-shirt riding up so I can see her panties pulled tight against her mound as she rubs on my cock.

“Neely—” The raw fucking need in my voice kills me because it matches the look on her face. “What do you want from me?”

“Everything.”

“I’m trying to be a good man here.”

“I don’t want you to be good.” She tosses her hair and pokes me in the chest, her gaze triumphant even as I still feel lost in a storm. “I want you to be free.”

How did she know? Howcouldshe know?

Her fingers climb my torso slowly, like a filthy game of Itsy Bitsy Spider. “I see you, Ford. You’ve been wound tight my entire life. When do you let go?”

Never. “Letting go is dangerous.”

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