Page 29 of Santa's Baby

“I don’t have any other clothes to wear,” I confess.

He strokes my outer lips, then delves deeper, spreading my slick arousal up to my clit. “I’ll help you pack a bag tonight. After dinner.”

“Are you going to bring me back here with you?”

“I never want to sleep apart, ever again.” He scrapes his teeth against my neck, his breath hot on my ear. “Daddy has so much to teach you.”

I spread my legs wider, eager for another lesson. He strokes me slowly, unhurried, our breaths the only sound high up in the lighthouse at the edge of town. I come on his fingers, and he holds me through the aftershocks, then licks his fingers clean.

ChapterThirteen

Neely

Christmas Eve, one year later

We arrivefor breakfast and stay all day, and much to my parents’ delight, we bring overnight bags. I live with Ford, of course. I have since that night a year ago, but my mother wants her whole family together on Christmas morning.

We even have matching pajamas to wear.

I have another reason for agreeing to her saccharine plan—a chance to play out a fantasy I’ve been whispering in my boyfriend’s ear for a year now.

After the last puzzle piece is put in its rightful place and a final mug of hot cocoa is downed, I yawn and tell everyone I’m ready for bed. I kiss my mom’s cheek, give my dad a hug, ruffle my little brother’s hair, and then wrap my arms around Ford’s neck, interrupting his game of cards with my father.

“Don’t stay up too late,” I tell him.

He gives me a sweet kiss on the temple. “Do you want me to come up with you?”

I shake my head. “I’m zonked.”

And I yawn again for better effect.

Below the table, I can see his cock twitch against the flannel pajama pants, heavy and full already. He couldn’t get up and follow me right now, even if he wanted to.

My mom beams at me, so pleased with the unexpectedly sweet way my relationship with Ford has played out.

Sorry, Mom, you have no idea what I’m going to get him to do later tonight.

* * *

The door creaks open. I hold my breath and pretend to be asleep.

Ford whispers my name. Then he quietly closes the door. I can hear my parents laughing downstairs.

He stops at the side of my childhood bed. Silence fills the room. No more floor creaking, no more attempts to get me to wake up. He’s just staring at me, curled up on my side.

In the silence, my senses heighten. I hear him breathing, a little unsteady. I keep pretending, and soon his exhales return to normal.

Heavy, thinking breaths.

How he’s going to do this, how I’ll react.

Then I hear a quiet shove of fabric, and skin meets skin. He’s stroking himself.

That makes me hot. I ache for him to peel back the blanket and discover that I’m naked, but he takes his time.

“Fucking sexy little thing,” he mutters, the first sound to pierce the silence in a few minutes. “Matching pajamas and hot cocoa, like I don’t know you’re a horny minx.”

The slap of his hand on his cock speeds up for a moment, then he stops. “Need to see you.”

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