Page 44 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

Henry’s jaw clenches, eyes unfocused while he swallows back his own groan as he pumps his cum into me, filling me up.

I never imagined being stuffed with a man’s seed would be so hot, but it is. Like the primal woman in me enjoys the way he claims me.

He holds onto me as we shake together.

“Fuck, you’re magnificent.”

I hum back at him, and he laughs as he pulls the damp fabric from my mouth. “Sorry about that.”

“Mmm. Don’t be.” I nudge him a little. “But do let me up.”

“Right.” Unfolding me, he watches how his cum leaks from me, his cock twitching in his hand as he stuffs himself away.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes.” That was a more serious answer than I expected. Did he like the idea of getting me pregnant?

I pop up to check my bedroom door. Still closed. Thank God.

“I need to …”

“Go clean up.” Henry nods, fighting back his smile.

I roll my eyes and go to the bathroom, cleaning up what I can. When I return, he’s looking around my living room—the pictures of Paxton and I, of Patrick and Jackie, the knickknackswe’ve all collected together, the box of fortune cookie fortunes Jackie and I have collected from long, sleepless nights studying and ordering in from Moo Chow Wings just off campus.

Oh shit. Jackie will be home soon.

I shuffle over to Henry, taking his arm and stalling at how nice his bicep is before I shake it off. Then, he covers my fingers with his own and my heart melts a little bit.

“Henry.” My voice holds none of my usual strength. I don’t think I like it.

The ever-perceptive man notices the shift, and he turns me into him without missing a beat. “What’s wrong?”

Heat blossoms across my cheeks and ears, and I hate it. “Jackie’s about to get home. I need you to?—”

A firm knock beats the door, and I flinch. Only one person would knock—other than the one who looks two seconds from trying to devour me again.

“Shit.” Unlatching myself from Henry, I creep toward the door and open it with a grateful smile, refusing to show the nerves that have rocketed up my pulse. “Hey, Dad.”

PAIGE

Dad’s grin is full of love—like the warm hug he wraps me in before he takes two steps past the door. I soak it in. The feeling of being surrounded by him and his ocean-scented aftershave brings the kind of comfort that stems from a solid childhood. From knowing that Dad will love me no matter what I do.

Even if I disappoint him, which I’m sure he would be if he knew about what happened in this apartment just minutes ago. God, I hope it doesn’t smell like sex in here.

When I step back from his embrace, I take a deep breath and wave him inside.

“Aw, baby. Have a rough day? How’s Bubba?” Dad steps in and blinks for a second when Henry steps forward. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Just checking in. Got worried about the family emergency.” Henry grabs his jacket off the back of a kitchen chair. How can he act so relaxed, so calm, right now?

“He helped with dinner and watched Paxton while I took a shower.” I suddenly feel entirely underdressed. And tired. Limbs heavy and drooping. I could use a good night’s sleep. I’d settle for a nap.

“You look like you needed the help. Well, I came prepared.” Dad holds up the grocery bag I got him when the plastic bag ban went into effect. “Medicine for the monkey, some things to settle his tummy, and a few treats for you both.”

He puts it on the counter and shakes Henry’s hand. “You don’t have to run away on my account.”

Henry waves it off, and my heart is seizing in my chest. Is he going to give us away? I’m not ready for that conversation. With either of them.

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