Page 15 of A Very Daddy Christmas

The memory of Sebastian’s kiss still haunts me. More than once, I’ve woken from dreams about him, aboutthem, my pussy wet and hot and aching for the real thing. I think living with them in the same house is going to be a new form of torture.

“Alright, time to get this show on the road,” I say and get out of the car.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the bakery.”

“Yes ma’am,” I shoot back and go to grab my bags from the trunk.

I don’t even have the chance to pull them out before I find myself flanked by Waylan and Riggs, who take over for me.

“Allow us,” Riggs says.

I give them both a shy smile as they take my bags. They give Eva a brief but warm, “Hello!” before they go back inside. Sebastian waits for me on the steps while I watch Eva wave at me one last time before driving off.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Sebastian asks, standing a few inches too close to me.

I offer another smile. “Just trying to figure out what to do next.”

“You could come in,” he replies. “Unless you want to stay out here until nightfall. It gets kind of creepy, though. This neighborhood gets eerily quiet after dark. Even the lampposts flicker.”

“You’re right, that does sound creepy.”

He laughs and puts an arm around my shoulders, beckoning me to join him. I can feel his warm touch through my denim jacket, the sensation of his fingertips sending ripples across my skin.

I keep my head high and a smile on as he escorts me through the garden before heading up the stairs and into his home. “Welcome. I hope you’ll feel at home here. It’s our little slice of paradise.”

Waylan and Riggs have already gone upstairs. I can hear their footsteps, the sound of a door opening. I can hear the TV on in another room spouting familiar cartoon voices.

“Thank you for having me,” I reply. “Is Dario in his room?”

“Yeah, watching his favorite show. It’s the weekend, so we let him have his way until you got here.”

“Good,” I say. “I am yet another change being added into his life. You know he’s going to need some time to adjust to all of this, right?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” Sebastian sighs. “But he seemed pretty excited about you coming to live with us for a while. He wanted to know what your favorite color was.”

“Oh, that’s easy. Pink.”

“Any kind of pink?” He raises a suspicious eyebrow.

“The dusty pink.”

“I think Dario was asking because he wants to draw you a picture. Something to put up on the wall in your room. He was digging through the colored pencil box when he asked me.”

I am genuinely touched. “He’s so sweet.”

“Let me give you the tour,” Sebastian says, then casually takes my hand and shows me around. “We bought this place shortly after the owners passed away. Old age, no surviving relatives. Kind of a sad story, but we looked into their family history andfound out the patriarch was an accomplished furniture designer and carpenter.”

I look around, suddenly seeing the furniture in a completely different light. It doesn’t take a designer’s eye to observe the unique craftsmanship, the care behind every line and corner. The kitchen is fully custom with sparkling white marble tops and dark blue cupboards, a large glass door opening to a gorgeous patio leading into the back garden.

“You have a pool,” I mumble, staring at it through the window.

“It’s very nice during the summer,” Sebastian replies.

“I can imagine.”

Sebastian’s hand works its way down to the small of my back. The shift is discreet and barely noticeable, but I immediately feel it.

I also feel what it does to me.

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