Page 75 of Daddies' Holiday Toy
My body threatens to give out completely, but before I can collapse, a shadow moves from out of the corner of my eye.
Jack.
He’s up now, finally, closing the distance between us with slow, unhurried steps, his eyes locked only on mine.
It’s only when he’s close enough that I notice the hard outline straining against his jeans, thick and unmistakable.
My mouth goes dry and for the first time tonight, I’m not entirely sure if I’m in trouble…or if I’m about to get exactly what I want.
God, I hope it’s the latter.
Before I can breathe a question, he’s reaching down, his big hands wrapping around my waist.
Effortless strength lifts me off the couch, my body folding into his chest like I belong there.
“C’mere.” While his voice is soft, it’s still got that edge that makes me listen without thinking.
He carries me straight past the others and down the hall.
It’s not until we’re in the bathroom that he finally sets me down on the counter, his hands lingering at my hips for a beat before he turns away.
The light flicks on overhead, painting the small space in a warm glow.
He doesn’t look at me while he moves, just steps to the linen closet by the door, pulling out a fresh washcloth like he’s done this a hundred times.
He runs the tap until the water steams then dampens the cloth, wringing it out slowly.
The warm fabric meets my skin a moment later, and I suck in a sharp breath.
His touch is gentle, almost too gentle compared to the roughness of the last hour.
He’s methodical, sweeping the cloth over the inside of my thighs, between them, up around my mouth.
His eyes stay fixed on the task, not my face, but his jaw…is tight enough to crack his teeth.
Whatever he’s thinking, he’s not saying.
When he’s done, he tosses the cloth into the sink and finally looks at me.
“You let them touch you again like that and we’re gonna have a real problem.”
It should sound like a threat.
Hell, something like that should have me bristling.
But the way he says it, almost possessively, slides under my skin and settles there.
“Are you jealous?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze unreadable.
Long seconds pass before he says the truth, plain and unflinching.
“Yes.”
The single word lands between us like a live wire.
I don’t have time to answer before a voice cuts down the hallway, clear enough to shatter the moment.
