Page 217 of Santa Daddies
“He’s got pie at home,” Anson told her.
Joey started to laugh for some reason. “Yep, I’ve got pie at home. Nice to meet you, Alice. Hope to see you more often.”
“Umm.” He was gone before she could explain that she was only here on holiday. Miles followed him out, nodding at her.
“The pie was good,” Anson told her suddenly.
“Oh, good. I’m glad.” She still wasn’t sure what the heck was going on.
But as he left the room, she decided maybe it was best that she didn’t know.
Chapter Seven
Pain shot down his leg and Anson grunted as he headed into the kitchen to grab some painkillers.
He’d done too much today. He swallowed some pills. He should have taken the pills earlier, but he’d always been a stubborn bastard.
He sat in an armchair by the fire with his legs straight out in front of him. Maybe the heat would help.
Anson wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when she appeared. She stood in front of him, dressed in a pair of pink-and-white-striped pajamas.
Adorable.
She rubbed her eyes like a little kid might do and then peered down at him. “Anson?”
“Hi, baby. Are you all right? Did something wake you up?”
“I don’t know. What are you doing? What time is it?” She yawned and rubbed her hand over her face. Then she blinked down at him.
“About three. I couldn’t sleep. My leg is hurting.”
Shit. He never admitted when he was in pain. But there was something about her that made him feel . . . at ease. And at the same time, incredibly turned on.
As she reached up to pull her hair off her neck, her pajama top rode up, offering him a glimpse of her pale stomach.
Fuck.
He could feel his cock hardening and he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants.
“Oh no. Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked. “Would a heating pad help?”
“Maybe. That’s why I’m sitting in front of the fire.”
“I’ll get it for you. Where is it?”
“Think it’s in my bedroom closet.”
She darted away before he could say anything more. Shit. He probably shouldn’t have sent her into his room. After a few minutes, he decided he better follow her.
When he walked into the bedroom, he found her on her knees, searching through the closet. Her ass was wiggling and he swallowed heavily.
Fuck.
His cock pressed against his sweatpants and, of course, she decided to turn and look at him right then.
“I can’t find it . . . oh,” she said, her mouth dropping open.
“Sorry,” he said huskily. “Ignore my cock. Your ass is just . . . perfection.”
