Page 23 of Daddies’ Holiday Toy (Kissmass Daddies #1)

JACK

The living room smells like sex.

There’s no polite way to put it, no matter how hard Liam and Reece try to mask it with the sharp citrus cleaner they’re swiping over the coffee table.

It’s in the air, clinging to the couch cushions, seeping into the carpet under it.

I can still hear it if I let myself keep thinking of Holly’s breathless little gasps, the low sound she made right before she came, the way her back arched when?—

I cut the thought off before it runs wild.

Doesn’t do me any favors.

I shouldn’t have been watching in the first place. Hell, I shouldn’t have even allowed them to cross that line with her.

But I didn’t move.

I sat there like a goddamn statue, torn between telling them to stop and…well.

Now they’re moving quickly, cleaning up like two teenage boys whose parents are about to walk in the door any second.

Liam’s tossing the throw blanket back over the couch like that’s gonna hide anything.

Reece is spraying down the coffee table for the third time and then turning to spritz the couch with it for good measure.

Neither of them can look me in the eye for long.

Only the sound of Holly rummaging around in the kitchen cuts through the awkward silence that’s settled over all of us.

I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, not saying a word.

This is their mess to clean up. I’m not lifting a damn finger.

My head’s buzzing with too many thoughts anyway.

About Carson, about Holly.

How the fuck are we going to keep this under wraps?

If Carson ever got a whiff of what happened in here, he’d kill all three of us without hesitation.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, a short, sharp pulse. I pull it out and glance at the screen.

Carson: Plows are moving. Should be up your way soon. I’ll be right behind them. We can salvage the rest of our weekend.

My stomach drops.

Shit. Time’s up.

Before I can even think about how to respond, Liam glances over and catches the look on my face. “What is it?”

“Carson,” I mutter. “He’s on his way up. Says the plows are almost here.”

That’s all it takes for both of them to stop moving.

Reece straightens up, cleaner bottle still in hand.

Liam’s already shaking his head. “We should tell him not to come.”

I narrow my eyes.

“And how are we going to do that, exactly? He’ll want to know why.”

“Say we’re sick,” Liam says quickly. “Or that the heat went out. Whatever. Just make something up. If he shows up here now, we’re fucked.”

“ You’re fucked,” I correct.

Reece shoots me a look. “It’s gonna get messy either way, Jack. You know it.”

I scoff. “Messy is one word for it. Catastrophic is another. You two just had to go think with your dicks.”

Neither of them spit back a rebuttal.

I let the silence hang for a second before I talk again.

“Besides the obvious. You two really think I’m gonna cover for you so you can spend the rest of the weekend screwing around with her?”

Liam shrugs.

“She wanted it. I don’t know why you keep acting like we forced her to say yes. You were right there when she said how much she wanted it.”

“You two have already done enough damage by being fucking idiots. If he finds out—” I cut myself off, shaking my head.

What’s the point?

Clearly I’m not getting through to them no matter how hard I try to hammer it into their heads.

“Fine. I’ll tell him not to come, but I’m not doing this for you. Holly shouldn’t be forced to interact with him when she clearly doesn’t want to.”

They don’t argue.

They know when to back off from pissing me off, even if that means they’ve ultimately gotten their way.

I unlock my phone and open Carson’s text again, trying to think of something fast.

The trick with him has always been to make him think it’s his idea.

If I tell him the roads are still too bad, he’s going to want to prove me wrong.

If I tell him we’re low on firewood and don’t want him stranded up here in the cold with us, he’ll make it a competition to hike into the woods and take a tree down.

The only alternative is to make him think coming up here is a waste of time and he’s better off rolling around in bed with Maggie, or whoever else is currently occupying his time.

Blowing out a breath, I type out a message.

Me: Might be a bad idea. Reece and Liam both got food poisoning last night from the roast we made. Told them they didn’t cook it long enough but you know them. They’ve spent the past twelve hours trading spots in the bathroom. Entire place smells like shit.

He texts back only a minute later.

Carson: What fucking idiots lol. Sucks for you. Open some windows so you don’t die of methane poisoning .

Me: Yeah, already on it. Seriously, don’t bother coming up. I’m stuck playing doctor. You show up and they’ll start clinging to you, asking you to rub their feet.

Carson: Fuck that. But yeah, sounds good. I’ll stay down here. Tell them I got a flat tire of something.

Me: Sure.

Right as I’m closing out of the messages, a thought strikes me: no questions about Holly? He wasn’t even curious if she made it back into town safely?

That lights a fire in my chest instantly, anger boiling whatever left over annoyance I’ve been holding onto for Liam and Reece.

While they’re both idiots, neither of them would’ve forgotten something that important.

If they were in Carson’s position, they’d be up my ass making sure Holly was being taken care of, let alone being concerned if she made it through that storm or not.

For someone claiming to care so much about her, Carson’s fucking shit at showing it.

That’s been Holly’s whole life.

I let out a slow breath, trying to push down my anger before it gets the better of me. “It’s handled.”

“Thanks.” Liam visibly relaxes. “We should grab some more wood from the pile outside before it gets late. We’ll have a nice, cozy afternoon by the fireplace before dinner.”

“I’m in.” Reece follows him out, leaving the living room empty after they step outside.

I should follow them out, keep my hands busy until the knot in my gut loosens.

But instead, my feet carry me toward the kitchen.

Holly’s got her hair pulled back, sleeves of the shirt she borrowed from me pushed up.

Her hands are deep in a mixing bowl, flour dusted on her cheek. She doesn’t look up right away, and for a second I just watch her.

She’s moving like she’s on autopilot—measuring, stirring, mixing ingredients together to whatever it is she’s making with that restless kind of energy that I know means she’s thinking too hard about something.

“You okay?” I ask, finally stepping in.

She glances up, forces a small smile. “Yeah. Just baking something for later. You want me to make you something specific?”

“You’ve already made two batches for us when you got here. No need to stress yourself out.”

“Funny you say that. This is exactly what I do when I’m stressed. Helps me clear my mind.”

I study her face. “You worried about something?”

Her eyes flick away. “Not really.”

It’s a lie, and we both know it.

She’s wound tight, probably thinking the same thing I am about Carson.

God, it really pissed me off how little he cares about his own kid.

I get that the responsibility of being a parent can be overwhelming but Holly’s a great kid.

She’s easy to love.

How can anyone not want her?

I step closer, leaning against the counter beside her.

“You don’t have to hold it in, you know. I’m here if you want to talk.”

She shrugs, stuffing her hands deeper into the dough in the bowl in front of her.

“It’s fine. I don’t want to think about it right now.”

Her voice does something to me I don’t like.

It makes me want to take that weight off her shoulders, even if it’s just for a little while.

I’m not supposed to be doing any of this. She’s off limits in every capacity.

That familiar stirring in my belly takes root.

“Then don’t,” I say, my tone lower than I mean it to be.

She glances at me again.

There’s a flicker of something there, curiosity, I think, or maybe I’m just imagining it because I’m still running on the high of watching her earlier.

My hand’s already moving, brushing over her flour-stained cheek to wipe it away.

It’s just a touch.

A small little innocuous thing.

“You really…shouldn’t…” I start, though I’m not sure if I’m talking to her or to myself.

“Shouldn’t what?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Do this. With you.”

The confession hangs between us for a second.

She’s watching me like she’s waiting for me to make the next move, and I can feel my control slipping.

It would be so easy for me to take her and bend her over this counter.

The worst part is I know she’d let me.

If that dark lust in her eyes when she’d asked if I was jealous and I’d told her yes is anything to go off of.

I let my hand slide up her wrist, my thumb tracing the inside where her pulse jumps.

She takes a slow breath. “Jack.”

My impulses have me leaning closer. Just one taste…just one. “You want to stop me?”

Her head shakes the faintest bit.

That’s all it takes.

My body fits into the space between her and the counter.

My head dips, my mouth brushing the side of her neck to taste the small spot of flour I see coloring her skin there to.

She gasps when my tongue darts out to lick the spot clean.

She tips her head slightly, giving me more room to continue.

When I pull her hands out of the bowl, I turn her until her back is pressed up against the counter.

The first kiss is light, a quick test.

The second is slower, my mouth opening against hers until I feel the faint tremor run through her frame.

Her hands lift, hesitating for half a second before they slide up my chest.

She doesn’t push me away like I’m prepared for her to.

She instead grabs onto my shirt and holds on.

That’s it for the rest of my restraint.

She’s pinned between me and the counter, my mouth tilting to deepen our kiss before I can talk myself out of any of this.

She tastes faintly like sugar and coffee.

Her lips are soft, unyielding in what they demand for me as she silently asks for more, meeting me in the middle instead of just letting me take.

When my hand slips under the hem of her shirt, she makes a small, surprised sound in the back of her throat.

I pull back just enough to look at her. “This okay?”

Her lashes flutter open, a rosy hint to her cheeks. She nods. “Yeah. Of course.”

Good.

My hand moves higher, over the curve of her stomach, until my thumb brushes just under her bra.

I feel her breath catch when my palm finally cups her breast, my thumb sweeping over the thin fabric and feeling her nipple perk.

“Jack…” she groans my name and it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

My other hand slides to the small of her back, pulling her forward so I can grind our hips together properly.

She’s warm and pliant in my grip, her body reacting to mine perfectly.

I kiss her again, harder this time, and she answers with that small sound that goes straight to my cock.

My hand at her back drifts lower, over the curve of her ass, squeezing once before I lift her just enough to set her on the edge of the counter.

Her knees fall open instinctively, allowing me to step between them.

We’re past the point of pretending this is innocent now.

There’s no turning back.

We’ve crossed a line that can never be undone.

I break from her mouth just long enough to trail more kisses down her throat, over the line of her collarbone.

I push the fabric cup up and over her breast, pulling my mouth away from her neck and then tugging at her shirt to slip it off of her.

Her hands leave me for only a few seconds, hooking around behind her to undo the clasps of her bra and letting it slide off.

My mouth finds her nipple next before she can even catch up.

“Ohhhh,” she groans.

Her hand flies to the back of my head, fingers curling in my hair, holding me there.

I take my time, dragging my tongue slowly around it before sucking hard enough to make her gasp. It perks harder between my teeth.

When I pull back, a faint flush colors her entire body.

I’m not thinking anymore.

Not about Carson or about watching her get fucked by my two best friends and how insanely jealous that made me.

All my focus is on the way she’s looking at me right now.

“Hold still.” I pause when my hands find the waistband of her pants, waiting, but she lifts her hips in answer.

I tug them down quickly, watching her skin appear inch by inch.

When she’s bare, she leans back on her hands, legs spreading further to show me how wet she is.

Her sex shines with slick, making my nostrils flare.

I drop to my knees without thought.

Her breath hitches when I hook her thighs over my shoulders, my hands gripping the backs of them to keep her open.

The first taste is slow and languid, practically indulgent as my tongue drags up the length of her in a way that makes her hips jerk.

She tries to bite back the sound, but it spills out of her anyway.

It makes me do it again, harder this time.

I flatten my tongue, lapping up what leaks out of her.

Her hands are in my hair now, gripping it tight.

I take my time, mapping every reaction, every twitch of her thighs while my tongue moves.

Every shift in her breathing has my cock twitching in my jeans, and soon I’ve got her moving against me without her even realizing it.

“Jack, Jack,” she repeats, her eyes squeezes shut. “I’m…I’m gonna?—”

When she comes, it’s hard.

Her breath catches on my name again before she shudders against my mouth, nearly squeezing my head with her thighs.

I hold her there through it, tasting every second until she finally eases back with a shaky exhale.

“Oh, my god.”

I stand, licking my lips and kiss her once more, letting her taste herself.

She groans again.

Now that I’ve had her, I don’t think I can stop. I’m in the same cursed boat as Liam and Reece with no way out.

Funny how less than an hour ago, this would have eaten me alive.

But now, tangled up in Holly’s arms like this, I couldn’t give less of a shit about the consequences.

Fuck Carson.

And fuck trying to pretend that I didn’t want his daughter.