Page 25 of Daddies’ Holiday Toy (Kissmass Daddies #1)

“Jack told him not to come up. Made up some excuse so he’s staying back in town.”

My brows shoot up before I can stop them. “Wait, what? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Relief comes first because the idea of facing my dad after everything that’s happened here feels like the kind of stress that would grind me down to nothing.

But the relief tangles immediately with confusion.

Sure, I’m glad he isn’t coming.

Well, more than glad if we’re being honest that I won’t have to look my father in the eye with the memory of his best friends’ hands still fresh on my body.

But why keep that from me? Why wouldn’t Jack tell me? Especially after…

I stop the thought before it can finish, shoving it down to try to paste over it with something lighter.

Maybe it’s nothing.

Maybe he figured I didn’t need to know since it’s been handled and in his weird, roundabout way, he thinks he’s protecting me.

So I try, really try , to just let it go and enjoy the rest of the morning.

The hours slide by in an easy, almost surreal haze.

Liam and Reece are ridiculous in the best way, doting on me like I’m royalty.

They make it their personal mission to keep me planted on the couch, fussing over me until I have no choice but to surrender to it.

Liam brings me coffee just the way I like it, leaning one shoulder against the back of the couch while I sip to make sure it’s perfect.

Reece hovers with a throw blanket in hand, making sure I’m as comfortable as can be, tucking it around me every time I shift even a little and it slips off me.

They cook lunch and set it in front of me, taking turns telling stories that make me laugh so hard my cheeks ache.

All the while Jack is nowhere to be seen.

At first, I tell myself he’s just taking a nap.

But the longer it goes on, the harder it is to ignore because it’s been hours and he’s still not out of his room.

His absence is ever present, like a storm cloud hovering just out of sight.

What if he does regret what happened?

What if the look I saw in his eyes this morning wasn’t about wanting me and being jealous, but about wishing it hadn’t happened at all?

And if that’s the case what’s to stop him from deciding the cleanest way to clear his conscience is to tell my father everything?

Liam and Reece head into the kitchen as the late afternoon hits, clattering pots and pans as they start prepping dinner.

They’re laughing about something, Reece’s voice warm and amused, Liam’s a little dry but still playful.

It gives me my opening. If I’m going to get answers, this is my shot.

I push the blanket off and stand, smoothing my hands down over my thighs as I glance toward the kitchen one last time before heading down the hall.

My steps light, almost hesitant. When I stop outside Jack’s room, I hesitate for only a second before knocking.

No answer.

I knock again, louder this time, my knuckles hitting a little harder against the wood.

Still nothing.

Fine. If he’s planning on ignoring me, then I’m not giving him that choice.

My hand goes to the doorknob.

If he won’t open the door, I’ll take matters into my own hands.

I ease the door open, the faint creak of it making me wince, and slip inside before I can talk myself out of it.

The curtains are mostly drawn, slivers of late afternoon light cutting through and spilling thin, golden stripes across the floor.

He’s stretched out on his stomach, one arm bent under the pillow, the other hanging lazily off the edge of the bed. The sheets are twisted low around his hips, leaving the broad plane of his back exposed.

I can see the slow rise and fall of it, each breath deep and even.

For a moment, I just stand there taking him in.

There’s something disarming about seeing Jack like this, unguarded and quiet.

No sharp remarks, no folded arms or hard stare that makes me feel like I’m being judged.

Just him.

But the thing is, I don’t want to wait for this conversation.

Not for another hour while waiting for him to wake up, not another day when we’ll be heading home, never to see each other again.

If I leave now, I’m giving him the chance to dodge me again.

I close the door softly behind me, sealing us in together.

My bare feet carry me toward the bed, each step pulling me deeper into the warm, quiet bubble of his space.

He shifts in his sleep, rolling over onto his back and letting out a deep sigh.

Without overthinking, I slip under the covers.

The heat of his body envelopes me instantly.

I press myself against his side, feeling the solid line of his frame. My hand finds the flat plane of his stomach, hot under my touch.

I let my fingers trace along the faint ridges of muscle before drifting lower, testing how close I can get before he pulls away.

He stirs again, a low sound rumbling from deep in his chest, and it makes the fine hairs on my arms lift.

But he doesn’t open his eyes.

If anything, he shifts just slightly toward me, like his body knows I’m there before his mind catches up.

When my fingers curl around his cock, he stiffens instantly. The slow, even rhythm of his breathing hitches.

It’s like his body knows exactly what’s happening before his mind is fully awake.

In that hazy, half-asleep place, he moves without thought instinctively, letting out another low, rough groan that rumbles through his chest.

The next thing I know his weight shifts, his hands bracing at my sides as he rolls me onto my back.

The sheets slide down his body, slotting himself between my thighs, so I can feel every inch of him pressing close.

I gasp when he drags that thick length along my panties, the slow glide of him over my center making my breath stutter.

I reach down, slipping my fingers under the band of my panties, tugging them to the side just in time to catch him on his next slow thrust forward.

His arms cage me in, his chest brushing mine as he keeps me trapped beneath him, cocooned in his warmth and weight.

The first real push of his cock against my entrance steals my breath entirely.

It’s not quite inside, but god it’s so fucking close. Just the blunt head nudging at me has a moan breaking from my lips, my hips lifting into him without thought.

He moves slow, like his body’s still waking up but doesn’t want to lose the dream just yet.

Right now, I don’t want him to either.

All I want is for him to sink that thick length inside me.

The heaviness of him over me, the smell of his body, and his shallow breath is enough to make me forget my own name.

Finally, his eyes blink open, heavy-lidded and unfocused at first.

Then they sharpen as recognition floods in, his expression shifting from sleepy to startled.

“Holly…” His voice is hoarse.

He starts to pull back.

My nails quickly dig into the curve of his hips, holding him there before he can retreat.

My heart is pounding, but I can’t let him leave this moment, not when I’m so damn close to him slipping inside.

I want—no, need him.

“Don’t,” I breathe, my voice breaking on the word.

He hesitates, eyes locked on mine. I press my hips up into his, feeling him right there, almost where I want him most.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Please, Jack?”

For a long, suspended moment, he just stares at me.

His jaw works, chewing over a dozen things he clearly wants to say. His grip on my hips is tight enough to keep me still, but I can feel the tremor in his hands, fighting himself every second.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the fight starts to slip.

His head dips, his mouth brushing mine in the lightest, most testing kiss.

So soft it almost doesn’t feel real at all.

But the second I kiss him back, he breaks. The hesitation in him shatters completely.

His hands slide down, gripping the backs of my thighs and pushing them open more until I’m spread wide for him.

The blunt head of his cock nudges at me again, harder this time, past the point of pretending he’s going to stop.

“You sure you know what you’re asking for?” he murmurs against my mouth.

“Yes,” I breathe, my nails digging into his shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure.”

He pushes forward, the slow, inexorable stretch of him filling me inch by inch until I’m gasping into his neck.

My legs wrap around his hips, pulling him in deeper, refusing to let him go.

The cock is overwhelming, his size almost too much, but it’s also exactly what I’ve been craving.

Jack sets a steady, deep rhythm, his body rocking into mine with a controlled force that has my toes curling.

He doesn’t look away from me, not once, his gaze locked like he’s daring me to break first.

Every thrust is a statement, a brand burned into my skin that says: you wanted this, now take it.

“Jack…” My voice is already wrecked, but I can’t stop saying his name.

One of his hands comes up, cupping my jaw, holding my face still so I can’t look anywhere but him. “Eyes on me, Holly.”

I obey, even when pleasure starts to spiral hot and fast in my belly.

Even when my body tries to arch away from the intensity, he keeps me pinned, pushing me right to the edge.

The sound of our skin meeting, the faint creak of the bed beneath us, it’s all I can hear.

It’s all I want to hear.

I’m gone before I realize it, my orgasm ripping through me so hard I cry out, my nails clawing at his back.

Jack’s rhythm falters, his breath stuttering against my cheek as he buries himself deep one last time, spilling into me with a groan that’s pure raw relief.

For a long while, we just stay there, our bodies locked together. Eventually, Jack eases out of me, but he doesn’t let me move far.

He grabs a towel hanging nearby and starts cleaning me with the same slow, careful touch as the first time.

Only now, it’s his cum he’s cleaning up.

When he’s done, he tosses the towel aside and leans down, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” he says, voice firm but softer than I expect.

“You always this jealous?” I murmur, my lips brushing his jaw.

He huffs out something close to a laugh. “You think I’m gonna answer that?”