Page 27 of Daddies’ Holiday Toy (Kissmass Daddies #1)

HOLLY

From there, everything becomes a haze of heat, laughter, and tangled limbs. Time stops mattering for the rest of the weekend.

Hours bleed into each other until I can’t tell if it’s afternoon or midnight, if the flush in my cheeks is from the fire in the hearth or from one of them whispering in my ear as they slide into me.

It’s indulgent. Filthy.

The kind of thing women lean over tables in dim bars to confess after too many glasses of wine, their voices low and conspiratorial while their eyes sparkle with reminiscences.

My weekend turns into the kind of fantasy you don’t expect to live through with your sanity intact.

Not with this much intensity and this much want coursing through my veins at every second.

Sometimes it’s me with Liam and Reece together.

Those are fast and rough, their banter spilling into the air between groans and curses.

They handle me like they’ve been doing it for years, like they know every place to touch to make my voice crack around their names.

They laugh, tease each other, tease me, and it’s impossible not to get swept up in the push and pull of them both.

Jack sits in the armchair during those times, one knee propped casually, forearms resting on the armrests as he watches.

He doesn’t say much, but his gaze is always steady, dark, and unreadable while he watches me enjoy myself with his friends.

Every now and then, our eyes meet and my body reacts before I can stop it.

It makes me want him just as badly.

Other times, it’s Jack and me, the whole cabin reduced to the rhythm of his breathing against mine, the weight of him pinning me as the rest of the world dissolves until all I know is the feel of his hands bracketing my hips, the solid weight of his hands pressing me down, his mouth at my ear murmuring things I could never repeat without blushing.

Those moments are quieter, but they burn in a way that leaves me shaking afterward.

Reece and Liam are always somewhere else in the cabin those times, or sprawled nearby in the aftermath, lazy and satisfied, watching us with half-lidded eyes that make my skin flush all over again.

It’s a lot.

Actually, it’s more than a lot.

My body aches in a way I’ve never felt before.

Every muscle is aware of itself, sore and satisfied, and hypersensitive from being touched so often and in so many different ways.

Meals become afterthoughts, stolen bites between kisses, coffee gone cold on the nightstand.

Sleep happens in short, sweaty stretches before someone’s hands are on me again, pulling me back under.

By Monday morning, I’m drunk on it, on them.

On the constant hum of attention, on the feeling of being wanted in a way that’s almost greedy.

Which is probably why the end of our time together hits harder than I’m ready for.

We pack up slowly.

There’s no rush to strip the beds or zip the bags filled with our dirty and leftover clothes.

Reece hums under his breath while folding his things into his bag, Liam takes his time making one last round of coffee, and Jack lingers by the door, watching the snow melt into slush outside.

The air feels heavier, like we’re all pretending we don’t hear the ticking clock.

Eventually, the guys load their bags into their trucks while I take one last look around the cabin.

The scuffed wood floors, the soot-filled fireplace, the way the couch cushions are still dented from where we’d been tangled up on them for hours.

I stand there for an extra beat, trying to etch the sight into my memory before it’s gone.

Out in the cold, our breaths puff into the air as we linger by the tailgates.

Both vehicles have been brushed clean, courtesy of Reece this morning.

The goodbyes stretch out, none of us quite willing to make the final move.

Numbers are exchanged, casual promises tossed around about “next time,” but the tone is different.

There’s an undercurrent there that makes all of this heavier somehow.

After climbing in the car, I follow them the entire way down the mountain.

We take the freshly plowed road slow.

It takes more than an hour to get down to the main road, and when we do my heart sinks.

Jack stops the truck long enough to give Reece the chance to stick his body half out of the window and wave at me.

I laugh despite my quickly plummeting mood, and then they’re gone.

Just like that.

The taillights of Jack’s truck fade, swallowed by the curve of the road.

By the time I pull into my street, the world around me feels almost too…still.

The rush of the weekend retreating like a tide I’m not at all prepared to deal with.

It has me sighing.

I’m not expecting anyone to be at my place, which is why I freeze when I see a familiar figure waiting for me inside the lobby.

“Mallory?”

My best friend looks up so fast I’m almost afraid her neck might snap.

She hops up from the rickety chair she’s squeezed herself in, her expression tight while her phone is clutched in her hand.

“Finally! I was about to call the cops if you didn’t come home by today.

Your mom told me you got stuck up at that cabin, but she didn’t say when you’d get back.”

I smile. “Aw, miss me that much?”

She huffs, shoving me lightly. “Not funny. You really freaked me out with that SOS text.”

Shit, I totally forgot about that.

“Sorry, Mal. I meant to call you. But, you know…the storm.” My hand waves next to me as the vague lie rolls off my tongue.

Hopefully she doesn’t pick it apart or press me on why I probably still look half-fucked.

Before I left the cabin, I managed to squeeze in a shower, but I doubt I look all that presentable.

Thankfully, she doesn’t call me out on it. Yet. “Well, I came around to tell you something.”

A pit opens in my stomach.

My bag slips slightly on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

She exhales hard. “Well, I came by to bang down your door to make sure you were still alive and ran into your landlord from the bakery.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, my shoulders inching up. “And?”

“He said he was looking to talk to you. Handed me this,” she pulls something out of her pocket, crumbled up with one of the corners folded.

As soon as I unfold it, my heart sinks.

The pleasantness from the weekend drains out so fast my knees nearly buckle.

A notice from Mr. Larkin.

Wanting to know when I’m going to be stopping by to give him the first portion of what I owe.

“Shit.”

Mallory’s face softens.

She takes a step closer, reaching out to put a hand on my arm.

“What’s going on? And don’t tell me ‘nothing,’ because it’s obviously something.”

“Yeah, I need to give my landlord my partial payment for the month. I spoke to him last week when I needed an extension but actually I can pay it all now.”

“Oh really? Business been that good, huh?” Her smile brightens up her face.

I open my mouth then shut it again.

There’s no way to explain what’s been happening without opening a door I’m not sure I can ever close.

I see flashes of the cabin in my head—Jack leaning over me, Liam’s laughter against my ear, Reece’s easy smile as his hands hold me in place .

Liam told me before we left he’d managed to get enough of a signal to wire a few thousand into my account.

Now I can actually give my landlord the back pay that I owe for the entire month and not have to wait for the holidays.

“Hol?”

I swallow hard, clearing my throat. “Uh. Yeah, kind of.”

Mallory doesn’t seem to buy it for a second.

Her frown says as much, anyway, but she doesn’t press me, which makes me feel a little bit better.

“So, should we go to the bank or what?”