Page 20 of Santa's Baby

“I need you.” She cries out again. Ah. Oh. God. “Daddy. . .”

“No limits,” I repeat. “We’ll do it all.”

“Love. . .” She freezes with me deep inside her, then I feel her go, a ripple that pulls my release out of me in long, milking squeezes.

And she gasps again.

Yeah, she can feel it. Heavy spurts.

Dangerously good, that feeling. Fuck.

“Ford?” She’s panting as she slides off me.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I think I am a little hungry now.”

ChapterNine

Neely

We stayup until two in the morning. Ford finally gets a chance to feed me, and we pepper each other with curious questions as Christmas Eve slides into Christmas Day.

“What happens if you go on vacation?” I ask him as he makes me a grilled cheese sandwich in the kitchen that is probably twice as old as I am.

“The weather service would find a temporary replacement.”

“Would? Have you ever taken a holiday?”

He shrugs. “No point.”

“We’re going to change that.”

“Are we?”

I give him a wicked smile. “Think of the teeny tiny bikini I might wear on the Mexican Riviera.”

“On a private beach? Because I don’t want anyone else to see that,” he growls.

“But what if I want people to see the wolfish way Daddy looks at me?”

He grunts. “If you want it. . .”

But I’ll save the most scandalous bathing suits for a private swim.

“Do you like your job?” he asks me after I feed him the last bite of my sandwich.

“I do. It’s. . . the residents are a lot of fun. And I was happy I didn’t have to leave town to find work. I thought about it, though.”

He frowns. “Where would you have gone?”

It's my turn to shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t get far in that thinking. It was more about if the grass might be greener.” I chew on the corner of my lip. “Or if it might be easier to not work literally next door to where you were locked up, all brooding and hot and off-limits.”

He gives me a crooked smile. “If you keep working there, it’s a pretty short commute from here—although I’ll need to walk you there and come get you in bad weather.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, whatever, on that point.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how youpassed out.”