Daddy's Big Package

by Emma Roberts

Soon, I felt myself getting close. I wanted to keep going; I wanted to tease this moment out for as long as I could, but I knew I had to give in. Besides, she shot a look over her shoulder and smiled at me, apparently sensing my urgency. She spoke, softly but plainly.

  "I want you to come inside of me," she murmured, and that was all I needed to tip over the edge into orgasm.

  When it hit me, it was explosive: beyond anything I’d ever felt before in my entire life. I had fucked many women, but none of them, not one, had ever made me feel the way she did. It wasn’t just the pleasure of coming in her gorgeous pussy, though that was incredible – it was knowing that I had her, that she was finally mine after all of this time. The one that had gotten away was in my bed, coming around my cock, and that was all I needed to get me there.

  I held myself deep inside her as my cock exploded with release, my fingers sinking so deep into her hips that I was sure they would leave some kind of mark. But I didn’t care. Maybe I even wanted her to remember me that way. Maybe I wanted the memory of this night imprinted on her for good, just the way she had imprinted on me the first night we’d met.

  When we eventually pulled apart, she pitched head-first onto the bed before her and lay there for a moment, catching her breath. She looked as though she could just fall asleep on the spot, so I reached over and stroked her hair gently.

  "You okay?" I asked her. She nodded, not quite able to speak yet, and I figured now was a good chance to get myself cleaned up.

  So I did just that, sliding into the bathroom and tidying myself up, disposing of the condom and washing my face and hands. I looked at myself in the mirror – I thought I would feel different afterward. Triumphant, even. But I wasn’t sure what I felt, and I wasn’t sure I liked that.

  When I emerged, she was still splayed out on the bed in front of me, and I made my way over to her and wrapped some covers around her carefully. She smiled up at me, finally making it back to the real world again.

  "Morgan, that was incredible," she murmured to me, reaching out so I would come sit next to her. Honestly, this was pretty new territory for me: I was much more likely to find some way to kick a woman out of my bed than lie in it with her after we’d finished fucking, but I wanted her to stay there. And that was a new one on me.

  "Yeah, it really was," I agreed. I knew that wasn’t a big deal to admit, but I was usually the guy who bragged at how that was pretty standard for the encounters I normally had. Some part of me wanted her to know just how damn good she had been for me, just how much I had loved being with her, but there was another part of me that had no clue how to navigate that conversation.

  "I’m starving," I remarked, and I was – it hadn’t been that long since we’d had dinner, but all of that athletic fucking had worked up an appetite once more.

  "You have food in the house?” she asked. "A cook, maybe?”

  "I’m not that bougie," I shot back playfully. "No, but we could order in."

  "It’s not bougie to have food in the house," she laughed, and I shrugged.

  "Hey, I’m not used to cooking for myself," I reminded her. "I’m normally too busy."

  "Alright, so where do you order from?” she asked. I went to grab a couple of menus from the kitchen. I returned, and the two of us picked out a Chinese place that we thought looked good, and I called and placed an order.

  It arrived not long afterward, and I carried the food to the bed, where she was waiting for me.

  We split the food up between us and ate ravenously – while the food at the lodge was amazing, it was also served in comically tiny portions that left me wanting more, especially after spending the whole evening fucking like we had just done. We chatted about nothing in particular and got crumbs on the bed and laughed about everything that had happened that day. When we were finished, I cleared away the boxes. While I deposited them in the kitchen, she must have passed out because when I came back, she was flat-out on the bed and fast asleep.

  I made my way toward her and pulled the covers over her body – even though I could have treated myself to look at her gorgeous, naked form a little while longer. She wriggled against the sheets and let out a little snuffling noise, causing my heart to warm. She was so cute.

  I sat there on the edge of the bed for a while, just watching her sleep, and I wondered how it could be that I was so unbothered by her presence here in my bed. Normally, I would have been trying to figure out the best way to get her back home in a taxi without coming across as too unrepentant an asshole, but with Kari...I wanted to lock the doors and pretend the world outside didn’t exist so that we could spend a little longer in here, just the two of us.

  I went into the bedside table and pulled out the small box where I kept my cigars – yes, they weren’t good for me, but if I didn’t indulge myself at all, I would go crazy. I pulled out a hand-rolled one, grabbed my lighter, and headed out onto the porch once more. I had gotten dressed to greet the man with our food, thank goodness, so I didn’t have to bother with the arduous task of pulling more clothes on.

  The air was bitingly cold outside, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I liked it. It felt as though it was scrubbing my head clean. I didn’t know what the hell was going on with me – what the hell had to be running through my head for me to want to do this with her. Not just the sex; I understood where that was coming from. But all of it. Everything that came with being near her felt exciting in a way that nothing else had in a long time, and I was already craving more of her.

  I puffed on the cigar, watching the smoke as it mingled with the icy air around me. The thought crossed my mind – coming from nowhere – that I could do this every night: I could fuck her senseless, eat junk food, and come out here to smoke my cigar and look at the gorgeous scenery around us. And that thought scared the living shit out of me because it wasn’t the way that I functioned, not by a long shot. I was the guy who kicked you out after one night, not the one who asked you to move in before you left the next morning.

  But with Kari, it felt different, strikingly different. There was something about her that felt more grounded than every other woman I’d ever been with. Maybe it was the fact that she had kids, or maybe it was how passionate she was about her charity, or maybe it was something more than that – but she felt solid, like she was connected to the earth, not floating away in space. So many of the women I was with seemed like they were just drifting randomly, hoping for something to come along and make things worthwhile, but she already had a full life without me. That was what made her so attractive – knowing that she could go on without me, that she wasn’t dependent on me for anything.

  I leaned on the railing next to the hot tub and looked down to the woods in front of me. They were dark, pitch-black, and I found the quiet soothing. My head began to clear, and I found myself able to focus on what was right there in front of me for a change.

  I had been sure that this was all about getting her into bed. It would have been easy if that was the case. I could have just rolled out this whole day, romancing her and pulling every string that I needed to in order to get things going, and then I could have given her a roll in the hay that I knew she would never forget and move on. But now that I’d had that from her, now that I’d shared with her the one thing I’d thought I wanted, I was craving more.

  And part of that was the sex – of course it was, I wasn't crazy. That had been some of the best sex of my life, and I knew that she felt the same way. I had seen the satisfaction painted across her face when we were done. The way she had told me how much she had enjoyed it; I knew she wasn’t just paying me lip service. The two of us had some powerful sexual chemistry, and I would have been lying to myself and anyone else paying attention if I had said that wanting to roll in bed with her again wasn’t a major factor in pursuing things.

  But knowing she was lying there in the bed, asleep and ready for me to join her – that was what really excited me. The thought of falling asleep next to her, of getting to hold her in my arms as she dozed, of wakin
g up beside her the next day and getting to look at her sleep-bleary eyes and kiss her good morning. That was what I really wanted. That was what I was truly looking forward to.

  And that scared me, more than a little. There wasn’t much I was actually afraid of – I did all of my own stunts, so not much unsettled me these days – but her and the power she had over me? Yeah, that was a different story.

  So what did I do about it? I’d never been one for just sitting back and letting the universe declare what I should do. I was in control of my own destiny, and right now, I was pretty sure that my destiny was slumbering a couple of rooms over from me, not aware of anything that was running through my head right now.

  But I knew this couldn’t be the end of it. I had assumed that when we finished fucking, I would feel some sense of release, some freedom from the intensity of the desire that had driven me to do this in the first place, but if anything, our intimacy had only made things more intense.

  And I wasn’t going to let it end here. Actually, I was going to make it so that it started here. Yeah, that was what I needed to do – this was going to be the beginning of things for us. I was going to slide back in there, climb into bed, and when we woke up the next morning, I would tell her that I wanted to date her. Date her. Now there was a phrase that I hadn’t given a lot of thought to in the last few...decades. But then, I hadn’t found anyone before who vibed with me the way she did, who made me feel safe and settled the way she did. Who made me believe there was actually something positive to being safe and settled in the first place.

  I finished the cigar, stubbed the butt, and tossed it in the trashcan. I didn’t know what I was doing out here when I could be curled up in bed with her. I went back inside, warming my hands by rubbing them together, not wanting to surprise her with my cold-ass touch. I paused for a moment over the bed before I got undressed, just looking at her face framed by that messy hair as she lay exhausted, tangled up in the sheets. And I knew that I couldn’t wait another second to be next to her. I pulled off my clothes, slipped beneath the covers, and wrapped my arms around the woman I knew I was going to make my girlfriend.

  12

  Kari

  As soon as I stirred the next morning, I felt a powerful wash of shame course through me. I couldn't believe what I had done. I couldn’t believe that I had been foolish enough to fall for this guy, to allow him into my ski-pants just like that. When I turned over in bed, I found that he was missing, and I couldn’t say I was surprised. I mean, he was a famous movie star, and he had gotten what he wanted. Now he had probably fled the building and sent his driver to take me back to the airport, right?

  I reached out and skimmed my fingers over the empty space in the bed. Well, it had been fun while it had lasted, hadn’t it? At least I’d gotten a really good fuck out of the equation, and a story I could share with my friends when I’d had a little too much to drink.

  Not that I could imagine telling anyone about this right now. It was way too humiliating. I was supposed to be here for work, yet I hadn’t been able to keep it in my damn pants. What kind of boss was I? This was a man I was supposed to be signing up for charity work, yet I had tumbled into bed with him the first opportunity I got. And yes, he was hot, and yes, it had been amazing, but that didn’t make what I had done any better. I was a grown-ass adult, and I needed to learn how to keep myself under control, especially when it came to smoking-hot actors who probably had half of Hollywood in their little black book.

  I sighed and went to climb out of bed and get dressed, planning on slinking off the first chance I had to get away. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it home, but surely he had planned for that, something smooth and simple to whisk me out of the county and make sure that I didn’t cause any more trouble for him. He struck me as the kind of man who had done this sort of thing plenty of times over the years, and just because I wasn’t some actor or model didn’t mean that I was going to get any kind of different—

  And that’s when I heard the door open. I froze on the spot then dived back into bed, still half-naked, not wanting to be caught by one of his staff. I pulled the covers up and over me and lay back, hoping I could pass for some kind of sleeping beauty now that the stretchmarks and loose skin were covered.

  Footsteps approached the door and finally made their way inside, and I glanced up. To my shock, I saw Morgan standing there. My jaw dropped.

  "I thought you’d left," I blurted out. I knew it sounded desperate and a little pathetic, but I was so happy to see him standing there that I didn’t care a bit.

  "No, I just went down to the gym to get in a workout while you were still asleep," he explained, making his way toward me and placing a paper bag on the bedside table. I pushed myself up in bed, still pinning the covers tightly around me to make sure I didn’t expose any part of myself to him. I might have been glad that he was back, but I was still stone-cold sober and distinctly aware of the fact that he might figure out I was far from a knockout by the light of day.

  "Oh, well," I muttered to myself, having the decency to at least go a little red for my transgression. "I’m glad you’re back now."

  "I’m not going anywhere," he assured me, and there was a fervency to his voice that caught me off-guard. As though he wanted me to know, above all else, that he meant this. I turned to the bag next to me, the one that he had brought in, assuming I had just imagined his tone and pushing it to the back of my mind.

  "What’s this?" I asked as I dipped my hand into the paper bag.

  "Just some breakfast for you," he replied, slipping down into bed with me. "An omelet, a biscuit, and some juice. I figured you could use something."

  "Yeah, you’re right," I agreed, opening the packet and tearing off a chunk of the biscuit. I popped it in my mouth and groaned at how good it tasted.

  "Where did you get this?" I asked, covering my mouth so I didn’t spray him with crumbs. "Because I think I need to start getting them to ship straight to my house."

  "There’s a little café not far from the gym," he explained. "I wanted to bring you something."

  "You’re really sweet," I told him, and he grinned at me, his entire face lighting up. It was kind of new territory for me, being with a guy who was acting this sweet after the two of us had already hooked up. Most of the time, I found that things shifted once they had gotten into my pants. Not that they were cruel, exactly, but they seemed less focused on the minute details. Less focused on making everything perfect for me. Which I understood, but I had still found it a little hurtful. With Morgan, though? That didn’t seem to be the case. And if I had expected it from anyone, it would have been someone with his reputation.

  "So, what are we going to do today?” I asked him once I had finished my breakfast. It had been delicious, almost as good as the Chinese food we’d had the night before. Normally, I would have been nervous about eating so much, worried that the weight was just going to come crashing back down on me again, but I found myself more laid-back with him around. He had fucked me senseless last night, apparently not caring one little bit about the way I looked. Why should I get hung up on my weight when he didn’t seem to give a damn?

  "I thought we could go out and see how you like the snow," he suggested. "Without skiing, I mean. I think we’ve already proved once and for all that you shouldn’t be out on the slopes."

  "Hey, in my defense, that guy totally crashed into me," I protested. He chuckled.

  "Yeah, he did," he agreed. "But I have to get you back to your family in one piece, don’t I? Not going to risk another mowing-down by an out-of-control beginner."

  "Fair point," I conceded. "So, what are we getting up to instead?”

  "There’s a good layer of snow on the ground now," he glanced outside, cracking a notch in the blinds. The light that poured through was cold and blinding, and I squinted against a ray of sunshine that seemed to launch itself into my retinas.

  "We should go outside, take it in," he suggested. "Build a snowman, throw some snowballs..."


  "Alright, I’ve never done any of that stuff before, so you’re going to have an edge over me," I warned him.

  "I promise I’ll go gentle," he replied, cocking an eyebrow, and I found myself flushing bright red. I pulled my eyes away from him, reminding myself that this was meant to be professional. Not flirtatious, not morning-after, just professional. And I would have to ignore the fact that this man had brought me breakfast in bed after a night of hardcore, incredible fucking.

  "Here, let me get you your clothes," he continued, and I sat there in bed awkwardly, not really sure how I was supposed to stick to my guns with his...well, his guns right there on show for me. He was so damn sexy, freshly showered from the gym. And as far as he was concerned, we were just picking up right where we’d left off last night. Just a couple who’d taken things to the next level the evening before, now having fun, flirting, and enjoying those early stages of whatever the hell this happened to be.

  He handed me my clothes, and I honestly considered sliding them beneath the bed and getting dressed beneath the covers, but I supposed that would be too obvious a giveaway as to my nervousness about being naked around him. I took a deep breath and pulled myself out of bed before getting to my feet, swiftly turning my back on him, and pulling on my bra.

  "You need a hand with that?" he asked gently as I groped around uselessly at the hooks behind me. Why was I suddenly so bad at this? I should have been able to do this easily; I had never struggled before in my adult life. Maybe some subconscious part of me was craving his touch and doing everything I could to get him to put his hands on me again.

  He brushed my fingers away and did it up for me, and I let him, savoring the way his hand trailed briefly across my skin. Did he know the kind of effect he was having on me? He must be able to see the shiver of desire that danced across my skin when he touched me.

  I pulled away from him as soon as the bra was done up and went to grab the rest of my clothes, pulling them on quickly – I thought I was good and dressed when he moved in behind me to tuck the tag back into my shirt.