by Eugene, Lisa
I pulled her against me, hating the barrier of clothes between us. Quickly releasing the buttons on her coat, I peeled it from her shoulders and tossed it on the couch, then drew her back into my arms. I saw her eyes flare and knew immediately she’d felt my arousal. Like a siren she arched into me, pushing a groan from my throat. I cupped her buttocks and molded her hips to mine, letting her feel what she was doing to my body. My lips found hers and I suckled her sweetness. I found pleasure in her arms and tasted happiness in her kisses. I hadn’t been kidding when I told her I wanted her, that I wanted Livy to get to know her.
My finger traced over the discoloration marring her jaw and I gritted my teeth, trading my happiness for anger and fear.
“I want you to stay away from Josh. If he comes near you, call the police, then call me.”
She nodded quietly then rooted her face into my neck.
Was she sniffing me?
On tiptoe, she brushed her lips against mine, then dragged her tongue down my neck. Boldly, she reached down and palmed my eager cock through my jeans, then roved lower and massaged my balls. I groaned, fighting the hunger that braided ribbons of lust through me. I needed her to listen. I couldn’t stand the idea of something happening to her. Pulling back, I cupped her shoulders and locked our gazes. Her eyes were big and dilated with desire, the blue almost obliterated by black. So fucking beautiful…
“Kay, I’m serious. I don’t want him near you.”
“Don’t worry. After what he did, I know he’s dangerous.”
“Good. I want you to let me know if he tries anything. Let me know if he tries to see you.”
She nodded and pushed into me, snaking her arms around my waist.
“Promise me, Kay.”
She smiled reassuringly. “I promise.”
I captured her lips again, greedily swiping my tongue deep into her mouth. With a low groan she gyrated her hips against my aching cock, pushing her mound into me and lighting me up in flames. I was so damn hard.
I took her hand and started tugging her toward my bedroom when my front door pushed open and Livy burst through with a squeal of excitement, Mrs. Rogers in her wake.
Shit! I’d forgotten all about them.
“Dada! Lorri said that Santa doesn’t like chocolate cookies!” Livy ran toward me and caged my legs in her arms, her curls bouncing around her head. “We have to make more! The ones we made are chocolate, and now he won’t come!” Her gaze shifted to Katie as I hoisted her into my arms. “Hi, Katie!”
“Hello, Olivia.” Katie’s smile was wide.
“Can we, Dada? Can we? Can we make different ones?”
I laughed. “Livy, does Santa look like he’s ever refused a cookie?” I watched Katie’s face split into a grin, but Livy started to pout.
“What if he really doesn’t like chocolate? Lorri also said he’s allergic to milk and lacto in—in—torment.”
I caught Mrs. Roger’s gaze over Livy’s head, and the woman shrugged.
“Lactose intolerant. Lorri has quite an imagination,” Mrs. Roger’s supplied.
I frowned. No more play-dates with Lorri. Every time Livy came home from one of their play-dates, I was in torment!
I made quick introductions between Katie and Mrs. Rogers, then turned back to my daughter.
“Okay, we can make another batch, but don’t believe everything Lorri tells you, okay?”
“Katie, will you help? Mrs. Rogers has to leave now, and Dada’s not too good at making cookies.”
I threw my head back and laughed loudly as Livy wiggled down from my arms.
“That’s because he eats all of them,” Mrs. Rogers chimed in, smiling.
“Thank you both for throwing me under the bus.” I tried to looked wounded, but shot a wink at Katie.
Livy tugged off her coat and ran toward the kitchen, Mrs. Rogers following. “We’ll take everything out!”
Left alone, I laced my fingers through Katie’s and pulled her against me, feeling her warmth. God, I wished we were alone. “Will you stay and help us bake?”
She smiled up at me and I loved what I saw in her eyes. “Absolutely. I love making cookies. Just call me Betty Crocker.”
I grinned. “I like your other name better.”
She looked confused.
“The one from Sensations. What was it?” I smiled, baiting her.
Her cheeks pinked, but I could see mirth drifting into her blue eyes. “Ivanna…” she groaned.
I leaned forward and sealed my lips against hers, whispering, “Ivanna what?”
“Gettof,” she said reluctantly, but smiled fully against my lips, causing me to smile back.
“It would be my pleasure.”
She rolled her eyes and issued a dry chuckle. “Funny.”
“Katie! Dada! Cooome!” Livy bellowed from the kitchen.
“I’ll be right there!” I gave Katie’s lips a quick peck and watched her make her way to the kitchen as I turned to shut down my computer and save my work.
I paused for a moment, looking at the screen and the campaign tagline I’d been working on.
If you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted. One moment. Would you capture it or just let it slip?
I stared blindly at the spot where Katie had been standing, my thoughts preoccupied. A wave of laughter flowed from the kitchen, reminding me I was needed. I turned off my computer and headed into the other room, feeling unusually hopeful.
*************************
Katie
The timer went off and I rushed to the oven, snatching the mitt from the counter.
“Stand back, Olivia,” I cautioned, opening the oven door. A wave of heat hit me, followed by the delicious smell of homemade cookies. It was our fourth batch, and like the others, were invitingly golden brown. I was thrilled. For some reason, it was very important to me that my cookies be perfect.
“Wow! Awesome!” Livy shouted exuberantly, bouncing on her toes.
I deposited the tray on top of the stove to cool alongside the other batches and turned to Livy, giving her a big high five.
Livy squealed, light dazzling her wide brown eyes, and I couldn’t help catching her infectious excitement.
“These are perfect,” I stated proudly.
“You’re the best baker ever!” Livy proclaimed. “Wait till Dada sees these!”
I laughed as Livy scrambled off to find her father. He’d been banished from the kitchen a half hour ago for eating all the cookie dough. I hadn’t minded because his presence in the small space had been very distracting. He’d find every reason to brush against me, or discretely lick cookie dough off my fingers, making me mad with longing. Every now and then he’d even whisper in my ear, ‘what’s your name again?’, heating my face with a blush as he grinned like a rascal.
Livy ran into the other room where Luke sat on the couch, and I followed. He’d been on the phone earlier, and from the small snatches of conversation I could hear from the kitchen, I guessed he’d been talking to his lawyer.
“Dada!” Livy scolded, stopping in her tracks. “You’re eating all the cookies!”
I bit my lip to hide my smile as Luke looked up from his plate of cookies, obviously surprised.
“What?” he asked innocently, wiping crumbs from his chin. “These are the chocolate ones! The ones Santa doesn’t like, remember?”
I almost burst out laughing when Livy planted a hand on her hip and said, “Well, what about his reindeer? What will they eat?”
In her frothy tutu, she looked like a ballerina munchkin with attitude.
He stared blankly. His gaze shifted to me for help and then back to Livy when it was obvious he would get none. I was too busy trying not to laugh out loud.
“The reindeer are…are chocolate in—in torment. Everybody knows that,” he said dead pan, rising from the couch. “Yeah, chocolate cookies will do a number on their little tummies. They’re used to eating hay and…” he looked to me again for help and I shrugge
d, biting my lip. “and…garden…salads.” I noticed the dimple playing hide and seek near his mouth as he grew closer. His handsome face was serious, but amusement danced in his eyes. “They’ll be leaving reindeer droppings all over the apartment if they eat these.” He shook his head gravely. “We can’t have that.”
I had to turn away as laughter bubbled up from my chest. I didn’t know how Luke could keep a straight face.
“Droppings?” Livy asked.
“Poop.”
Livy instantly ignited into hysterical, high-pitched laughter. I would never have thought that one word could be so inflammatory. But maybe when you’re five years old, such things were uproarious.
“Really?” Livy giggled. “Lorri never said that.”
“There’re a lot of things Daddy knows that Lorri doesn’t—like, it’s time for bed, princess.” I heard him sigh, but mirth underlined his tone. “Say goodnight to Kay.”
“Goodnight, Kay.” Livy waved as Luke picked her up and heaved her over a broad shoulder.
Luke shot me a wide grin and a wink, then headed off down the hall.
I turned and went to the kitchen to pack away the cookies, still laughing at father and daughter. No sooner had I reached the entrance, when Livy came bounding back down the hall. She stood a few feet away from me, seeming suddenly shy. The small dimple next to her mouth tunneled deeper as she twisted her lips.
“Thank you for helping me bake.” Livy smiled then crooked a finger at me, indicating I should come closer. I obeyed, bending lower and having no idea what the little girl could want. She cupped a hand to my ear and whispered, “You can call me Livy if you want.”
I swallowed at the knot of emotion balling tight in my throat, but I nodded and smiled as Livy turned and scurried back down the hall. “Don’t let Dada near the cookies!” she yelled before she disappeared.
I walked into the kitchen, reflecting on my evening. I couldn’t believe it was two days before Christmas and I was here at Luke’s apartment baking cookies and having more fun than I’d had in a long time. I loved the easy rapport that flowed between father and daughter, and the love and warmth that filled their home. There was no stress, no artifice, no underlying pressures—just undiluted joy and honest emotion. So different from the way I’d grown up. I’d never had this, I’d never known what it was like to see such love in a father’s eyes. I knew my parents loved me, but they were not the most emotive of people. My brother and I each had a nanny from the time we were chauffeured home from the hospital. And growing up, everything was scheduled and doled out in measured doses, even time spent with our parents.
Luke had a lot to be angry about right now, and I would've expected him to be surly or impatient, but that wasn’t the case. The fact that he maintained his humor and good nature made him even more appealing.
I was standing at the kitchen counter packing cookies into Tupperware bins I’d found when strong arms encircled my waist from behind. Luke pressed into me, fitting his hard body against my back, and I closed my eyes and let my head lob back against his sculpted chest. He was warm and wonderfully masculine. I sighed, marveling that this could feel so right. This night. This place. This man. I realized that I’d been searching for this feeling my entire life, and found it in the cocoon of Luke’s arms. It scared me to fully analyze that thought, and I had to take a deep reality-checking breath.
His nose nuzzled into my neck and I felt his lips against my skin, the sensation cascading in fluffy waves over my body. I arched my head to give him better access and his teeth scraped around to my nape, catching a sensitive spot and provoking a soft moan.
“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered.
My head jerked toward the hall and he paused, seeming to read my thoughts.
“Once she’s put to bed, she sleeps like a log.”
I turned in the circle of his arms and was surprised by the profound emotion on his face. His emerald eyes stared possessively and he made no attempt to hide his raw lust. I nodded my answer as my temperature jacked up a few degrees, heating me to a quick boil. Zero to sixty. That’s how it was with him. Cupping my chin, he lined up our gazes.
“I just want you to know that I’ve never had a woman stay over. I tend to be very protective of Livy.”
I nodded. “She’s a great kid. Seems to have inherited your sense of humor.”
“Poor kid,” he chuckled, taking my hand and leading me down the hall.
I walked into Luke’s room and it wasn’t at all what I’d pictured. It was a large room with a gigantic four poster bed in the middle. The posts were made from beautiful, ornately carved wood that reminded me of totem poles. His comforter was a geometric brown and beige pattern. Beyond that, the room had a minimalist decor. Plain white shades at the window, a lush dark beige rug covered the hardwood floor, and a small desk and chair sat in the corner. I scanned the room and was surprised to see no paintings or pictures on the walls.
Luke drew me close to the bed and pulled my sweater over my head. I waited, expecting him to divest my jeans, but he pulled me into him and claimed my lips. I leaned in, deepening the kiss, loving the way his mouth possessed mine so thoroughly. His warm hands coasted over my shoulders and down my back, his fingers kneading and massaging a lazy rhythm. Reaching around, he unhooked my bra. It fell to the floor, freeing my jutting breasts and allowing them to fall into his palms. I warbled when he rolled my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pulling a taut string that seemed to originate in my sex. Desire buzzed through me, taking a circuitous path that bedeviled every nerve ending.
Luke traced the pads of his finger slowly down my neck and across my chest, a reverent touch that reminded me of that first night in the dark at Sensations. I had to admit that now knowing my lover was Luke—this tall, gorgeous, dark haired man—amplified the effect of his touch. He took a step back and his gaze meandered lazily over my face and breasts and I felt my nipples throb under the scrutiny.
“You are beautiful, Kay. I’ve pictured you here in this room so many times.”
A slight smile tickled the corner of his mouth and his dimple appeared, leaving me wondering just what he’d imagined. My gaze lingered on his dimple. I wanted to lick it. In fact, I wanted to run my tongue all over his body. The thought materialized out of nowhere. It was ushered into my head by an intense craving that made my mouth water with desire. He stepped away to lock the door and turn off the overhead light while I removed the rest of my clothing. After flicking on a small lamp on the desk, he returned to me, openly admiring my nakedness. His eyes seemed to darken as his gaze ate me up.
Single minded, I approached him with a sly smile, swaying my hips in a way I hoped was seductive. I couldn’t help but laugh at his raised eyebrow when I issued orders not to move. As I started unbuttoning his shirt, he bent and planted a kiss on the bridge of my nose. His breath warmed my face and I inhaled deeply, always wanting everything from him.
“Be careful with those buttons. You know your track record with my shirts.” His wide grin was stunning and left me slightly breathless.
I shot him a mocking gaze, but truthfully I wanted to rip the clothes off his body. Barely mastering the task, I skimmed the shirt from his broad shoulders then let my palms drift over his beautiful dragon. My fingers were shaking as I made quick work of his jeans and I chastised myself because this wasn’t our first time having sex. I shouldn’t be nervous. But being here in his personal space and spending time with him forced me to confront the depth of my feelings for him. It was overwhelming and confusing, because just days ago I’d been ready to spend my life with someone else.
Intentionally refocusing my thoughts, I tiptoed and flicked my tongue across his lips, stopping beside his mouth to pay homage to my favorite spot. He groaned and tried to capture my lips, but I pulled away with a grin, reprimanding him for not following orders. I sat on the edge of the bed and regarded him. He had some serious tenting of his boxers and I knew exactly where my tongue wanted to start its road trip.
I leaned forward and smudged the flat of my tongue up his thick length, then made a slow circular sweep around the plump head. The sound that erupted from Luke started deep in his belly and emerged as a rough shout.
“Christ, Kay!” he gasped, bucking his hips. His cock twitched and knocked against my lips and I made another slow swipe.
My taste buds burst with the musky flavor of his essence, and I wanted more of that delicious taste. Greedy now, I wrapped my lips around his tip and sucked, moaning at the thick, slippery feel and the heavy weight. I bobbed my head on him, taking him in shallow gulps. Hearing his deep grunts inspired me and I tried to accommodate more of his length. I was only able to swallow about two thirds of his cock, but I hollowed my cheeks and created an intense suction that had his fingers delving into my hair, gripping it hard.
“Fuck, Kay! You’re killing me!” he hissed when I continued the hard suction. At the same time, I curled my tongue along his slick shaft, trying to lick the portion I couldn’t fit in my mouth. I continued that way for a few minutes, enjoying his flavor and his inarticulate groans. I felt him throb and pulse in my mouth, his hot shaft swelling to unbelievable fullness.
Abruptly he fisted my ponytail and pulled from my mouth, cursing roughly. He kept his bloated tip resting on my bottom lip, and I felt him dump a few more drops of pre-cum onto my lips. I groaned and darted out my tongue, desperate for more of his taste. I felt drunk with lust, the ache reaching deep between my legs to drench my puffy folds. He was staring down at me, his broad chest rising and falling quickly. I could tell he was dangling from a sharp edge, holding on with just a sliver of control. His strong features were strained with raw desire and there was something like awe widening his eyes.
