Ice Daddy

by June Winters

  If she knew? It'd crush her.

  Unless I'm not the father.

  He couldn't take it anymore; he had to say something. He had to just put it out there—just explain the ordeal he was going through. Paige was smart and understanding. She'd see where he was coming from, wouldn't she? She had to. Like Kip said, if she had nothing to hide, she shouldn't be upset.

  His jaw silently worked back and forth as he summoned the nerve.

  But Paige spoke first. “I'm so excited, Lance! We're really moving to Boston tomorrow. Whoa. I can't believe it. I just want to pinch myself … I keep expecting to wake from a dream!”

  Lance nearly choked. “Right?”

  Paige threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her lips had the softness of rose petals, and she kissed him with a desperate yearning, as if she wanted even more of him. Could she sense his troubles? Did some part of her know?

  But her lips seemed to heal the wounds in his heart and sweep away the confusion in his head. He began to kiss her deeper, and his cock rose again, pumping longer with each pulse of his heart.

  “Hm,” she giggled, her breath hot in his ear. “Getting excited again, I see.”

  Paige wrapped her tiny hand around his lumbering shaft. She tugged him in the dark, her luscious tongue slithering against his, until he was swollen in her fist. She began to jerk him harder, faster, her fist pumping up and down his length like a piston.

  “Paige …” he sighed.

  Her touch felt so right—but guilt still lingered in his head like a morning fog. He didn't know what to do, and a complicated knot tightened in his throat.

  “Sucking your cock made me so wet, Lance.” Paige whispered. “Wanna feel?”

  She stole his hand and placed it between her legs. The blistering heat between her thighs beckoned for his touch like a siren's song. He was lured to it. An animal desire filled him, and Lance burrowed his hand under the waist of her sexy red panties. His fingers delicately traced her sopping wet folds, soft as silk.

  “Damn, Paige,” he whispered. “You're so wet.”

  His touch made her writhe and moan with pleasure beneath him. He couldn't stop himself now. His fingers ran along her slit and teased her folds apart until she begged for his finger.

  Lance dipped his finger into her creamy tightness and finger-fucked her, one cruel inch at a time. Paige began to gasp and moan as his finger cork screwed into her vise-tight walls. Her breathless pants came like puffs on his neck, hot, humid and sticky.

  “Paige,” Lance groaned vulnerably. He knew he couldn't trust himself. If she wanted him, how could he resist …?

  “Please,” she begged. “I want you inside me. I need you inside me, Lance.”

  She spoke those words like a spell. Her words clouded Lance's judgment and he did the only thing he could do. He let out a hungry growl and dragged Paige to the edge of the love seat. He spread her legs, pulled her panties askew, and set the tip of his cock at her opening.

  “Inside me,” she whispered, nodding.

  Lance pushed forward, sinking his weight into her tight, sweltering hole.

  “God, yes,” he grunted as his hips crashed into her pelvis.

  Chapter 24

  Paige

  Paige guided the hockey star's hands to the throbbing warmth between her legs. Despite being so rough and calloused, he had the perfect touch: skilled, smooth, confident. They were man's hands, and Paige wanted his titan-sized mitts all over her body.

  His touch was magical. But even as he thrust his thick finger in and out of her, her juices pooling on the base of his finger, Paige still couldn't shake the feeling that he was holding something back.

  What's wrong?

  She didn't know.

  She also couldn't be sure she wasn't imagining it entirely.

  Her legs spread wider for him. Her moans were designed to coax the athlete to explore her deeper, to totally lose himself in her.

  Soon, she begged for him. He dragged her across the love seat until her bottom hung off the edge of the sofa, as if he were a caveman and she were his pitiful plaything. But never had she felt so pleased, so relieved, to belong to someone.

  She tried to stare into his eyes as he mounted her, but Lance kept his eyes squeezed shut. Slowly, his solid inches filled her, and his girth stretched her wide. Paige sank her nails into his wide, muscular back as she adjusted to his size. He tunneled further into her tightness, grunting and groaning with male delight.

  At last, his chiseled waist touched her pelvis. He was buried inside her, and for a few perfect seconds, they held perfectly still, mated in blissful union. Paige quivered at the sensation of Lance's cock, throbbing with his pulse.

  Then, with a grunt and a gasp, they came apart.

  Again, he slid into her, and slowly withdrew.

  She needed more. She needed all of him. Paige wrapped her legs around the taut athlete and pulled him tighter, closer, deeper into her body.

  “Harder, Lance,” she demanded.

  He obeyed, thrusting into her harder, deeper. But it was still not what she wanted.

  “Fuck me like a man,” she pleaded.

  Those were the magic words. Lance roared and scooped her off the love seat and tossed her to the carpet. He mounted her again, spreading her legs as a fire rose in his irises. His waist crashed into her pelvis, stapling her to the floor with authority.

  “Yes!” she whimpered. “Harder!”

  Lance fucked her harder, faster, deeper. A misting of sweat appeared in the fine blond hairs between Lance's pecs, like morning dew on blades of grass. Beads of sweat shook free from his mountainous pecs, splattering her belly like a sprinkling rain as he pummeled her with his thickness. He tasted her flesh, nibbling and sucking at her neck, as his thick cock pumped and swiveled inside her.

  “More! More!”

  Roughly, he flipped her over as if she weighed nothing and positioned her on all fours. Grabbing two mighty handfuls of her ass, he spread her opening wider and thrust in. Wet smacks of sticky, sweaty flesh filled the living room of her apartment. He fucked her on the carpet like an animal, jack-hammering her from behind with his big dick.

  Paige grasped at the carpet, clawing at the tiny fibers with her fingers as he filled her again and again.

  Soon, Lance began to grunt and groan, and the stud's pace began to splinter into a broken staccato rhythm. He was close and trying to fight off his climax. Paige clenched her muscles and squeezed him tighter.

  “Come, Lance,” she moaned. “Give me your cum.”

  With a roar, Lance pulled out. He burst like a geyser, and the first blast of his seed arced high over her body. The rest of his load splattered up her back, painting long lines of his warm and heavy cum.

  And then, spent, the rest of the athlete's body followed. He collapsed on top of her in an exhausted heap. She was happily ground into the carpet, smashed beneath the solid mass of the hockey player. His cream was like a slick, tallowy glue between their sweaty bodies.

  “Wow,” she said, gasping for breath. The salty scent of sweat and fluids hung in the air all around her. “That was a big load, Lance.”

  He chuckled sleepily. When he finally rolled off her and onto his back, Paige attached herself to his torso like a koala. His chest was so warm and hairy and comfortable.

  Minutes passed with no need to speak or move.

  “I hope you'll spend the night with me,” Paige said at last.

  “Of course,” he said, kissing her gently on the forehead.

  She sat up. “Then we should head to bed. We've got a big day tomorrow.”

  The two rose to their feet.

  Paige put her finger to her lips as they entered the bedroom. “She's still sleeping.”

  Chapter 25

  Lance

  Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep!

  Lance's cell phone alarm woke everyone in the room at six in the morning. Irie immediately began to cry, and Paige rushed out of bed to pick her up from her crib. Paige slipped
the sleeve of her night gown off her shoulder and gave Irie her breast, and the child's cries came to an abrupt end as she began to nurse.

  “Morning, birthday boy,” Paige said.

  “Morning.”

  She climbed back into bed, sang him 'happy birthday' in a sexy, feather-light voice, and concluded with a kiss.

  He smiled at her, touched. “Thank you.”

  “Today's the big day!” she said happily. “I still can't believe it.”

  Lance watched Irie nurse. He was slow to rise; he didn't want to get up at all. He wished he could stay in that room, just the three of them, for all time.

  But last night had changed his mind, at least. Making love to Paige had brought her closer into his heart—and sleeping in her bed, with his arm wrapped around her warm body, with their daughter sleeping just a few feet away, was the final straw. He knew he couldn't do what Kip was asking. He couldn't call off their plans—not after convincing Paige to quit her job and pack her bags. There was a middle way, wasn't there? She could come to Boston and they could still have a paternity test done … he'd just have to keep the truth from Kip a little bit longer. And maybe that meant no one could know about Paige until they had the results of the paternity test. But that wouldn't take too long, right? A few days at most.

  After breakfast, Lance loaded Paige's bags into her car.

  “Alright, that's it!” he said, dusting his hands. “Car's loaded and ready to go. Soon as you two are ready, we're off.”

  “Great,” Paige said as she dressed Irie. “So what are we going to do to celebrate your birthday tonight? Should we invite your sister over, so Ella can meet her niece? Maybe your hockey buddies, too?”

  “Hm.” Lance pretended to think it over. He didn't have the heart to tell Paige that they couldn't do that just yet. “I dunno.”

  Paige pulled over Irie's Brawlers jersey over her head. That detail nearly broke Lance's heart. He looked at his little girl, the girl he was pretty damn sure was his, still wrestling with what he had to do. Paige studied him quietly. He could tell she'd suspected something was wrong since last night, and his heart hammered in his chest. He hoped she wouldn't take offense at what he had to ask her to do once they got back in Boston.

  “You know, you're awfully quiet this morning,” she said.

  He sipped the last of his coffee. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “You're not having second thoughts about me coming with you, are you? Because if you are, just say so. I don't have to come with you just yet. We can slow things down if you're not ready.”

  He shook his head. “No. I want you in Boston with me, Paige. You and Irie both.”

  She smiled, relieved. “Good.”

  They left her apartment and climbed into Paige's car. It was a bright morning in Nashville and the snow was quickly melting under the morning sun. The traffic was light, and they made it to Lance's hotel in no time. He fetched his bag from his room, checked out from the hotel, and the family sped off to the airport.

  They were only miles from the airport when Paige suddenly struck her forehead with her palm. “Oh my God. I totally forgot to tell my parents what we're doing—I'm the worst daughter ever!” She passed Lance her phone. “Can you dial my Dad?”

  Lance and stared at the phone. “Right now? Are you sure?”

  “I should tell them I'm going to Boston for a few days at least, right?”

  Lance gulped. “Yeah, you're right.” He dialed Paige's Dad, hoping he wouldn't pick up. But of course, her Dad answered on the first ring. Lance set it on speaker so they could all talk.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey there, Mr. McMillan.”

  “Who's this?”

  “This is Lance Couture.”

  “Hey there, Lance! What can I do for you?”

  “I'm here with Paige and Irie. We're in the car.”

  “Hi Dad!” Paige said.

  “Hi sweetheart! What are you two up to today?”

  “Lance and I have some pretty big news, Dad,” Paige said. “Is Mom there? She should hear this too. Put us on speaker.”

  “Here I am!” Paige's Mom called from the background. “What's the big news?”

  Paige looked at Lance, biting her lip, her eyes silently begging him to rescue her.

  Lance forced a smile through gritted teeth. “Hey there, Mrs. McMillan. So this is kind of super last-minute notice … sorry for that … but Paige and Irie are actually coming with me back to Boston.”

  “What?” her Mom gasped. Lance couldn't tell if she was happy, appalled, or both. “You are?!”

  “Yep!” Paige answered. “I'll come back to Nashville in a week or so, so I can tie up some loose ends. We'll have a more proper goodbye then, okay? And I can explain everything.”

  “What?” her Mom gasped again. “But what about your job?”

  “Yeah—I quit the Burger Stand last night.”

  “Oh … wow … it's all so sudden. So you two are dating now?”

  “Er, yeah, we sure are,” Paige bleated anxiously. She gave Lance a timid glance. “Anyway, we're on our way to the airport. I should hang up since I ought to be focusing on the road. I just wanted to let you guys know what was up before we took off.”

  “Well, thank you very much for the notice, sweetheart,” her Mom said, her southern drawl suddenly quite thick.

  All four people yelled into the speaker at once, “Byeeee!”

  The call ended.

  “Yikes.” Paige's cheeks blushed red with shame. “That did not go so well.”

  “No? It seemed to go okay to me.”

  “Are you kidding? Mom was ready to explode at the end there. Don't let her politeness fool you. She's doing that southern kill-'em-with-kindness thing. In reality, she's furious with me. I can't blame her, either.”

  Lance frowned. “Damn. Sorry.”

  “Oh well! It's done. And you were right. I feel a lot better now that I told them … although I'll have to tell them the whole story later.” She winked at Lance. “Hopefully by then, she'll have cooled down. Or she will assume the worst. But once I tell her the truth, that you're Irie's father, and an amazing one at that, she'll understand.”

  Lance's shoulder sank. Every compliment she paid him felt like another shovelful of dirt thrown over his body.

  The car veered gently to exit the highway. The airport was just ahead and jets, hanging low in the sky, thundered overhead.

  ***

  Lance, Paige and Irie lounged at the departure gate. Their plane was almost ready for boarding, and the airport workers began to buzz like bees in a hive. They were that much closer to their new lives.

  Lance knew he'd been quiet all morning. He could see a suspicion lurking in Paige's eyes, and he tried his best to avoid it. It was easier to focus his attention on Irie instead. He bounced the laughing, babbling cutie in his arms.

  He felt a tugging on the sleeve of his coat. “Hey. Lance.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Look. I can tell something's bothering you, you know. We might not know everything about each other just yet, but I'm not stupid.”

  Lance went silent.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I shouldn't say.”

  Her jaw fell open, as if she were both stunned and livid that her gut instinct was actually right. “So there is something bothering you.”

  Acid roiled in his stomach. “Ugh.”

  “Tell me what it is now, Lance. Before the three of us get on that plane.”

  All this time he'd been wondering the best way to bring it up, and yet he still had no ideas. He did the only thing he could—he took a deep breath and blurted it out.

  “Do you know, for sure, that Irie's my daughter?”

  Paige's mouth cinched shut. “Whoa, wait. This again? Now? After what I just told my parents?”

  “I'm only asking because—”

  She clamped a hand on her temples. “Because now you're having doubts. Because you don't believe me.” She swore under her breath. �
��I'm so stupid. I can't believe I quit my job—”

  He pulled her by the waist. “No, you're not stupid at all. I believe you, Paige. It's just …” He trailed off, hunting for the right words.

  The announcement came over the PA. “This is the pre-boarding announcement for Flight 3898 to Boston Logan International Airport. We'd like to invite those passengers with small children to begin boarding at this time.”

  Lance rose from his seat, but Paige didn't.

  “Tell me now, Lance. I can't get on that plane if you're having second thoughts.”

  “Damn it,” he mumbled. “Last night, I told my PR guy about Irie. He thinks I'm making a mistake.”

  “A mistake.” Her eyes narrowed. “But what do you think?”

  “I told you, I believe you. But …”

  “But?”

  “They're hanging the captaincy over my head, Paige. I don't know what to do. I'm always in trouble with these guys. And now he says I need to get a paternity test done.”

  “I told you, I'll take one. I don't have anything to fear, Lance. You're her father. Period.”

  “I know,” he said quietly, and he gave both girls a kiss on the forehead.

  “So what's the problem?” Paige asked.

  He lowered his voice. “Once we're in Boston, we might have to lay low for a few days.”

  “Lay low? What does that even mean?”

  “… My PR guy said that I'm not supposed to make any sort of plans with you. I'm supposed to keep my contact with you limited until we have the results from the paternity test.”

  She guffawed. “Unbelievable, Lance. You are unbelievable.” She glanced towards the airport exit. Was she considering running out? “I can't believe you're telling me this now. After I quit my job and everything.”

  “I talked to him after you quit your job. I swear I didn't know yet.”

  “But you knew when you slept with me last night, didn't you?”

  He dropped his head. “Paige, I …”