Hot Dad

by Whitley Cox

  It took roughly forty minutes for the five of us, plus Sam, to get cleared by Ben and sent on our way. Thankfully, Quinn and the children had been upstairs and the fire was started and remained downstairs, so no one had inhaled any smoke.

  Sam had agreed to stick around and deal with the cops, fire department and investigator, allowing Quinn and I to finally take the children home. They’d all become incredibly whiny and their cooperation with Ben had lasted all of about ten seconds.

  Once Quinn and the kids were in her SUV, a sleepy Carly and I made our way down the slick driveway to Sam’s car.

  Minutes later we were on the road, headed to Sam’s house, while Sam dealt with our home. We needed to deal with the children. We needed to keep them safe. As I pulled up to a red light, the realization of what could have happened swamped me, and the tears came on like a tsunami. What if Sam hadn’t been there? Could I have fought the fire on my own? Could Quinn had fought the fire? What if we hadn’t caught it in time? Would we, would the children have made it out alive?

  Fear snagged my chest, and I fought hard to breathe. If it weren’t for Sam, we might not be here right now. I owed him my life. I owed him Carly’s life. Emmet’s life. Lillian’s life. Quinn’s life. I owed him everything.

  The green light at the intersection was blurry through the tears, but like a robot, I hit the gas and powered forward, my whole body shaking as I went through an odd form of shock.

  Moments later, Sam’s road came up on the left, and I turned, making sure Quinn followed. We were in his driveway after two more turns, in a quiet little cul-de-sac in a beautiful neighborhood. The front door opened, and his father, Russ, stood there with the light from the entryway illuminating his big, broad frame like the sun behind a statue. We met him on the doorstep moments later, with tired toddlers, bags and the scent of fire.

  “Come in, come in,” he said, his smile understanding. “I have the office made up for Quinn and the kids. There’s a futon and blow-up mattresses on the floor.”

  “Thank you,” Quinn murmured, dropping her bag at the foot of the stairs, a long-limbed Emmet draped over her chest. The kid had fallen asleep almost immediately in the car and hadn’t bothered to wake up in the transfer.

  Without batting an eye, Russ took Emmet from Quinn, cradling the little boy against his muscular chest, then headed for the stairs. “Make yourselves at home,” he said, stopping on the third step and turning around. “Harper, you and Carly are in Sam’s room. He said he’ll take the couch.”

  Quinn let out a big sigh and drew Lillian into her for a hug. Lillian’s eyes were tired, just like the rest of us, but she was an old soul, and behind that fatigue was a wisdom and calmness that I found equal parts reassuring as I did eerie.

  She rubbed her mother’s back. “It’ll be okay, Mummy. We’ll go home soon.” She reached for her mother’s hand and pulled her up the stairs. “Let’s go to bed.”

  Back on autopilot, Quinn grabbed hers and the kids’ bags and followed her wise little six-year-old up the stairs. I followed a moment or two later with Carly, setting her to rest in Sam’s big king-size bed. Her dinosaurs and blanket were all tucked up tight as she nestled down dead center among all the pillows. Once I knew she was asleep, I slipped into the master bathroom and quickly showered. I needed to get rid of the smell. Smoke clung to my skin, my hair. It’d embedded itself in my pores, and if I had any intention of falling asleep, ever, I needed it gone.

  I emerged a few minutes later, toasty warm, smelling like Sam’s body wash and rosy red from the hot shower. In my haste to pack, I’d neglected to pack another nightshirt or anything resembling pajamas, so opening up Sam’s dresser drawer, the same dresser where he’d laid out his punishment and pleasure tools, I dug around until I found a big and what appeared to be old Simon Fraser University T-shirt. I tugged it on over my head; it hit just above my knees. Soft and well worn, it smelled of Sam and whatever wood the dresser was made of.

  Noise on the stairs had me turning around to find him making his way up. He was back in civilian clothes but still covered in soot and grime. His sizzling blue eyes were weary and bloodshot, probably from the smoke, while his glorious red hair was streaked with black and filled with ash.

  I went to him, and his big arms engulfed me. We just held each other at the top of the stairs for a while. His big, warm, gladiator body shrouded me in a mantle of protection and love. I’d never felt such love, such possessiveness or need to protect from someone before. I felt these things myself with Carly, but I’d never been on the receiving end. To know I was so loved, so cherished warmed my heart and brought fresh tears to my eyes. I shook in his muscular arms as he continued to hold me there in the dark hallway.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured, finally allowing me to be the one to break down. After I’d been the rock for Quinn, now it was my turn to crumble. “We did the right thing. The cops and arson investigators are looking into it now. They’ll be by in the morning for statements. You’re safe here. You’re all safe here.” His big hands rubbed my back, easing away the ache, the fear, the loss. “I’ll protect you, Harper. You, Carly, your family. I’ll protect you all. You have my word.”

  He pulled away slightly, so we were eye-to-eye. Tears dribbled down my cheeks and over my lips. He kissed them away. “You should get some sleep, though,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll go shower in Landon and Gemma’s bathroom, then sleep on the couch.” He wiped more of my tears away with his big thumbs and kissed me once more. “It’ll all be better in the morning. The house is still standing. Everyone is safe. Go sleep.”

  All I could do was nod.

  He patted my bum once as I turned to go.

  “Good girl.”

  Chapter 22

  Sam

  Fear. White-hot, bone-crushing, heart-shredding fear ripped through me as I let the water sluice down my body in the much too hot shower. I could have lost her. Had I not been there, she and Carly might not have made it out in time. Harper hadn’t seen the flames in the kitchen and foyer, but I had. They were huge. Much too big to be an accident or an element left on. By the time I got out to the scene, the entire place was going up in orange licking flames, and it was all I could do between the extinguisher on the wall, towels and the hose from the sink to tame the inferno. If we’d waited for the fire department, the entire place would have crumbled to ashes, and there wouldn’t be a home to return to. At least not for Harper and Carly. The fire was moving fast and would have made it to the living room in minutes.

  Someone had done it on purpose. I could smell accelerant, and based on the way the flames practically swam up the sides of the walls and the kitchen cupboards, it was as though whoever it was had sprayed the accelerant all over the kitchen. This was deliberate. Someone was out to hurt—or kill—Harper.

  Dead on my feet, I shut the water off and got out, giving my head a couple of quick rubs with the towel before securing it around my lower half. I had a clean, dry load of laundry in the dryer with some boxers, so I didn’t need to disturb Harper and Carly. They were probably already asleep, anyway.

  I made up a bed on the couch, not that I needed much. A pillow and a blanket would suffice for the night. After triple-checking that the doors were locked, I collapsed like a ton of bricks onto the couch. I was asleep in seconds.

  I’m not sure how long I’d been asleep when a creak on the last step of the stairs had me stirring awake. Gemma knew not to come downstairs in the middle of the night, but if she’d woken up and gone looking for me, she might be curious, if not a tad worried to find Harper and Carly in my bed. Prying one eye open and expecting to see a sleepy-eyed toddler with wild strawberry hair and a stuffy under her arm, I came face to face with long legs and red painted toes with a sexy little toe ring.

  She was wearing my SFU T-shirt, and it looked good on her, hitting mid-thigh and showing off those perky breasts. Despite my exhaustion, my cock jerked to life in my boxers.

  “Hi,” she whispered. She came to stan
d over me. “I can’t sleep.”

  Lifting the blanket, I welcomed her into me. She came willingly and settled down beside me. We were a tight fit on the couch, but she draped one leg over mine, letting her arm and head rest on my chest. I held onto her for dear life, inhaling her incredible scent and kissing the top of her head.

  “I never thanked you,” she said quietly.

  I snorted before I could stop myself. “No thanks needed.” Squeezing her tighter, I let out a loud sigh. “God, Harper … ”

  “I know.” She lifted her head to look at me. Fresh tears blurred her big brown eyes. I wiped them with my thumb. “We might not be here if it wasn’t for you. The flames would have been blocking the front door.”

  She was no dummy. The scorch pattern up the wall and over the door was evidence enough that the blaze had been heavily concentrated in not only the kitchen, but the foyer as well.

  “It’s okay.”

  She pushed herself up to her knees and swung one leg over my waist. I was hard. She rocked into me. She wasn’t wearing any panties, and when her wet heat grazed my shaft, I nearly came right then and there. But we had to be practical here. As badly as I wanted her, needed her, we couldn’t.

  My hands landed on her hips, and I stopped the rocking. “We can’t.”

  Oh God, kill me now. That face. It destroyed me. She thought I was rejecting her.

  NO. Never.

  I shook my head. “We need a condom.”

  A rueful smile caught on her lips. She brought up her right hand. A little black packet sat between her fingers. “I came with a purpose,” she said bluntly.

  Damn, she was fucking perfect. I bucked up into her again and growled, digging my fingers into the soft flesh of her hips.

  “On. Now,” I ordered.

  She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth and fished me out of the hole in my boxers. Using her teeth, she tore the packet and sheathed me in seconds. I watched her in awe as she took control of the situation and slowly sank down, squeezing my shaft until I hit the end of her. I moaned, and my hips jerked up.

  I wasn’t normally one for submission. I’d done it a few times while training with my Dom friend, but the role of the submissive did not come naturally to me, and I did not enjoy it. A woman on top was hot as hell, though, don’t get me wrong. But when it came to the bedroom, for the most part, I was more comfortable being the one calling the shots. I’d tell you when I wanted you on top. But something about Harper and the moment, the way she looked at me as she slowly bobbed up and down in my lap, told me she needed the control tonight. She’d come down here, condom in hand, without any panties on, with a plan. She needed this.

  I can only imagine how in the last few weeks her world had slowly started to spin out of control. Our relationship was anything but orthodox. I’d handcuffed her the first time we had sex. My ex was back in the picture and making our lives miserable. Toss in life with a toddler as a single parent and her house catching fire and any ordinary woman’s tether would have snapped ages ago. Harper was a strong woman. Stronger than most. But we all had a breaking point, and I could tell in her eyes earlier tonight that she was approaching hers. She needed to take back some of that control, and tonight I was more than willing to give it to her.

  My hands rested back on her hips as I pushed up, feeling her warm, wet pussy grip my shaft like a fist with each plunge. God, she felt good.

  “Touch me.” She whispered her demand as she brought her hands up to her breasts and cupped them over the big T-shirt.

  Needing more skin-to-skin, more of her softness beneath my palms, I shoved my hands beneath the shirt and cupped her breasts, kneading the creamy mounds before pulling and flicking the diamond-hard nipples. Her mouth opened with a quick inhale when I tugged a little harder and her body fell forward, her hands on my bare chest, her mouth hovering just over mine. Her hair, though not long, fell forward around our faces, shielding us in a silky curtain.

  “So … good.” She sighed, licking the corners of my lips, nibbling softly but not kissing me.

  I swallowed. So fucking good.

  I reared up and snagged her bottom lips between my teeth, pulling, before taking what I knew she needed, what she was offering. I thrust my tongue inside her mouth and fucked her hard. My hips and tongue pumped into her in tandem, consuming her just as she consumed me. Her whimper, soft, feminine and wanton, made my lungs seize.

  She ground down against my pelvis, and I growled into her mouth. Her pussy was so hot, so tight, I wasn’t going to last long. I tugged harder on her nipples and she gasped, breaking our kiss. Bringing one hand down between us, I flicked her clit with my thumb, raked my nail across its tender hood until she shuddered above me. Her breathing hitched, and her cadence waned. She was close.

  “Sam.”

  “Come, Harper.” I trailed my tongue along her jaw and the shell of her ear, nipping the lobe before making my way down to her neck. Her pulse thudded fiercely against my lips. She was unraveling fast. “Come, baby. Let go. I’ll catch you.”

  “Oh, God … ”

  I swirled my pelvis below her, pinched her clit and flung her off the cliff. But the woman didn’t drop. No, she flew. Pulsing, throbbing and clenching, her wicked heat clutched around me and brought me up into the ether with her. I sank my teeth into her shoulder and let go, allowing the orgasm to spear both of us with the same blade.

  “Fuck,” she whispered against my temple, her brain and body slowly embracing reality again along with my own.

  “Yeah.”

  I pushed my hands beneath her shirt and wrapped my arms around her, rubbing her back. She was warm and soft and smelled like my body wash. I buried my face in her hair and inhaled, never wanting to move from this spot. It was where we belonged. Together. In my house, with me inside Harper, her in my arms; our children sleeping safe and peacefully. This was the life I wanted. The life we deserved.

  Something warm and wet dropped onto my neck, and a gentle tremble filled my palms. She was crying.

  Fuck.

  “Shh,” I cooed. “It’ll be okay.”

  She’d been so strong. She was strong. And I was sure she had the best of intentions coming down here on the quest for sex. She’d wanted to take life into her own hands and just feel, but now that she was feeling, she was feeling everything: love, stresses, worries, fears, anger, confusion. They were all at the surface and coming at her in waves.

  “It’s okay. You can stay here as long as you need to. We have space.”

  “Who?” she blubbered.

  Who?

  “Who would do this? Who would sneak into my home, into my sister’s home and set it on fire? Why?”

  I shook my head.

  Could it have been Meegan? No. Even she wasn’t that cruel, that calculating—was she?

  Finally, I just said, “I don’t know.”

  I’d fought enough fires to know that it hadn’t been a fucking accident, and I’d told her as much earlier. But there was no sense upsetting her further tonight. We’d find out soon enough from the adjuster and fire investigator that it was arson. And then we’d get on figuring out who decided to endanger innocent children. And then we would make them pay.

  She lifted her head, tears streamed down her cheeks, and I used my hand bunched in her shirt to wipe them away. I was getting soft beneath her and would soon slip out. But I didn’t want to break the connection until she was ready.

  She must have felt me on the verge of slipping out, too, because with a gentle sniff and a shaky chest, she lifted up on her knees and pulled off. Deftly, I removed the condom, tied it, snatched a handful of tissues from the box behind me on the end table, wadded it all up and dropped it to the floor.

  I wanted to invite her to stay with me, to sleep, but I knew she needed to get back to Carly upstairs. The clock over in the corner of the dark living room said it was closing in on three, and if Carly was anything like my kids, late bedtime or not, she’d be up before the paperboy.

  A musc
le ticked along her sexy jaw, and her soft brown eyes blinked down at me. “I-I should go. If she wakes up, she might get upset.”

  I nodded and helped her up, the blanket slipping off my legs as I stood up. I pulled my boxers back into place before facing her. “We’ll sort it all out tomorrow.”

  Her gaze fell on her feet, and any energy or fight she might have had left escaped her on a big sigh. “Yeah … tomorrow.”

  I lifted her chin with my knuckle. “I said you guys could stay here for as long as you needed to, and I meant it.”

  Her lips pursed into a smile, but there was nothing but worry in those big brown eyes. “Thanks.”

  I leaned forward and brushed my lips against hers. “Do I need to bend you over my knee and spank you until you believe me? Because I will. I’m not going anywhere, Harper. You, Carly, you’re part of my life now. We’ll sort it all out together, I promise.”

  Intrigue flared in those tired eyes, and finally a hint of a real smile tugged at her lips as they rested against mine. “I’m too tired for a spanking … sir. But I believe you.”

  She licked her lips. Then I licked her lips. “Bedtime.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I growled against her mouth. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

  Another smile. She kissed me, and I kissed her back. But this time there were no tongues. It was a gentle kiss. Gentler than the ones earlier. We kissed like we’d been kissing for years. I was kissing my partner. I was home.

  “I’ll never be finished with you,” she murmured. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  Oh fuck, baby. The feeling is mutual.

  I groaned. “Me either. Never enough.”

  But we needed sleep. Even though my johnson could go another round, my brain and body were feeling the wear of the day. With an inner frown, I patted her bum and turned her around. “Off to bed, woman. We’ll tackle tomorrow together. But for now, sleep.”