Saved by the Single Dad (The Single Dads of Seattle Book 3)

by Whitley Cox

  Paige’s pussy clenched and her nipples pebbled beneath her corset. She’d waited far too long as well.

  “How far are you from home?”

  “Fifteen minutes tops. Just left SeaTac.”

  She made her way into their bedroom and lay down on their bed, letting her hand slowly make its way beneath her yoga pants and into her G-string. “I can’t wait. I may have to start without you.”

  Mitch groaned on the other end. “You can start, but don’t you dare finish.”

  She flicked her clit with her thumb, and her eyes fluttered shut. “Deal.”

  The call disconnected, and she pulled her hand free, stood up and got undressed.

  As he’d so gallantly offered, Mitch had gotten a vasectomy six months ago. Only the man must’ve had super sperm, because after the mandatory four-week waiting period between the procedure and the test, he still had quite a healthy count of active swimmers. They had to wait another month to re-test him. And when they did, the poor guy still had a count. There were less viable sperm this time, but there were still enough little Mitches doing the backstroke in the specimen cup for the doctor to caution them. So they had to remain vigilant and keep their condom supply stocked.

  They were now six months post-procedure and Mitch had submitted his third sample to the lab right before he left for San Francisco. They’d been impatiently waiting for the call, for the all-clear. And now they finally had it.

  They were safe.

  Safe from pregnancy.

  Safe from miscarriage.

  Safe from heartache.

  Sure, nothing was one hundred percent, but nobody got out of life alive, so there was no sense dwelling on odds and probability when the time they had on this earth could be enjoyed to its fullest. Mitch had taught her that.

  Mitch had taught her a lot.

  Mitch had saved her.

  He’d saved her from herself. From the downward spiral she’d been so caught up in for much too long. From the negative thoughts she couldn’t tune out, from the self-deprecation and feelings of failure.

  Mitch had shown her the beauty inside her and all the amazing things she had to offer the world. He reminded her that contrary to what the voices in her head said, she was a good mother, an amazing chef and worthy of not only self-love but love from others as well. She had lost a lot in the last few years, and because of that, she nearly lost herself. But Mitch had shown her a way to climb out of the well. He’d helped her find the footholds and the crags to hold on to. Sure, once in a while she’d slip, lose her footing and let a negative thought or a negative person impact her day and drag her down into the dark. She knew now, though, that Mitch and the girls were always there to throw a hand over the edge and haul her back up into the light, to bring her out of the bleakness and despair and remind her of all the good in her life, all the incredible things she had going for her.

  Once out of her clothes, she reclined back on the bed in her black and cream corset, thigh-highs and G-string. She’d never felt so sexy in all her life.

  She wasn’t sure what had come over her the day she ordered the set online. But when the ad popped up in her newsfeed, she hadn’t been able to get the idea of surprising Mitch with the outfit out of her head. It had bombarded her thoughts for an entire day, even disrupting her sleep. So at three thirty in the morning, unable to close her eyes without the image of her in the satin and lace out of her mind, she’d reached for her phone and ordered the lingerie.

  It had arrived yesterday, and she’d been itching to try it on.

  It fit like a dream.

  With the remote, she dimmed the bedroom lights and hit the button for the automatic blinds to go up. It was dark outside, the moon was out and full, and they had no neighbors. Why not make love under the light of the moon? Just like their first night together in the backyard.

  It was too chilly outside to go lay in the hammock in the backyard, even though it was April. The weather had been particularly damp and cold this spring. But she looked forward to warm evenings in the coming summer spent swaying in the hammock, drinking wine and making love.

  At such a thought, she pushed her hand back beneath her G-string and rubbed her fingers over her clit. She was already wet, and her pussy throbbed for more attention.

  She heard the garage door go up.

  He was home.

  Mitch took the stairs two at a time.

  His cock throbbed in his jeans with each stride.

  But none of that mattered.

  What mattered waited for him just down the hall. Just beyond the closed door.

  Muted light peeked beneath the door, and he could hear a faint buzzing sound as his hand landed on the latch.

  He pushed down a groan and adjusted the crotch of his jeans before he turned the latch and swung open the door.

  Holy fucking hell.

  Paige, on the bed, in black satin and lace with her hand between her legs and the purple end of a vibrator sticking out the top of her G-string was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen.

  His woman.

  His.

  Her red lips parted just slightly, and her stunning eyes remained closed. She’d obviously heard him thundering up the stairs, if she hadn’t heard the garage door open and close directly beneath their bedroom. Yet she hadn’t stopped. She was continuing to take care of herself.

  Fucking hot.

  Mitch was about to tear his clothes off and pounce, spread her luscious thighs and sink into her sweet heat when the snap-happy photo geek in him elbowed his way forward. He pulled his camera bag off his back and retrieved his lens, fixing it to the front and turning on the camera.

  Paige’s eyes fluttered open, and she smiled a lazy, sexy smile. “Welcome home,” she purred, not bothering to stop.

  His mouth split into a big grin as he brought the camera strap over his neck and played with the settings.

  “You’re not taking pictures of me masturbating,” she said, pulling the vibrator free from her pussy and turning it off. “I’ll pose for a lot of things, but I draw the line there.”

  He took a practice shot, studied it on the screen, then adjusted the settings once more. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But I would like to take a few of you dressed like that.” He released the snap on his jeans and pulled the waistband down just enough to reveal the head of his cock. Her eyes lasered in, and she licked her lips. “For my eyes only, of course,” he said.

  “Just like that is for me and only me?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Only you, baby. Now just lie there and do your thing. Be your natural, beautiful self. Let me do all the work.” He began snapping photos of her, moving about the room to get different angles and work with the lighting. She moved a little here, a little there.

  She was a natural.

  The camera loved her.

  Mitch loved her.

  “Enough,” she breathed, licking her lips and pinning her light brown eyes on him. The gold around her pupils seemed to glow in the soft lamplight. “We’ve waited a hell of a long time for this,” she said, pushing herself up against the pillows, spreading her legs and propping up her knees. Inviting him in. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

  She didn’t have to tell him twice.

  Mitch pulled the camera strap over his head, tossed the Canon down onto the chair in the corner and was naked in less that three seconds. He leapt up onto the bed, prowling toward his woman on all fours, admiring the way her dark, curly hair brushed the tops of her breasts as they practically heaved out of her tight corset.

  He hovered above her, his body between her legs. “Where’d you get this?” He ran his fingers gently down the front of the bodice, then up again, dipping a digit beneath the cup and pulling out a dark, taut nipple.

  “Online,” she breathed, arching her back and pushing her breast toward him.

  He obliged and took the crimson bud between his lips and into the heat of his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around, pulling on it with his teeth unti
l he earned the sharp intake of breath and then a satisfied moan from the woman beneath him.

  Paige’s hands traveled down his back, her nails scraping against his skin. She’d leave marks. She always did. He loved it.

  “We’ve waited so long, baby. I can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmured against her breast, lifting his head and circling her nipple with his tongue.

  “Less talk, more action,” she panted, cupping his butt and digging her nails into the flesh of his ass.

  He hissed from the pain. But that didn’t mean he didn’t like it.

  He liked the pain.

  Liked the way it made him feel.

  Alive.

  Energized.

  Propping himself up on one arm, he pushed the fabric of her flimsy G-string to the side, drawing his fingers up between her plump, damp folds. As much as he wanted to taste her, he wanted to feel her wet heat surrounding him more.

  “Mitchel … ” she moaned.

  He plunged two fingers into her and pumped. She squeezed her muscles around him, drawing him deeper inside her. The ridges of her channel pulsed against his fingertips.

  Pain sprinted down his spine as two hands were thrust into his hair and fingers tugged hard on the roots.

  “For fuck’s sake, fuck me,” she demanded, heaving hard on his hair until he was forced to lift his head and their eyes locked. “We’ve waited so long for this. Stop messing around.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Her impatience was adorable.

  One eyebrow drew up half an inch on her face. “Don’t you smirk at me. Either fuck me or fuck off so I can finish the job you interrupted.” He could tell she was struggling not to smile, which only made his grin grow wider.

  She threw her head back on the pillow and laughed, tugging harder on his hair. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious here.”

  “Blue ovaries?” he joked.

  Her hips jumped off the bed. “Something like that.”

  “We can’t have that, now, can we?” He kissed her, slow and lazy. Taking his time, he pried her lips apart with his tongue and pushed inside, exploring the contours of her mouth, tangoing with her tongue, sucking on it and nipping her bottom lip. And only once he knew she was caught up in the kiss did he slip inside her.

  Her reaction was everything he hoped for. She paused the kiss, went still beneath him, then melted into the mattress and let out a sigh into his mouth. Her fingers relaxed in his hair, her lips and tongue stilled, and she squeezed her muscles around him.

  “That’s it, baby,” he purred, beginning to move, lifting his head to look at her. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right where I want to be. Forever.”

  Paige’s arms flew out to the sides of the bed, and her fingers bunched in the sheets. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her mouth slightly parted.

  Fuck, she was beautiful.

  Stroke after stroke, he watched her body climb the mountain, watched her bite her lip, scrunch her face, gasp as he hit that sweet spot deep inside her. He wasn’t going to last much longer. The anticipation for the last several hours, fuck, of the last several months had pushed away all his stamina.

  Paige’s eyes fluttered open, and what he saw staring back at him damn near made his heart explode.

  Never in a million years did Mitch think he could ever love again. Ever love a woman as fully as he loved Melissa. But Paige had changed all of that. What he’d had with Melissa would forever remain special and unique. She was his first real love, the mother of his child, and he would never stop loving her.

  But he and Paige had something unique too.

  Paige had given him exactly what he needed and when he needed it the most—hope.

  She let him in, let him show her that she wasn’t broken, that she was a good mother, an amazing chef and a wonderful person. He brought her out of the darkness, and she brought him out of his. Together they held the light. They had a future. A future together.

  “Marry me.”

  Mitch stilled.

  “Marry me,” she said again.

  His mouth split into a big smile before he said, “I’m the one who’s supposed to do the asking.”

  She lifted her hips to meet his, her impatience at his sudden pause coming across in how hard she squeezed him. He started moving again but struggled to concentrate on his rhythm.

  “It’s the twenty-first century, Mitchel,” she breathed, clearly enjoying the way he’d slowed right down and languidly slid across her slick channel. “We’re raising women. Get with the times. Besides, I’m not asking.” She squeezed her muscles around him again, and something primal flashed behind her eyes. Neither of them was going to last long. “Marry me.”

  Her strength. It was one of the things he loved most about her.

  Even when she appeared to be circling the drain, at her lowest, there was a hidden strength inside her that was unparalleled. She was the epitome of what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. Paige was the strongest woman he knew.

  “Mitch … ” Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, and she pulled his mouth down to hers, tracing his lips with her tongue. “I want to be your wife.”

  A groan rumbled at the back of his throat as he supported himself on one elbow and leaned over to his nightstand. He was determined to stay inside her, so it took a bit of effort, but he got the drawer open.

  “We don’t need a condom,” she said, impatience thick in her tone. “And you still haven’t answered me.”

  He found what he was looking for and grabbed it, shut the drawer and returned to her. “What’s a proposal without a ring?” he asked, opening the box with as much finesse as he could muster given how close he was to an orgasm and that he was trying to balance on one elbow.

  Now it was her turn for her mouth to drop open.

  “This was not how I’d planned to give it to you, but you have a way of surprising me.”

  Tears welled up in her beautiful brown eyes.

  “Yes,” he said softly, pressing a light kiss to her lips. “Yes, I will marry you.” Then he took her hand from around his neck and released the cushion-cut diamond solitaire from its velvet bed and slid it onto her finger.

  Just like Mitch inside Paige, the ring fit perfectly.

  “I love you,” she said, holding the ring out beside his head to get a better look.

  “And I love you.”

  Then he took her mouth, took her body and together they came undone, with nothing between them ever again.

  Living with the Single Dad - Sneak Peek

  Single Dads of Seattle Book 4

  Chapter 1

  His feet were made of fucking concrete.

  His heart the same.

  People visiting babies in the NICU shouldn’t have to pay for fucking parking. They shouldn’t have to pay for squat. A human that weighed less than a fucking house cat was fighting for her life in a plastic box, hooked up to only God knows how many electrodes and monitors, and they were charging him to go and see her. They would also charge him to keep her there, to keep her alive.

  And if he couldn’t pay?

  Would they pull the plug on a one-month old?

  This country was so fucked up.

  Pay to live. Pay to be kept alive.

  Hippocratic oath his fucking left nut.

  You were only worth saving if you could afford it.

  Thank Christ he could pay.

  Dina made good money as a lawyer. She’d made sure Sophie would want for nothing.

  Except her mother.

  She’d want her mother.

  She’d need her mother.

  Fuck.

  Aaron needed his sister.

  Grief ensnared him, digging its razor-sharp claws into every cell of his body and shaking him like a ragdoll. He pounded his fists on the steering wheel, hollering at the top of his lungs until tears rolled his cheeks and his throat was raw.

  How?

  How could this have happened?

  He’d spoken to Dina on the phone not tw
o days ago. He was on his way back from a wedding in the South Pacific and couldn’t wait to go see Sophie. Dina said that they were getting ready to take her off the ventilators and that if her glucose stayed steady and she could breathe on her own then they might be able to bring her home soon.

  Home.

  To Dina’s condo.

  To the nursery his sister had spent hours decorating. Where the crib he’d built for his niece sat waiting for her to sleep in.

  The home his sister had created for a child she’d longed for her entire life, and then finally decided to go it alone when she knew her clock was ticking and she hadn’t found the right man yet.

  They were going to raise Sophie together.

  She would be the mother. The world’s best mother, and he would the cool uncle who spoiled his niece rotten. He would be the one to buy her her first tutu, her first horseback riding lessons, her first phone, her first car. He’d also be the tattooed muscle at the front door to intimidate the shit out of any boy that tried to mess with his precious Sophie.

  From the first moment he laid eyes on her after Dina had her, he’d fallen in love and had vowed to protect her with everything that he was, everything that he had. He would gladly lay down his life for his niece.

  He’d also said all that when he knew Dina would be doing the majority of the child raising. When he knew she’d be doing all the hard stuff, like diapers and discipline.

  But now, he was all Sophie had.

  He was her everything. Mother, father. Uncle, aunt.

  There was no cool uncle status anymore. Just the overwhelming responsibility of being everything she needed.

  Sophie wouldn’t be running to him when her mother brought down the hammer, pissed her off and she needed somebody to talk to. Now he was going to have to be the one to bring down the hammer. Who would she run to?

  Two days.

  Two days ago his sister had been alive. She’d been happy, madly in love with her daughter and both excited and scared to embark on her new role as a mom.

  “Give her a kiss for me,” Aaron had said, as he stood in line with his boarding pass in his hand. He’d been out of town for ten days his buddy Rob’s wedding in French Polynesia and was just heading back to the States. “I can’t wait to see how much she’s grown and changed.”