Christmas with the Single Dad (The Single Dads of Seattle Book 5) Read online

  “That’s right, Rory. So fucking … so fucking hot. Good girl.” He pumped one, two, three more times, then tossed his head back, fisted her messy bun and let go.

  Warm, salty semen squirted down the back of her throat in thick, ropey spurts. She swallowed as fast and as much as she could, taking everything he gave her and wishing he had more.

  Her dream, her fantasy was finally becoming a reality, and even if it was just for this one night, she was going to enjoy every single second of Zak.

  Once he knew his balls were empty, he slowly slipped from Aurora’s mouth.

  He’d squeezed his eyes shut but figured now was probably a good time to look at her, and, fuck him, the smile that she gave him back. Holy fucking shit.

  Never in his life had he met a woman who looked that happy after giving a blow job. Never. Her smile was electric, her eyes bright, her cheeks flushed. She looked so incredibly fuckable, he prayed he had condoms in his nightstand and that they hadn’t expired. He also prayed that he’d be able to get it up again soon.

  It’d been a while since he’d been with anybody besides his fist in the shower, and that was only to help him sleep.

  Where the hell had this woman come from?

  And she’d wanted him for six months to boot. Did they even make women like her anymore?

  Apparently, they did. He’d just had to weed through a few harpies to find the goddess.

  He was still cupping her jaw, something he liked to do when getting head. Control their head, their mouths, their lips. Feel them swallow as he came hard down their throats.

  But Aurora hadn’t balked at all. She seemed to like him taking the control, seemed to like his hand on her jaw, his thumb on her lip.

  He traced that thumb over her bottom lip again before hauling her up to her feet and crushing his mouth against hers.

  She welcomed him, opened for him, tangoed her tongue with his.

  His hands fell to the hem of her T-shirt, and he made quick work of pulling it over her head, only breaking their kiss for a moment. But the moment was long enough to see she had incredible tits. Big tits. Like more than a handful. The perfect size tits for sliding his dick between so he could titty-fuck her into next Tuesday.

  And those raspberry nipples and dusky puckered areolas … He pulled his mouth from her lips once again and dipped his head, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard until he felt the skin around it grow taut in arousal.

  A moan in the depths of her throat had him using his other hand to push down the waist of her pants, past—oh fuck, she was hairless—until he found slick, silky folds. Her clit was already swollen, and her panties damp. Oh, fuck yeah.

  Gently, he guided her back to the bed, taking her pants and panties down with him.

  She watched him with eyelids at half-mast and her lip between her teeth. He leaned forward and tugged her lip out. “That’s my lip, got it?”

  She nodded.

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  “Your lip.”

  “That’s right. Only I get to bite it.”

  “Only you get to bite it.”

  “Good girl.” He smiled, his eyes climbing along her body, appreciating every inch, every freckle. She was fit but still soft. He liked that.

  Healthy curves, womanly curves, but she still took care of herself.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered, taking her hand from the bed and placing it between her legs. “Show me what you like.”

  Her eyes grew wide and avid as she nodded again, spread her pussy lips and began to flick her bean.

  The inner lips of her pussy were a gorgeous, glistening pink, and it took everything inside him not to sink onto his belly and bury his face up to his ears in her cleft, let all her juices cover his face, coat his tongue and slide down his throat.

  His cock jerked, and his balls tightened.

  He really needed to check the condom box, make sure there were a few in there that still had some life to them. But he couldn’t peel his eyes from the beauty on his bed who currently had her eyes closed, her lip back between her teeth and her fingers going around and around on her clit.

  It was an absolutely magnificent sight to behold.

  “You want some help?” he asked, needing to taste her, to feel her come around his fingers and across his lips.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she nodded. “Yes, please.”

  Please.

  Such a good girl.

  Grinning, he slid down onto his belly and shouldered her knees apart. He didn’t want her to stop her efforts on her clit. No, he wanted them to work together. Get her there together. They had the rest of night for him to take her on his own, show her just what his tongue was capable of.

  He explored her slippery slit with two fingers, pushing them inside her just enough but then pulling them out and meandering around her folds, the nub of her clit and her perineum.

  Was she into ass play?

  Was tonight too soon to ask?

  Was tonight all they had?

  He hadn’t been with anybody in a while, and now that he’d broken his dry spell—and with a woman as enigmatic as Aurora—he wanted to go crazy.

  She writhed on the bed beneath his fingers and hers, her head thrashing from side to side. He placed his mouth over her just as a warm gush of liquid spilled across his tongue. He lapped it up. Drank her sweetness down, then slipped his tongue into her tight channel and demanded she give him more.

  She pressed her cleft against his face, her fingers picking up speed as she continued to squirm. Her hips leapt off the mattress, and his nose knocked her fingers. He removed his tongue from her and replaced it with his fingers once again, enjoying the way she squeezed her muscles around him, drawing him in, encouraging him to go deeper. His tongue lazily laved at her dripping pussy lips, making its way north. He sucked and licked on her fingers as they worked her clit, pushing his tongue between her fingers to flick her clit, tasting her flavor on her digits.

  A moan from above was all the response he needed to know that she liked what he was doing.

  He raked his chin up between her legs, letting the scruff of his close-shaved beard tickle her sensitive labia. He pushed her fingers away from her clit and worked his chin over it, back and forth, then around and around.

  “Oh God!” She pushed her mound harder against his face. “Do that again.”

  He complied, continuing to plunge his fingers in and out of her while raking his beard across her slippery slit.

  “Fuck, yes.”

  Fuck, yes was right.

  Her hip jerks grew erratic, and more honey spilled across his fingers. She was close.

  He removed his chin and sucked hard on her clit.

  Her back arched, her hips shot off the bed higher than ever, and then she collapsed to the mattress, chest heaving, fingers bunched in the duvet, pussy rippling and pulsing around him.

  Once her tremors subsided, he slid off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. He quickly washed his face, not that he really cared whether or not her juices coated him for the rest of the night, but some women cared.

  When he returned to the bedroom, she had pulled her T-shirt, underwear and pants back on and was sitting flush-faced and gorgeous on the edge of the bed. He grabbed his boxer briefs off the floor and tugged them on, then pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a Henley.

  He was already sporting another stiffy and was surprised to find her dressed.

  She glanced up at him with a look that caused all kinds of weird emotions to bubble up inside him.

  He sat down next to her on the bed. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “More than okay.”

  Well, that was good.

  Her stomach growled, then his growled in response.

  He linked his fingers with hers. “Come on. Let’s go have something to eat, and we can get to know each other.” He tugged her up off the bed with him. “I must say, this is shaping up to be one hell of a snowy adventure,” he said with a chuckle as h
e kept his hand clasped with hers and went ahead of her down the stairs. “Never saw that coming.”

  “You should see what we do in my dreams,” she murmured behind him.

  Zak missed a step, and before he knew it, he had let go of her hand and was falling down the stairs.

  He landed at the bottom on his ass only to see her standing where he’d left her, her eyes wide and mouth open in shock. “You okay?”

  He blinked up at her and rubbed the sore spot on his ass. “Just swept off my feet is all.”

  5

  “I don’t normally drink during the week,” Zak said, the cords in his neck standing out in a sexy way as he heaved on the cork, opening up a bottle of wine. He poured them each a glass and slid hers across the quartz countertop toward her. “But I think I’m willing to make an exception.”

  She picked up her wineglass and held it to her nose. It was a deep, dark red, and it smelled incredible. Several tiers up from the supermarket boxed wine or the Trader Joe’s buck-fifty special she bought herself from time to time. Not that she drank much, because booze was a luxury she just couldn’t afford. Not when there was heat and Wi-Fi she needed to pay for first. Electricity was an important one too.

  He lifted his glass up. “To … ”

  Stalkers finally getting what they want?

  Dreams becoming reality?

  Christmas miracles?

  Mother Nature finally throwing me a bone?

  “To snowflakes and shoddy engines,” he finally said, a big, sexy grin slowly sliding across his talented lips.

  A smile of her own broke out on her heated face. “To snowflakes and shoddy engines.”

  He clinked his wineglass against hers, then they both took a sip, their eyes locking over the rims of their glasses.

  “I’ve never liked snow so much in my life,” she said after she swallowed down the incredible wine. “Or been appreciative of crappy cars. Things are finally looking up.”

  He pulled the casserole dish from the oven after donning oven mitts and then began to dish up their meal. It smelled incredible.

  A man who could cook?

  She hadn’t met one of those in a long time.

  “You need a new car. Surely, the law firm you work for pays you well enough that you can afford some new wheels. Even new tires, if you can’t afford an entire new vehicle.”

  Not on a first-year associate’s salary they don’t.

  “Yeah, one day I’ll come up with the cash to replace it,” she said blandly. “Student loans really take a chunk out of the paycheck, though.”

  He lifted one well-defined shoulder. “I get it. My brother was up to his eyeballs in those too for the longest time. At least get some winter tires when you can afford it.”

  She glanced up at him, her jaw tight, ready to fight, but what looked back at her instantly eased her out of defense mode. He didn’t look at her with any kind of pity, just understanding.

  “Had a clunker myself for a while. As long as it runs, I used to say. But then I had kids, and I couldn’t bring myself to install a car seat into that death trap, so I sold it to a scrap yard, charmed the ass off the lady at the bank for a loan and bought my first safe vehicle.”

  She made a noise in her throat, her stomach rumbling at the same time.

  He placed a plate in front of her. Rich aromas—basil and garlic, parmesan and roasted veggies—filled her nostrils. Moisture flooded her mouth.

  Zak reached into a drawer, pulled out cutlery, grabbed a napkin from another drawer and folded it. Then he placed the knife and fork on the little triangle and slid it across the counter to her, settling it next to her plate.

  “Such a gentleman,” she said, climbing onto the bar stool.

  He grabbed the other full plate and wandered around behind her. “Not in the bedroom I’m not,” he purred, his breath tickling the nape of her neck as he leaned in next to her ear. The warmth from his body at her back made every muscle inside her tighten and every hair on her arms tingle.

  But she needed to play it cool. She needed to calm down and cool off. She took another sip of her wine and smiled at him over the rim of her glass. “I noticed.”

  His grin was huge and sinful. “So,” he started, diving into what appeared to be a delicious-looking chicken breast and roasted veggies in an aromatic pesto sauce, “tell me about yourself.”

  Aurora set her wineglass down and lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Not much to tell, really. I work all the time. I’m from New Hampshire. Went to law school here in Washington. My goldfish just died, and I’m pretty sure I killed my cactus.”

  He cut into his chicken, that sexy smile still on his face. “Ah, so you’re a murderer?”

  “More like negligent pet and plant owner. But yes, I suppose you could say my demanding work life inevitably caused me to kill the only pet I’ve ever had and a plant that is supposed to be resilient to drought.”

  He grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “That’s because you’re this super-sexy high-powered attorney, right? Saving the world one lawsuit at a time? Putting away the bad guys. Taking down the corporate demons in their ivory towers.” His eyebrows bobbed salaciously as he planted another kiss to her knuckles before releasing her hand. Desire rolled through her in big, lazy waves, enveloping every cell in her body until they all burned hot for the man whose big, muscular thigh was currently touching hers.

  “Something like that,” she murmured. “Too busy burning the midnight oil to care for a damn cactus.”

  “You’re a fourth-year associate, you said?”

  “I’m an associate, yeah.”

  Oh, fuck, why couldn’t she just tell him the truth? That she was like tenth or twelfth pick in the draft. That she’d started off law school strong but petered out midway, eventually scraping by, by the skin of her teeth, and just barely passing the bar.

  Not that she didn’t have good reason for being distracted during school. Hell, she was more than just distracted. She was grieving. She was furious. She was broken.

  Her parents tried to convince her to take a leave of absence from school or transfer to a law school closer to home, but she needed the space. She needed the distance. If she’d stayed in New Hampshire, she would be forced to drive past the lake daily, constantly reminded of what she lost—of who she lost.

  So she packed her bags, put her head down and flew back to Washington after the funeral, resuming her third and final year of law school, only to barely make it through because she just couldn’t get her head in the game.

  The only reason she’d been hired at Wallace, Dixon and Travers in the first place was because Dina Steele, a senior partner, had taken pity on her after Aurora had broken down in her interview and told the woman her entire story. Dina was a no-nonsense woman but also a fair woman and had offered Aurora the job with the caveat that Aurora join a gym and start seeing a counselor to work through her issues.

  Hence, why she started at Club Z.

  She saw her counselor once a month, because that was all her benefits allowed. Once she was with the company for a year, she could afford a better medical plan and hopefully start seeing her therapist a bit more often.

  She closed her eyes and summoned a deep breath, holding it in, then looked blindly skyward.

  Yeah, Dina Steele had saved Aurora’s ass. She’d saved her law career. She’d saved her life.

  May God rest her soul.

  The poor woman had been killed in a mall mass shooting in August, and the whole law firm was still trying to make sense of it all. Make sense of their loss—because losing Dina had been like losing a limb, losing a chunk of their heart, for all of them. She had run the firm with an iron first encased in marshmallow. She was tough, but she was kind, and everyone at the firm loved her.

  And now her mentor, her savior, the person she went to for all her work—and life—problems, was gone. Taken too soon by such a senseless and malicious act of hate.

  Her heart stuttered, an
d then there was this falling, spinning-down feeling. She clutched the edge of the counter with both hands and blinked back the harsh sting of tears.

  God, she missed Dina. Life had ceased to make sense after she’d walked into work on that Monday after the shooting, only to find every one of her co-workers bawling their eyes out.

  A throat clearing next to her drew her out of her thoughts. Her shoulder was nudged. “Where’d you go just now?” Zak’s voice was like pure melted chocolate. Deep and thick and with just the smallest hint of a twang. A finger landed under her chin, and he turned her face to his. “Everything okay? You’re not having second thoughts about upstairs, are you?” With his other hand, he reached over and ran his finger beneath her eye, clearing away the tear before it even had a chance to fall. “Hmm?”

  His big, warm palm cupped her cheek. She leaned into his gentle embrace and closed her eyes. She was tired. Tired of the day, of the week, of the month, of the year. Tired of never getting ahead, tired of constantly feeling like she was treading water with a weight belt on. Tired of losing people she loved.

  “I’m tired,” she finally breathed, her eyes still shut, her breathing now ragged and her body growing hot. “Even when I’m not at work, my brain can’t seem to leave the job. I can’t remember the last time it really, truly shut down.”

  His thumb caressed her cheek, sending warm coils of need spiraling through her. “I can see that. We’ll eat and then go to bed.” He released her face, and they both turned back to their meals. “Up to you which bed you’d like to sleep in.”

  She glanced at him sideways, a small smile curling up her mouth as she picked up her fork and knife and dug into her meal. “Your bed seemed pretty comfy. Is that a king?”

  His nose wrinkled as he dove into his own chicken and vegetables. “California king, baby, and it’s hella comfy. Great for sleeping … fantastic for other things as well.”

  She took a bite of broccoli and began to chew, loving how his smile and joking tone eased the ache in her heart and made her want to laugh. She needed more laughter in her life, needed more happiness, more nights like this spent with a good man drinking wine and eating dinner as they enjoyed each other’s company.