My mind is hazy as I try to get my bearings.
Closing my eyes in mortification at what had happened last night, I wondered when I had become so brazen.
The way I had approached Steven.
When did I even begin calling him Steven?
My eyes flutter open. He had given me an out. He had been so careful with me at first, and then he went wild. He helped me explore my body in a way I had never been able to.
“If you’re regretting what happened, it’s too late to turn back,” Came a sleepy male voice, and I turn around in Steven’s arms, only to be dragged half way.
Sprawled over his chest, I blink at him.
His gray eyes were still sleepy but he wears a satisfied smile on his lips.
“What?” I ask, my voice slightly hoarse from all the screaming last night.
His smile grows into a cocky smirk, “Something wrong with your voice?”
“Are you always this arrogant?” I ask him, not even annoyed. It was like all the temper and anger and annoyance had been fucked right out of me, last night.
He leans over to kiss me on my jaw, “Only when I’ve had some of the best sex of my life.”
He pretends to think, “If I recall correctly, you seemed to like it too. What was it that you said? F- “
I clasp a hand over his mouth, my cheeks red, “Stop it!”
He licks the palm of my hand and I make a face, “Ew!”
Roaring with laughter at my childish expression, he flips me underneath him.
Pressing kisses on my lips and nose, he licks my cheek, finding it hilarious when I try to push him off.
“I did more than lick you, last night, Abby,” He laughs.
This time when he nears my face, I sink my teeth in his shoulder, making him roll over to safety, eyeing me with laughter in his eyes, “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”
I snap my teeth at him, “I’ll bite you if you lick me again!”
Seeing the interest spark in his eyes, I groan, a sound of both amusement and exasperation.
I had expected an awkward next morning, mostly on my part, but as I watch Steven put on a soft cashmere pullover over his jeans, I feel my heart cave a little bit.
This man couldn’t be this perfect, could he?
“Dad! Jarvis says we can have pancakes for breakfast if we don’t make a mess in the kitchen.”
The door opens to a sleepy-eyed Aaron in his pyjamas.
He stares at me and then rubs his eyes, and then stares some more.
The delight in his eyes was unmistakeable, “Miss Abby?”
I wave my fingers at him, a little awkwardly, “Hi!”
He rushes over to me, “Are you having breakfast with us?”
He couldn’t stop jumping with excitement, “Do you want to help us make pancakes?!”
I stare helplessly at Steven who waggles his eyebrows at me.
And just like that I find myself in the kitchen, wearing a T-shirt that was far too baggy for me and boxers that I had to tighten around my waist with a bowstring, making chocolate-chip pancakes.
“You’re doing it wrong!” I snatch the bowl from Steven who was whipping the batter like it was a life and death situation.
“Hey!” He growls at me, offended.
I roll my eyes at him, “It’s pancake batter, not the kid who stole your pencil in grade school.”
Aaron stood on a stool, whisking the eggs, holding the bowl to his chest as he tries not to spill any, “Am I doing it right, Abby?”
I let him call me Abby, since it was weird to hear him call me Miss Abby while I was in his home.
“That’s great!” I ruffle his hair. “You keep whipping those eggs for one more minute.”
I eye Steven warily, “You can use a stove, can’t you?”
He scoffs at me, “In my sleep.”
Aaron looks up, confused, “I thought Jarvis said you weren’t allowed near the stove because you bl-“
His father put his hand over his mouth, glaring at him, “Not another word.”
I shrug, eyeing the storm still raging outside, and let Steven heat the stove.
The pancakes turn out a little too done, at least the first few. After the first batch, I nudge Steven aside with my hip and take over.
It was half an hour later that we sat down for breakfast. I watch both father and son devour the eggs and pancakes.
“Slow down, Aaron. You’ll choke!” I thump the boy on his back when he swallows too fast and started coughing. “Your food is not going anywhere.”
Aaron gives me a worshipful look, “Can you cook breakfast for us, everyday?”
I find myself laughing at the innocent request, wiping his face with a napkin, “Just finish your breakfast.”
“This is amazing, Abby,” Steven smiles at me, and I couldn’t help but blush.
He seems much more relaxed and I was seeing a whole different side of him. Seeing him in a more family environment, out of his suits, just made him more real, and I could see myself falling for this man.
I frown down at my pancakes.
I needed to hold back my feelings. He cares for me, but that doesn’t mean he was ready for any sort of relationship.
“What are you thinking?” I feel Steven’s foot brush against mine, and I look up, shaking my head.
“Sorry, just lost in my own thoughts. It’s nothing important.”
I ignore his strange look and turn my attention to Aaron who was staring at the glass of milk.
“Do I have to drink that?”
I put out my hand as if attempting to measure him, and then sigh, “Well, if you want to be as tall as your father, I think you have to drink at least one glass of milk a day.”
I lean back in my seat, and shrug, “But if you want to remain short, I still think you look cute and cuddly.”
Aaron makes a face, “I don’t want to be cute and cuddly. I want to be big and scary, like Dad!”
I snort at Steven being described as scary and let out a startled sound when I feel Steven’s hand smack my ass.
I glare at him, and he gives me an amiable smile, before turning his attention to his son, and suggesting, “Then finish the milk.”
Aaron gives me a pleading look and I just mouth the word ‘cute’ to him.
He lets out a heavy sigh, the way only children can do, and proceeds to gulping down the contents of the glass.
Jumping down from his seat, he runs into the other room, leaving me and his father behind, and I hiss at him, “Did you have to do that while your son was still here?”
“I am scary,” He informs me.
I roll my eyes at him, “Oh, yeah. You slapped my butt. You certainly proved your point.”
Instead of taking the bait, the edge of his lips curl in an almost smirk, “Let’s see whether you have the same attitude when I spank you in bed.”
My lower abdomen clenches in anticipation and my cheeks heat up.
“You’re incorrigible,” I mutter.
He drags me out of my chair till I am standing between his legs. His hands are huge as they encompass my whole waist.
He grins up at me, “I got you in my bed, didn’t I? I plan to keep you there.”
I try not to read too much into the statement, and let him drag me closer, musing, “So, you plan to make me into a sex addict?”
Steven tucks his tongue in his cheek, “If the shoe fits.”
There is something so charming about his playfulness that it makes me soften.
We both glance outside at the blizzard and I make a small sound of distress, “I didn’t even tell Scarlett where I went. She must be so worried.”
When I try to move away to look for my purse, Steven wouldn’t let me budge, “She called you after you went to sleep, and I told her that you were with me.”
I narrow my eyes at him, “Is that all she said?”
He shrugs, “She also threatened to disembowel me if I upset you in any way and demanded that I feed you and tuck you in a safe war
m place till this blizzard passes.”
“That’s very specific,” I shake my head. “She means well.”
“I could tell,” Steven says, mildly. “Especially when she decided to go into explicit detail about how she planned to disembowel me. If nothing, your friend is very creative.”
I bite my tongue to swallow my laughter, “She works in a publishing house. She’s an Editor. She’s also penned a few murder mysteries under her name. I would suggest you heed her warnings.”
“Dad!” Aaron rushes into the room. “Jarvis says that all schools are closed till further notice, and offices. You get to stay at home with me!”
I slip out from Steven’s hold and make my way to the living room which houses a massive flat-screen TV.
“…a massive snowstorm…Schools have been shut down, probably till Christmas, if this weather continues. Residents are advised to stay indoors…Bridges have been closed off…Emergency services are on alert…If you are in a situation….”
“How am I supposed to get home?” I ask, my heart in my mouth.
I feel Steven’s hand settle on my hip, as he stares at the reporter on the screen, “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I have no clothes, here! All my stuff is back home.”
“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing now?” He frowns down at me. “You look gorgeous.”
I blink at the compliment, blushing, “Uh, thank you. But I can’t spend the next few days roaming around your house in your clothes.”
Steven shrugs and drags me closer, “Of course, you can. It’s just Aaron and me here. You’ll hardly see anyone else. Jarvis and the staff reside in the east wing. They won’t bother you.”
I run my fingers nervously through my hair, muttering, “Easy for you to say.”
A tug at my hand makes me look down at Aaron who looks like Christmas had come early for him, “Are you spending Christmas with us, Miss Abby? Does that mean you’ll go to Hawaii with us?”
“Huh?” I look to Steven for an explanation. “Hawaii?”
He put his hands in his pockets, “Yeah, we go to Hawaii for Christmas. The weather is nice. And all the staff gets a vacation. It’s a win-win.”
I take a step back, “Christmas is about snow, and family, and Christmas trees. Where do you get a Christmas tree in Hawaii?”
“We don’t have a Christmas tree. We go to the beach and I take Aaron to amusement parks. And then we have a nice Christmas dinner.”
I gape at them, and ask slowly, “Are you telling me you’ve never had a Christmas tree and decorated it? That you’ve never done the whole hanging up stockings and the presents under the tree?”
Aaron’s eyes widen, “You mean the one on TV? Dad said that wasn’t real!”
“Did he now?” I glare at Steven, who mutters, “It’s a lot of work for two people.”
I stare at him, unblinking, “I would hate to spend Christmas in Hawaii.”
Aaron pulls at his father’s shirt, his eyes gleaming, “Can we have a Christmas tree this year, Dad? Can we?”
When Steven gives me an annoyed look, I raise a brow, “It’s not like you can fly to Hawaii in this weather. All the planes are going to be grounded for as long as this blizzard rages on, anyway.”
“Dad?” Aaron looks up, his eyes pleading.
Steven relents, “We can get a tree.”
However, I see a flash of annoyance on his face as he walks out of the room. I wonder whether I crossed a line, or there was something else about the idea of Christmas that he wasn’t on board with.
Chapter 14
“Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” I ask Scarlett.
“It’s only a few days. Besides, I have a friend staying over, so I’m good,” Scarlett reassures me.
I hear a male voice in the background before she hastily cuts the line, and I wonder who it was.
Staring at my cell phone, I wonder who that could be.
I really hoped it wasn’t Collin.
Stuffing my phone in my bag, I get up and start looking for Steven.
I felt a little uneasy about my words from this morning. Christmas was a family matter and I shouldn’t have interfered. I crossed a line and I wanted to make amends.
However, the house was so big that I ended up wandering the hallways.
“Can I help you, Miss?”
I blink at Jarvis who smiles at me.
“I – I was looking for Steven.” I stammer out, a little taken aback at his sudden appearance.
Jarvis glances at his watch, “He would be in his office, right now. Would you like me to take you to him?”
I shuffle my feet, “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all. Follow me.”
He leads me up another flight of stairs to a carpeted hallway that seems familiar. I remember passing it by last night.
He gestures toward a heavy oak door, “You’ll find Master Tanner inside.”
I watch him leave, before hesitantly knocking on the door, and peering inside.
Steven was sitting behind a huge desk that seemed mighty expensive, in an arm chair that looked like it had been made just for him.
He was on the telephone, and I wondered why he would have that. It just seemed so old fashioned. But this man continuously surprises me.
He looks up and I see a hint of surprise and pleasure flash through his eyes as he waves me in.
I close the door behind me and lean against it, studying the interior of the room.
It looks like one of those old-fashion offices that you would find in the magazines of the fifties, that belonged to the wealthiest aristocrats.
But then, Steven’s dressing style fits right in here. That long trench coat, that impeccable suit without a single wrinkle.
The room is also carpeted, and my shoes made no sound as I make my way to him.
He pats his leg, raising a brow when I make a face and chose to lean against the desk, instead.
However, the one thing that I observed was that Steven liked to have his way, and he always preferred to have me on his lap.
Not a minute later, I was on his lap, one of his arms around my waist like a steel band, restraining me.
I sigh.
He seemed to be on an important call, so I didn’t bother him, instead running my hands over the smooth surface of his desk, my mind pondering over this man.
He had shown me different sides of his personality within these past three weeks. From angry, to patient, to protective, to playful. Even now, as I sit here, I have no idea what I am doing.
There is no plan I could follow, nothing that could prepare me for what could happen.
My mind has been in shambles and it was only his presence that has driven out all the demons. My decision to sleep with him had been a reckless one, but there was no taking it back. He was so affectionate and playful, all the while maintaining a certain wall of aloofness that I couldn’t quite break through.
I cover his hand with mine, and turn it over, studying the callouses that were evidence of hard physical labour.
Where did he get these from, I wonder.
And what was this thing between us?
Would we part ways once he realizes we had absolutely nothing in common?
Would we still remain friends?
Would this man break through the barriers I have erected around my heart? Because I could sense a crack every now and then, when he would play with his son in the kitchen or plant a kiss on my cheek.
Feeling him tug at my shirt, I feel the T-shirt give way as he plants a kiss on my bare shoulder.
I look over my shoulder to see him listening intently to the person on the other end, and duck when he tries to kiss my shoulder again.
I see his eyes gleam with the challenge and the next few minutes are spent trying to avoid his flirty kisses.
I didn’t even realize when he put the call on speaker because I was suddenly distracted by the sound of the door locking.
My eyes only had t
ime to see him removing his hand from under the desk, where there must have been an automatic locking system, before I was knelt over the desk.
“Wh-“
Steven clasps his hand over my mouth to stop me, as a man’s voice filled the room, citing numbers.
My eyes widen when I feel him loosen the bowstring tying the boxers around my waist, and I felt the dismal piece of cloth fall around my feet.
He was standing now, one hand on the small of my back, holding me down, the other moving lower.
When did he remove his hand from my mouth?
I felt him slide off my panties quickly, and my cheeks heat up.
“Steven, I really don’t-“
My whisper was cut short, when he leans over and murmurs, “Not a word. You don’t want him to hear you, do you?”
I purse my lips shut and scowl at him.
I felt my pussy clench at the strength of his hand as he held me down and felt his right hand move lower to explore my nether regions.
Which were dripping.
My eyes fell on the full-length mirror across from us, a few inches from the door, next to a chair with a shirt thrown over it.
I could see myself sprawled on the desk, one hand holding on to the front edge for dear life and the other on my mouth to stop any sounds from escaping as Steven moved his fingers inside my wet pussy with slow deliberation, his eyes fixed on mine, a smirk on his face.
“…the Calfex report. But if the numbers are correct, there will be a flux of sales…”
The man was still talking, and I let out a muffled moan as Steven’s fingers move inside me, in a slow rhythmic movement.
“What about the one in the New York? I thought I told you to have the report on my desk yesterday morning?”
Hearing the sharp authority in Steven’s voice as he disciplines the man on the phone, while he fucks me over his desk with his fingers, makes my clit pulsate, and my fingers tighten on the edge.
I had been in his bed once and it seems it had resulted in me having no self-control left when it came to this man’s hands.
Because I wasn’t stopping him.
Because I didn’t want to stop him.
My eyes nearly roll to the back of my head as I feel those thick and long fingers rub against every crevice of my passage as he moves them in and out, slowly increasing the speed. I didn’t realize when I started pushing back, trying to reach my orgasm.
Wintertime Heat: A Christmas Single Dad Romance Page 8