by Whitley Cox
Why couldn’t every morning start out that way?
“So, Miss … ” Zak paused with an egg carton in his hand. “Shit, I don’t even know your last name.” He ran his free hand through his hair and then scrubbed it over his rust-colored beard. “I feel like a real ass now.”
“A real ass with a fine ass,” she quipped. “You’re forgiven.”
His smile made her insides liquefy.
“Besides, I don’t know yours either.”
“Eastwood.”
She rolled it around on her tongue. “Zak Eastwood.”
It suited him.
“Zachary Ryan Eastwood, to be exact. Now your turn.”
She thrust her hand out. “Aurora Leanne Stratford. Nice to meet you, Zachary Ryan Eastwood. Thank you for having me in your house and for all the sex.”
He snorted, then smiled, taking her hand and shaking it. “The pleasure was all mine.”
A big grin split her face before she released his hand, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, some of it was mine.”
“Touché.”
She kicked her legs playfully beneath the counter. “So, besides bang until the cows come home, what should we do today? Watch a movie? Read books? Bake cookies?”
He went back to work preparing breakfast—or more accurately, lunch. “Whatever you want, darlin’.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re quite the charmer. Tossing around that twang like it’s no big thang.”
He bobbed his eyebrows up and down. “Is it working? Are you charmed?”
She’d been charmed the moment she walked into the gym and spotted him. He could speak in binary code and she’d still be madly in love with him.
“I’m going to assume that you are, based on that salacious look you’re giving me right now. Down, woman. I need to feed you before I fuck you.” He chuckled as he pulled out a countertop griddle from beneath the island and plugged it in. Then he grabbed a pack of turkey bacon from the fridge and opened it. “We should bake cookies. I haven’t baked anything in years, but it seems like the Christmassy thing to do.” He wrinkled his nose and looked around himself. “Though I’m not even sure I have everything needed to bake cookies. I seriously keep a pretty healthy household. If the temptation isn’t there, then you can’t fall off the wagon, right?”
She slid off the chair and wandered around the island to stand next to him. “Where’s your baking cupboard? I’ll see what I can dig up, and then we can improvise from there if need be.”
He pointed her to the slatted pantry door beside the fridge and then went to work laying the bacon on the griddle. Aurora snatched the apron she spotted on the hook next to where Zak had grabbed his and draped it around her neck before heading to the pantry.
She had a hankering for gingerbread and hoped he had what they needed. Otherwise, they’d probably have to settle for something more basic, like shortbread. Still good, but it was no gingerbread.
She opened up the pantry door, expecting to see just a row of shelves, but was stunned when it turned out to be an entire small room. A room that was in fact bigger than the entire bathroom back in her apartment.
She stepped inside, flicked on the light and went in search of the baking necessities. Baking powder: check. Vanilla: check. Brown sugar—would coconut sugar work? Because that was all he had. It would have to do. She tucked that under her arm along with the other ingredients. Thankfully, his spice rack was decked to the nines, so she had no problem coming up with all the necessary gingerbread spices. She managed to find some whole wheat flour tucked behind the three unopened tubs of protein powder, and then finally the molasses. The ingredient that made gingerbread what it was.
Wiping her brow with the back of her wrist and reorganizing everything in her arms, she headed back out into the kitchen.
“Found what we need to make gingerbread.” She beamed, setting it all down on the counter far enough away from Zak’s workstation that she shouldn’t be in the way.
He nodded with a grin as he cracked an egg into the boiling pot of water. “Breakfast won’t be long, then we’ll get to work on the cookies.”
She walked up behind him and cupped his butt in her hands, loving how the cheeks tightened beneath her fingers, then tightened even more when she dug her nails into the hardened muscle.
“You’re playing with fire, young lady,” he joked, cracking another egg into the water. “I am not against shutting off everything right now, throwing you over my shoulder and hauling you upstairs. I’d love nothing more than to toss you over my knee and … ” His breath hitched.
She’d reached under his apron and over his boxers. She had him in her palm now.
“And what?” she purred, planting kisses across his back.
“And attach some nipple clamps to your tits and then paddle that ass of yours,” he replied, the timber of his voice rough, dark and laden with promise.
Nipple clamps? Yes, yes please!
Her pussy tightened at the thought of Zak spanking her ... of Zak punishing her.
She steadied her breathing, grateful that she was behind him and he couldn’t see her intense reaction to his suggestion. “Sounds like a great plan,” she said, releasing him and backing away. “But first make me breakfast. I’m famished.” Then she slapped his butt and skipped back around the island, loving the gleam in his eyes as he watched her.
She didn’t really recognize herself and the way she was behaving. Flirty and seductive. Aroused at the mention of being spanked and decked out with nipple clamps. But if this was who she was when she was with Zak, then she had no plans of introducing him to the real, boring Aurora that all her other boyfriends quickly grew tired of. Zak liked this Aurora. Aurora liked this Aurora, and if Zak decided he liked her enough to keep her more than just through the blizzard, then she was going to kick the old Aurora to the curb and not look back.
9
“You’re doing it wrong,” Aurora said, a giggle in her tone as she hip-checked Zak out of the way and grabbed the piping bag of icing from his hands. “You’re just adding genitalia to all the gingerbread people. You need to add faces and buttons.”
“But they’re naked,” he said, reaching for the piping bag again. “Why do they need buttons?”
She held the bag out of his reach, which was cute because she was a short little thing and he could easily snatch it from her. But he didn’t, and instead he wiped a dollop of icing off the counter and plopped it onto her nose.
Her mouth went wide in shock.
He did it again, this time getting her cheek.
Using the bag, she squirted a bunch of frosting onto his naked arm, then the hollow of his throat.
Before he knew it, they were having an icing fight, him with the bowl of icing, spatula and his fingers and her with the piping bag.
She squealed and giggled as he continued to try to get her face. Her apron shifted, pulling her tank top with it and a nipple peeked around the edge. He scooped a tablespoon or more of white icing onto his index finger and smeared it on her nipple.
She gasped, then crooned, her eyelids immediately dropping to half-mast.
She reached behind her neck and pulled the apron over her head.
Zak smeared more icing all over her chest, then bent his head and licked it off, pulling her breasts free over the top of her tank top. The sugar rush combined with Aurora made him heady and clouded his brain.
The woman had cast a spell on him.
“We should go wash up,” she said, leaning her elbows on the counter and lifting her head toward the ceiling, pushing her breast against his face.
He cupped the other breast, then moved his mouth to that nipple, giving it the same devotion as its twin. “You go start the Jacuzzi tub. I’ll clean up here and bring up some wine,” he said, not releasing her tight nub, but rather sucking it farther into his mouth until her sharp inhale and drifting hand down between his legs made him bite down.
He’d love to make her come solely from breast
and nipple stimulation. He bet she could do it. If anybody could, it would be Aurora. She was so sensitive, so responsive.
He pulled his mouth from her, her whimper of reluctance making his cock jerk beneath his apron. “Go.” He spun her around and slapped her butt, loving the way it jiggled as she skipped and squealed off toward the staircase.
She paused on the bottom step, her hand on the rail. “You’re a bit of a kinky fucker, aren’t you?” she asked, no judgment in her tone, just open curiosity.
His mouth slid up into a sly grin. “Not much I won’t do, if that’s what you’re asking. As long as everyone is a consenting adult, I’m game.” He pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “I don’t do dudes, though. I think the penis is fucking ugly.”
She tossed her head back and whooped out a laugh, her long, blonde hair falling down her back. “I dunno about that. I’ve seen a pretty handsome one recently, nothing to complain about.”
He grinned back at her, stepped away from the island, lifted his apron and pulled down his boxers, flashing her the hard penis she was speaking about.
“Oh, I don’t mean that one.”
Zak’s face fell, and he dropped the apron.
Aurora’s laugh became even louder, making her whole body shake. “I’d like to know all the depraved things you’ve done,” she said, running her tongue over her bottom lip.
“Should we play Never have I ever?” he asked. “Take a drink for each thing you’ve done.”
Her eyes widened along with her smile. “Sounds like a plan.” She began to climb the stairs. “Though something tells me you’re going to be drunk mighty fast, my friend.” Then she disappeared up the stairs, laughing.
The tub was full, complete with bubbles and a few candles Aurora had found in one of the bathroom cabinets. She really hoped that Zak hadn’t used those with his ex-wife way back when, but she also didn’t want to think about it for very long, so she lit them and then pushed the other thought out of her mind.
Wrapped up in nothing but a big, fluffy towel, she was just about to head back downstairs to check on her gingerbread muscle man when the doorbell chimed.
Who in the what now?
She glanced outside the bathroom window. It was growing dark, but it had also stopped snowing. Had the plow finally come through? Was she going to have to head home?
She switched rooms and pulled back the drapes in her room—the room she’d never used—and saw a big, dark green diesel truck parked in the driveway. It looked as though the snow plow had gone through, but there was more snow on top of the roads. It’d gone through a while ago while it was still coming down.
But who was at the door?
She raced back into Zak’s bedroom, ripped off the towel, grabbed his shirt off the floor and threw it over her head before she found her yoga pants on a nearby chair and pulled those onto her legs. Once she was covered, she crept to the top of the stairs, her ears practically aching from how hard she was straining to listen.
But there wasn’t a peep.
Carefully, she tiptoed down a few stairs, then a few more, until she was finally at the bottom. She kept herself hidden though.
“It was your turn to have them anyway,” a female voice said with enough impatience in the tone, Aurora could feel it all the way in the stairwell. “Craig’s friend has a cabin on Mount Baker. Craig usually goes for Christmas and New Year’s, but because it’s our first Christmas as a family, he wanted to take the kids to Disneyland.”
“You’re not a family,” Aurora heard Zak grind out. “If spending Christmas with them is so important to you, then go back to your house.”
His ex-wife made a dismissive noise. “But now that we’re not going to Disneyland, we can go to the cabin. It’s a no-kid thing. Besides, it’s your year. You threw such a big stink about not getting them, I figured you’d be thrilled.”
“Of course I’m thrilled,” Zak said, both happiness and fear shaking in his voice. “It’s just … ”
“Just what?” she asked, more impatience in her tone. “Why do you have to make things so difficult, Zak? Just take them. Merry Christmas. We’ll be by to get them on January second.”
“What?” Zak asked.
Oh, what Aurora would give to be a fly on the wall and not just as eavesdropper. She needed to see the woman’s facial expressions. She could only imagine her lips were turned up into a sneer or a smug smile of satisfaction.
“We’re going to stay at the cabin through the new year. May as well.”
Aurora shut her eyes and shook her head. Zak’s ex was a real piece of work. It seemed as though she only wanted her children when it was convenient for her or when she could stick it to Zak. Otherwise, they were a burden to her freedom.
“Who are you?” a small feminine voice asked. “Is that my dad’s shirt?”
Aurora’s eyes blinked open, and her mouth resembled that of a hungry codfish.
“Are you my dad’s girlfriend?” the little girl continued, wrinkling her nose the same way Zak did when he was confused. Her bright amber eyes squinted at Aurora as she tilted her head to one side.
Aurora swallowed. “I’m, uh … ”
“Who are you?” A boy the spitting image of Zak, only a bit shorter and without any tattoos, appeared around the corner. Red hair, sharp blue eyes, freckles on his cheeks, forehead and down his arms. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Aurora,” she finally managed to say. “But you can call me Rory.”
The little girl shook her head, jostling her red waves that floated around her shoulders. “Nope, I’m calling you Aurora. That’s the same name as Sleeping Beauty, and I love Sleeping Beauty.”
“Are you Dad’s new girlfriend?” the boy asked, leaning his arm on the stair rail. If she remembered correctly, Zak had said that Aiden was ten and Tia was eight.
They each wore a backpack, and the little girl had a stuffed panda bear beneath her arm. “Are you spending Christmas with us?”
“I, uh … ”
“We were supposed to be at Disneyland, but our flight was canceled. Mom and Craig want to head to Craig’s friend’s cabin, so now we’re back with Dad.” She scratched her head. “I was excited for Disneyland but not spending all that time with Craig. He’s weird.”
The boy nodded. “And he smells funny.”
His sister nodded in agreement. “Like bad cough syrup.”
Aurora swallowed. “Can you tell me your names?” She was going to avoid answering their question about her being their father’s girlfriend as best she could.
No, I’m not your father’s girlfriend, just his friendly neighborhood stalker who’s been having an obscene amount of sex with him for the past eighteen hours. No big deal. Merry Christmas, kids!
“I’m Aiden, and this is Tia,” the boy said, pointing at his sister. “Could we please get by you so we can go and put our bags in our rooms?”
Wow, what great manners.
Aurora shifted on the stairs until her knee hit the wall. “Yeah, totally. Sorry ’bout that.”
He lifted one shoulder and ascended the stairs. “No problem. Thanks.”
Tia remained standing in front of her. She clutched her panda tight to her chest. “Did you and my dad bake cookies?” She angled her head back around the corner toward the kitchen. “It smells like cookies, but this house never smells like cookies. Spinach and protein muffins maybe but never cookies.”
Aurora smiled. She liked Tia. She liked both of Zak’s kids. “We did. And I bet he’ll let you have one if you run upstairs like your brother and put your bag away.”
The little girl’s eyes went wide. “Okay. You’ll tell him you said it was okay?”
Aurora’s lips contorted. “It’s not my place to say. But your dad seems like a pretty reasonable guy, so if you ask him politely, he might say yes to you having one.”
Tia’s nose wrinkled. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” Then she thundered up the stairs like her big brother just had, leaving Aurora sitting on the stairs,
wondering how she was going to get out of this jam.
Zak slammed his front door shut and locked it.
He clenched his jaw until he was close to chipping a tooth and pulled violently on the ends of his hair.
He would not stoop to her level. He would not call his children’s mother names. Not even in his head. He would not.
He.
Would.
Not.
But Craig was a motherfucking douche-canoe with a bad haircut, boy-band streaks and the smile of a goddamn sociopath. He reeked like Drakkar Noir and cherry-flavored vape and drank motherfucking light beer. Who the fuck drank light beer?
Douche-canoes! That’s who.
And the guy wore a jeweled pinky ring.
A. Pinky. Ring.
If there was anything he planned to teach Tia and have her carry through life as she grew into a young woman, it was that she should never ever trust a man, let alone go near a man who wore a goddamn bedazzled pinky ring.
Not to mention, the guy was a fucking jet ski and speedboat salesman. Was there a smarmier, more lowlife job on the planet? No, there was not.
Craig was an asswipe. Craig was a prick. Craig was shit for brains.
Phew.
He let go of his hair.
That felt better.
He would never in a million years speak ill of the mother of his children, because that would be speaking ill of his kids, but he had no love lost or otherwise toward Craig. Craig was a tool with a capital T.
The first time Zak met him, Craig had pulled into Zak’s driveway, blasting music from his dark blue racing-striped Dodge Charger with the personalized license plate that said LDISMAN. Yes. Ladies’ Man. Loni was in the front seat, and they were there to pick up the kids.
At first, Craig hadn’t gotten out of the vehicle. He remained behind the steering wheel, engine still running, music still playing.
But then Zak refused to let his children leave with a man he’d never met, so Loni made Craig get out of the car.