Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: The Maverick's Thanksgiving Baby\A Celebration Christmas\Dr. Daddy's Perfect Christmas (34 page)

BOOK: Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: The Maverick's Thanksgiving Baby\A Celebration Christmas\Dr. Daddy's Perfect Christmas
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As her body begged for the hardness of him to find its way home, she reached out, unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper. He moved to free himself of his clothes.

It had been a long time since she'd allowed herself to fully want, to fully trust, to be
this
vulnerable, but all that mattered now was how much she needed him. Because his need for her was evident and it made her feel powerful and beautiful. Strong and desirable.

He wanted her exactly the way she was.

No man had ever made her feel this beautiful before.

After the rest of her clothes had fallen away, he walked her backward to the bed and laid her down, covering her with his body.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his lips still brushing hers, ever so slightly. Those were the first words either of them had uttered since leaving the ball.

“You have no idea just how okay I am right now.” Her voice sounded raspy as she wrapped her arms around him. She reveled at how his broad back narrowed at the waist and at the sheer masculine width and breadth of him.

In turn, he smoothed a wisp of hair off her forehead and kissed the skin he'd just uncovered with such tenderness it nearly made her cry. He searched her eyes. She answered him with a kiss that promised,
Yes, I want this. I want you.

She longed to tell him exactly how many different ways she had imagined this moment and how glad she was that they no longer had to deny themselves.

But that would take too many words.

Tonight was not a night of words. And that was a good thing because the words couldn't find their way past her lips.

Still, he answered her silently with a sultry smile as he reached over, pulled open the drawer to his bedside table and took out a few condoms, which he tossed on top of the nightstand, where they would be ready and waiting when they needed them.

Once again, just as he'd done in the foyer, his hands found hers, and he laced their fingers together. She looked at their entwined hands. His were big and handsome, masculine hands. They lingered a moment on hers, gripping, flexing, hesitating, as if he were silently giving her one last chance to change her mind, to flee, back to just friends. After knowing each other for three weeks, they'd left behind the pretense of boss and nanny.

And there was no turning back now. That was the last thing she wanted.

A rush of red-hot need spiraled through her. He must have read it in her face, because he let go of her hands, and in a fevered rush, he rolled over onto his back, bringing her with him. As he kissed her softly, gently, her fingers found their way into his hair. She pulled him close, closer, until they were kissing with an all-consuming need.

His warm palms slipped between them and splayed over her breasts. His fingers paid reverence to her nipples, then trailed down her belly, where they lingered and played, tracing small circles that made her stomach muscles tighten and spasm in such agonizing pleasure that all her girl parts sang.

Actually they weren't singing. They were begging.

Then his hand slid even farther still, teasing its way toward her center, toward a hidden silken place that had been craving his touch.

But after another swift move, she found herself underneath him again. Her fingers swept over his tight shoulders and muscled arms, exploring the firm sinew before going south and discovering the curve of his tight derriere. She pulled him closer, so that the hardness of him pressed into her, urging her legs to part, proving to her that his need was as strong as hers.

But he still made her wait, teetering on that fine line between anguish and ecstasy.

He claimed her mouth again, capturing her tongue with his, teasing her until she almost couldn't bear it any longer. But with every fiber of her being she concentrated on the moment. Until she thought she would burst with longing.

She wrapped herself around him, kissing him hard on the mouth, all lips and tongue and take-me-right-now touches.

She loved how her curves fit perfectly into the hard angles of his body. When he moved his hands to her hips, claiming her body and pulling her closer, she arched against him, backing off to give herself enough room to slide her hand down and claim his erection. Teasing him over and over, she rubbed and stroked his desire. Until he finally put on the condom. He nudged her legs apart with his thigh and buried himself inside her.

* * *

At the rate he was going, if he didn't slow down, it would be over before he could show her exactly how much he had loved her.

Yes. He loved her.

The strangest sensation came over him.

For the first time in his life, he didn't want to run.

He had no idea where this was going, but he knew he would be here to find out.

He slowed his pace, kissing her neck as their bodies found a natural rhythm.

He was lost in the feel of her, the smell and taste of her, until something out of place pushed its way into his awareness.

He really hadn't intended for this to happen tonight. Okay, so he'd wanted it and he was glad it had. But if he'd planned on seducing her, he would've reserved a room at the hotel.

He wanted to wait until she was ready. That was the only way this would work.

When he'd seen her standing there in front of that jackass she'd almost married, looking vulnerable and sweet and much more tempting than anyone he'd ever met in his life, he'd wondered how in the world the guy had ever let her get away. At that moment, Cullen knew he wasn't going to make the same mistake.

Still, he hadn't intended to push her to his bed. This chemistry between them was an important part of who they were together, but it was a bonus. After all she'd been through, he knew he needed to let her set the pace.

He also knew that making love to Lily couldn't just be a fling. He'd had to make sure that he was ready for it. It meant so much more and he needed to prove that to her.

He looked into her eyes as they moved together and he realized this could never be a fling. This was for keeps.

Despite the need that was driving him to the edge of insanity, once again he forced himself to slow down, taking a moment to savor how beautiful she looked and to bask in how much he loved her.

He wanted to tell her he would never hurt her. Not on purpose. Never on purpose. Knowing without a doubt the more time he spent with her, the more he knew his life was nothing without her.

Beneath the sound of blood rushing in his ears, he heard the ragged edge of her breathing become faster and stronger until she cried out.

All his senses were heightened by the sound of her pleasure, and his breathing began to match hers. He clung to her as his body thrust in and out, over and over, faster and faster until he took her over the edge of ecstasy.

Only when he was sure that she was satisfied did he allow himself to ride the mounting waves of pleasure and succumb to a final delicious thrust. A long, anguished groan erupted from his throat. He collapsed on top of her, kissing her tenderly, possessively, pulling her to him until every inch of her was pressed against him as he reveled in their spent pleasure and lost himself in the tenderness of their embrace.

Chapter Thirteen

W
aking up in Cullen's arms was better than opening presents on Christmas morning, which was only four days away. Lately, though, Lily was choosing to live in the moment. Everything was still so new, and of course, they had the kids to consider.

“I think we need to be careful around the kids,” she said. “They're so young they might find this confusing.” She gestured back and forth between Cullen and herself.

“You're right,” he said, kissing her neck. “Knowing I have to keep my hands off you is just going to make me hotter for you.”

She was so comfortable in the crook of his arm she wished they could stay this way all day. However, they needed to start thinking about mobilizing, because the kids would be back at noon. It was ten o'clock.

She still had to shower and dress and make herself presentable so that the kids wouldn't notice that anything was different...although she did worry that anyone who looked at her would see her face and be able to tell that everything had changed.

“It won't be like this forever,” Cullen said.

She wasn't sure what he meant exactly. Was he talking about making things permanent? As in, put-a-ring-on-it permanent? Her stomach jumped at the thought, but just as fast as the thought materialized, she shelved it. They'd known each other less than a month, and good grief, it was the morning after their first night together.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Cam Brady said he had some viable leads for a couple of families who might be interested in taking in the kids.”

Lily's heart sank. That was the only sticky situation they hadn't worked through. She didn't want to send the kids off somewhere else. Not only had she fallen in love with him since she'd been here, but he and the kids had become her family. But that was a Pandora's box she wasn't sure she wanted to open right now. They were just getting comfortable being a couple. The other parts would work themselves out in due time.

“You're awfully quiet,” he said.

She knew she needed to tread lightly, but she couldn't pretend the kids weren't important to her.

“I just can't imagine the kids not being in this house. Why are you so afraid of fatherhood? Every man I know who has kids said it's been life-changing. Sure, the lifestyle change may take some getting used to, but I've never known anyone who was an involved parent who regretted it.”

She felt him pull away. It was an almost imperceptible move, but she felt it.

“The key words you just said were
involved parent,
” he said. “My schedule just doesn't allow it. You've seen how many late nights I have. That wouldn't be fair to anyone.”

There he was, talking in generalities again.

Whom wouldn't it be fair to? The kids? Her?

Asking might seem pushy, although she needed to know his thoughts on this sooner rather than later. Was he talking about her raising the kids and him not being an active involved parent? Because even if he wasn't talking about her specifically, she still wanted to point out that with or without the kids, whoever he was involved with would still have to endure the nights that he wasn't home.

She couldn't figure out how to make that sound right, so she went with a slight variation.

He shifted and put his arm that had been around her behind his head.

“Well, all I know is there's no such thing as a perfect situation. Life is messy and unexpected, and everyone has to compromise. If you start overthinking, it can paralyze you.”

His eyebrows rose and fell, as if he were considering what she had said but was not entirely convinced.

“When I was growing up, my mother had to do it all. I was her only child, thank God. She worked and cooked and cleaned and cared for me, until I was old enough to help out. When I was old enough to see what was going on, I couldn't help thinking how horribly unfair it was that my father had been a partner in bringing me into this world but couldn't stay for the
messy parts,
as you call them.

“He was a total absentee father. He divorced my mom and came around every once in a blue moon to see me. Sometimes he'd say he'd be there, but he wouldn't show. He was so undependable and selfish that I hated him. I vowed I would never be anything like him. He was a drunk, a womanizer and basically a despicable human being. The only time he ever deigned to give me any advice, he told me that women were no good. They were only out to get knocked up and bleed you dry.”

Cullen had a faraway look in his eyes and he harrumphed at something he was thinking.

Lily put her hand on his chest, drawing figure eights with the nail of her index finger. “What are you thinking?”

He looked at her and there was so much love in his eyes. “I was thinking that sometimes we don't realize how much we resemble someone. Even if we don't intend to repeat their mistakes.”

Lily knew he was talking about his own broken marriage and the revolving door of women that had been a part of his own life.

“I know his marriage to my mother was bad. Before he left, I remember them screaming at each other. I know he was no prize, but I wonder if that single bad situation kept him from finding real love. Maybe he missed out on someone like you? If anything could make me feel bad for the guy, that would be it.”

He leaned over, kissed her and made love to her one more time. Afterward they showered together and got ready to
go back to normal.
They had a practice run, which consisted of going downstairs and having a brunch of French toast and coffee. Lily made extra French toast for the kids and Sydney, who had even gone by to pick up George from his sleepover and was dropping him off with the girls.

“Can't you whip up a batch of the cinnamon rolls that made me fall in love with you?” Cullen said.

“Not in time for breakfast. They have to rise for two hours before I can bake them. But if you're a good boy I might be persuaded to make them for you tomorrow.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Let me show you just how good I can be.”

He kissed her soundly, until a knock at the front door and the persistent ring of the doorbell brought them back to reality.

The kids were home. They smiled at each other as they straightened their clothing, fixed their hair and put on their
normal
faces.

Lily answered the door while Cullen checked messages on his smartphone.

“We're back!” said Sydney as Lily welcomed them.

In a burst of exuberance, the girls were all trying to show Lily their painted nails and the temporary tattoos that Sydney, who they proclaimed was the coolest person in the world, had helped them put on.

Even George seemed a little less surly than normal.

“Did you remember I have a game today at two o'clock?” he asked.

He said this just as Cullen was coming into the living room to greet them and thank Sydney for taking the kids for the night.

Lily blinked.

Oh, boy.
With everything that had been going on—baking for the holiday market, Bridget getting sick (but recovering completely in just a couple of days), preparing for the Jingle Bell Ball and figuring out her new relationship with Cullen, she had forgotten. She had even written it on the calendar, but—

“That's right,” said Lily. “We're all going to be there to cheer you on.”

The girls groaned about having to go.

“Basketball is boring,” Megan proclaimed. “Can't we stay home?”

“It's pretty important that we all go to support George. We could be a big cheering section.”

“Is Uncle Cullen going?” Bridget asked.

Lily's gaze snagged Cullen's. She gave him a look that asked,
Are you?

“Actually I have to run by the hospital to check on a few things this morning.” He hesitated. “But I'll be there as soon as I can. Would that work?”

He'd posed the question to Lily, but the girls cheered, “Yes!” in unison.

George rolled his eyes.

“What's wrong, George?” Lily asked.

“Don't tell me you're going to come if you're not.”

“Hey, cut me some slack,” said Cullen. He walked over and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. “I know I goofed last week, but don't I get a second chance? This is the new-and-improved Uncle Cullen, and I want to show you what I can do. I might be a little late, but I will be there. Trust me?”

“How about if he takes you out for ice cream afterward?” Lily said. “Just the two of you.”

The girls protested that they wanted to go, too.

“It's not fair that he gets ice cream and we don't,” Megan proclaimed.

Her declaration was supported by a pair of “Yeah”s from her little sisters.

“How about if we let the guys have some bonding time? The girls can go do something fun, too, and then we can all meet back here for dinner. Sound good?”

The question was really directed at Cullen. Looking resigned, he nodded his consent. Lily wondered if he realized that she had just shown him it was possible to be a family man.

* * *

No way in hell was Cullen going to miss this game. He set three reminders on his phone and carried around a sticky note with the word
GAME
written in big bold letters to keep him from inadvertently zoning out and being a no-show. He even excused himself from an impromptu meeting because it was edging into game time.

He arrived about fifteen minutes late, but that was okay because he'd told the boy he would be late. And when George saw him his face visibly brightened and he started moving the ball with more hustle.

He was actually a pretty good player, Cullen thought. Who knew? Maybe he and the boy could set up a backboard out back—but then he remembered that the kids would be leaving shortly after Christmas.

But they probably would come to visit. So maybe a hoop wasn't completely out of the question.

Cullen found Lily and the girls and sat with them, and they all cheered for George and his team. The last fifteen minutes of the game, the score was neck and neck. It was a one-point game, so every basket mattered. George's team would score and the other team would take the ball right back down the court and answer it with another basket. So much for defense, Cullen thought, but maybe he'd work with the boy on that. Maybe George would end up playing ball in high school. For a couple of minutes Cullen imagined him and Lily going to watch all the home games and introducing them to his friends as his aunt Lily and uncle Cullen.

He glanced at Lily, trying on the fantasy.

While he looked away, something happened on the court. George and the kid from the other team were tussling over the ball. Each boy had a grip on it in a last-minute showdown. They were yanking on it so hard that the two boys were nearly standing in a circle trying to gain possession.

George's team led by one point. The small crowd got to its feet.

Cullen, Lily and the girls cheered, “Go, George, go! Get the ball.”

As if bolstered by the support, George gave one quick, decisive yank and jerked the ball free. Holding it to his chest, he hesitated for a second, looking up in the stands. He made eye contact with Cullen, who cheered wildly.

“That's my boy! Way to go! You got this.”

Even though his team had the lead, it would be so great for his confidence if he could score the final basket. According to Lily, last night's sleepover with some of the guys on the team had been a breakthrough of sorts. George was making friends and showing so much confidence out on the court.

Then, as if it happened in slow motion, George took off running. The wrong way. He was running the wrong way down the court. The crowd was yelling again. Cullen was trying to get his attention to tell him to turn around and go the other way. Even if he held on to the ball until the clock ran out, his team would win, but George seemed to be so caught up in the frenzy that he shot the ball at the basket and scored the final two points for the other team.

Lily reached out and took ahold of Cullen's hand and whispered, “Oh, boy. Oh, no.”

The opposing team won the match by one point.

For a split second the entire gymnasium went absolutely silent. George's teammates stood stock-still on the court, gaping at him in disbelief.

Then the guys on the other team broke out into a frenzy of cheers and applause, exhibiting terrible sportsmanship. They jeered at George and slapped high fives with each other as they taunted George for winning the game for them. Wasn't someone going to stop them? Someone really needed to sit them down and talk to them about that. In fact, in all fairness, shouldn't they forfeit the basket because of unsportsmanlike behavior?

But the damage had already been done. That would only bring more attention to George's error.

Cullen turned to Lily. “Why don't you go ahead and take the girls home? I'll go get George and try to do some damage control.”

“Are you sure?” Lily asked him.

“Yes, I've got this.” He was driven by an incredibly overwhelming sense of protectiveness. A long time ago, he had been the kid on the team who made the mistake and there was no one there to stand up for him. His mom had been working and his dad was nowhere to be found. Cullen had been left to fend for himself. It was the worst feeling in the world for a little boy. Cullen knew he might not be father material, but this,
this
was personal.

As Lily ushered the girls from the gymnasium, Cullen made his way down to the court to retrieve George, who was still standing frozen underneath the basket.

“Hey, buddy,” he said. “How about we go get that banana split we talked about?”

Where was the coach? Cullen wanted to tear into him right now for not being there to reinforce that it was just a game and George had done the best he could do. Hell, George had been doing a great job till the end. This was the kind of thing that could scar a kid for life. It could make him turn inward—or push him further inward than he already was.

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