Merry Christmas From Daddy to Little One by Lola King

Author:Lola King [King, Lola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781916837089
Publisher: King & Hunter
Published: 2023-12-13T18:30:00+00:00

4

I’m not entirely sure what wakes me up. There’s no noise. The French doors leading to my balcony aren’t open. But something feels odd, so I open my eyes. I twist under the covers, switching to lay on my other side, and bring the covers higher.

I close my eyes again, but that feeling is still there. I sit up, fluffing my pillow, and turn around, finally facing my room.

The frightened gasp that leaves me is loud, my hand automatically coming to my heart as I freeze on the spot.

It only takes a split second for the surprise to settle, and for my conscious brain to take over, telling me this is a shadow I know perfectly.

He’s sitting on my desk chair, facing my bed, an ankle resting on his thigh, his hands linked on his stomach. I notice when he smiles because his white teeth flash in the dark.

“Chris!” I snap, sitting up in my bed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His wide shoulders shake in the slightest when he laughs to himself. “I’m watching you sleep.” A simple statement, as if saying, you silly girl, isn’t it obvious?

“God, you’re so drunk.” I throw the covers off and stand up, rounding my bed to reach him. “Come on.” I wrap my hand around his, ignoring the electricity coursing through my body. “Let’s get you back home.”

It’s the worst mistake of my life to touch him. My heart is already begging me to never let him go. His warm skin against mine tells me he hasn’t just come in from the cold. He must have been watching me for a while.

But the biggest mistake was getting in his vicinity. The moment I try to pull him off the chair, he lets go of my hand, grabbing my waist instead.

He pulls me onto his lap without any struggle, and all sorts of resistance is useless. Chris must be over twice my weight. Our strengths don’t compare. I push at his shoulders, but he easily sits me on his lap. I’m facing him, straddling him.

“Chris, stop this right now.”

Ignoring my struggle, he slides a hand at the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling with the strands of my blonde hair. His hand at my waist turns into an arm encircling me.

And he pulls me against him. He forces my head to rest on his shoulder and buries his face in my hair.

“What—” His long inhale cuts me off.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like an addict who has been clean for months and finally gives into his most dangerous addiction. “I missed you, Sweets.”

I’m speechless for longer than I care to admit. Before I can stop myself, I’m relaxing in his strong hold, letting his muscles tighten around me. Before I can think straight, I inhale his cologne. Something so familiar. It’s discreet, soft, reassuring, nothing in your face. Just like him.

My legs tighten around his body, keeping him close to me.

You are so weak, Ella Baker.

I don’t know how long we hold each other before he speaks.

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