OceanofPDF.com

SNOWED IN WITH THE DAD BOD

BECAUSE IT ISN’T CHRISTMAS WITHOUT THE D…

ANNIE CHARME

CHAMBRE ROSE PUBLISHING

OceanofPDF.com

Copyright © 2024 by Annie Charme

All rights reserved.

The moral rights of the author, Annie Charme to be identified as the author of this work have been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

No part of this edition may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher and copyright holder. Except for the use of a brief quotation in a book review.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold or hired out in any form of binding other than that in which it is first published and without this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A catalogue record of this book is available from The British Library

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organisations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

First Published in 2024 by Chambre Rose Publishing

Created with Vellum

OceanofPDF.com

For all the girls who want a growly lumberjack papa bear, with muscles beneath his chunk…

Merry Christmas

OceanofPDF.com

FOREWORD

This book is written by a British author. Therefore all spellings and grammar are British English. 

What you can expect in this story:

Discussions on a parental loss from a boating accident a few years prior (off page) Grief around the holidays.

Snow storm, strong language, graphic sexual scenes (full list on my website www.anniecharme.com).

OceanofPDF.com

1

ANGELICA

“Dad, I’m totally fine. I’m twenty-three. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.” I indicate to take the country road that leads to my father’s cabin, the snow coming down heavier the farther north I go.

“I know muffin, but this is the first Christmas we haven’t spent together. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Scotland with me and Lorraine? I’ll even pick you up from London if you don’t want to drive or take a train.”

“Dad. I’ve told you. I’m spending Christmas in London with my flatmate. We’ll have a great time. We have a bunch of friends coming over for Christmas dinner.” I tap my chipped nails against the steering wheel, hoping he believes the lie and doesn’t hear the windshield wipers going as I flick them onto a faster setting to clear the heavy snowfall. “You and Lorraine enjoy Scotland. You don’t need me tagging along like a third wheel.”

“Lorraine wants to know you better, muffin. We’d love to have you with us anytime. I wish you’d give her a chance.”

“I like her, Dad. I really do. And I’m happy for you. I just have plans this Christmas, that’s all.” I slow the car down as I take the winding road towards the lakeside cabin. Snow crunches under the tyres of my little Suzuki Splash. She’s not made for this sort of terrain.

“All right. I’ll have your gifts shipped to the flat.”

“No,” I shout. “I mean, save them for when I see you.” My headlights shine on the trees ahead, dusted with snow like icing sugar sprinkled on freshly baked cookies. Warmth fills my belly, that familiar feeling of home as I drive towards the one place that makes me feel close to my mum.

“But you won’t have them in time for Christmas.”

“I can wait. Really. Plus, I have your gifts too. We can do the exchange in the New Year.” The last thing I need is him sending my gifts to an empty flat I don’t even live in anymore.

“All right, if you’re sure.”

I let out a long breath, knowing I’m going to have to come clean with my father eventually, but there’s no point in ruining his Christmas. If he knew I’d lost my job, and had to give up my flat and was driving to the cabin to spend Christmas alone to wallow in self-pity and binge Ben & Jerry’s while watching cheesy holiday movies, he’d cancel his plans with Lorraine and be there in a heartbeat.

“I’m going to go now, Dad. Call me when you get to Scotland, okay?” The moonlight shines on the snowy road, making it glimmer. The flakes fall like glitter in a snow globe, only this isn’t a Hallmark Channel Christmas movie like the ones I plan on watching. This is my shitshow of a life, and just like the snow that glistens on the outside, it hides a multitude of secrets underneath its crystal white blanket.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, Dad.”

The phone falls silent and I’m left alone with my thoughts and my miserable life. Just me, my Suzuki, and all of my belongings.

OceanofPDF.com

2

SAWYER

Entering the cabin through the back door, I shake the snow from my sheepskin coat and kick off my snow-covered boots, making sure to not ruin my mate Colin’s wooden flooring. This place has been my home for the last month, and while Colin said I can stay here while I get my life back on track, I have to remember this is still his place.

With a bag of groceries in hand, I head into the open-plan living space, but pause, holding my breath as I train my ear to the sound of running water coming from above.

The carved wooden deer on the wall stares back at me with its all-seeing glass eyes. I’m sure that thing is alive. Either that or Colin has a camera fitted into the head as I swear it watches me.

A huff of a laugh bursts from my mouth at the ridiculous thought. I wouldn’t put it past my mate Dom, who lives in the next cabin along the lake, or even Dan, his brother, but not Colin.

Pipes groan, and the boiler rattles as if the water is on. Floorboards creek with shuffling noises. The deer’s eyes seem to follow me as I prowl up the staircase, listening for any movement elsewhere, but the only noise is coming from the bathroom.

Different scenarios run through my head. Did I leave the shower on? Is there a burst pipe, a faulty tap? Has the boiler finally packed up? Does Colin have a ghost? A chuckle shakes my chest at yet another silly thought.

If his deceased wife is hiding in these walls, maybe she could keep me company this Christmas while I’m bunking here. I’ll take a ghost over spending another holiday with my ex.

Reaching the top step, steam floats through the gap in the bathroom door like mist on the lake or the Ghost of Christmas Past. Walking through the hot air, I push the bathroom door open. Then freeze at the sight.

Blood rushes to my head and my groin. The pulse in my neck throbs. My Christmas wish has been answered and Santa has come early, delivering a full-figured woman to keep me warm this winter.

Even with the misted shower screen, I take in her curves from the side profile: a round belly and even rounder arse.

She steps back from behind the screen out of the spray of the shower while she lathers her long brunette hair, the scent of a cinnamon wafts through the small space. She turns slightly, showing me the delicious creases in her back. I follow the dripping soap suds to the dimples above her ass and the deep valley that I want to explore with my tongue.

I rub my eyes, making sure they’re not deceiving me.

She lifts the shower hose from the holster and uses it to rinse her hair, tilting her head back as she turns. Now facing the other side, she’s no longer a brunette beauty, but a blonde bombshell.

Her breasts are full but perky, with youth on her side. Red nipples beg to be sucked like a glazed cherry atop a Bakewell tart.

My gaze follows the rivulets of water running south over her round belly that meets her thick thighs. My mouth waters at the plump V below her stomach. It’s barely visible, like a hidden cavern full of treasure between lush hills.

A scream breaks the spell I’m under.

I stumble backwards as I’m doused with a spray of hot water. I wipe my face, but it doesn’t stop, like heavy rain hitting me in the eyes.

The squealing stops along with the spray of water as she points the hose back inside the double shower.

I rub my eyes to get a better look at the woman before me.

“Uncle Sawyer?” Her voice is that of an angel. An angel I know all too well. Damn it. My best mate’s daughter, Angelica.

My stomach twists into knots, forcing acid to breach my throat. My best friend’s daughter, Angelica, is now a woman. A woman I was about to take to bed.

I gulp down the rising bile and the climbing shame that heats my face. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

She covers herself with one arm across her breasts and the other below her stomach. With her head popping out from behind the misted glass screen, she quirks an eyebrow. “You’re still here.”

“Right.” I turn around and step out of the room, grabbing a towel from the hook on my way out. Closing the door behind me, I stare at the wood and silver handle, unable to think straight.

Mindlessly, I wander into the guest bedroom where I’ve been sleeping the last few days and dry my hair with the towel. I can still see the curve of her breasts in my mind and the way the water hung from her nipple like a pearl clinging to a shell, a natural treasure that was ripe for the taking.

I didn’t know it was her. Angelica always had a full head of blonde hair, like her mother. She must have dyed it this two-tone brunette and blonde colour. I swear I didn’t know who she was until she called my name. And not just any name, the name she’s called me since she was a little girl.

I may not actually be her uncle, but since I’ve known the lass, it’s the name she gave me and I went with it. Not having any kids of my own, she was like a little ray of sunshine who would jump into my lap, always lifting my spirits.

I glance down at the bulge in my jeans. Now she’s lifting more than my spirits. I swallow the rising bile again, willing my dick to go down too, as I shove my wet jeans off my legs.

My checked shirt sticks to my chest as I peel the wet fabric from my body. Fuck. I’m sick. Somehow knowing it’s Angelica in the shower, and not some random woman sent by the gods, turns me on even more. But no matter how much my dick wants her, she’s off-limits.

I throw my wet clothes into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room, then grab a pair of joggers from the wardrobe and pull them on.

“Uncle Sawyer?” That angelic voice again calls to me.

“Come in.” I turn to face the door as it creaks open.

In flannel pyjamas with a gingerbread print, she reminds me of the little girl she was, not the goddess in the shower with curves that would turn any man towards sin.

“What are you doing here?” She fiddles with her long wet hair as it hangs in front of her shoulders, her eyes roaming my chest as I rub it down with the towel.

I let her wandering eyes look their fill, enjoying how they linger on the ink hidden beneath a carpet of hair on my chest.

“What are you doing here? Your father told me you were spending Christmas in London.” I discard the towel into the hamper and open a drawer, searching for a t-shirt.

“I had a change of plans.”

I grab a black tee and pull it over my head. “Your dad said I could crash here for a while. Said it was empty.” I walk towards her in my doorway. “I can leave. Draven at the Black Crow will put me up for the holidays.”

“No, don’t leave.” Her voice is desperate, eyes wide like a rabbit caught in the headlights. “I mean, the weather isn’t good, and this place is big enough for both of us.”

I nod, swallowing the acid in my mouth. I should leave right now and get the hell away from her as fast as I can, but the desperation in her voice sounds like she wants the company at this time of year.

I’d come here to be alone. I’ve no family to speak of and since last month, no girlfriend after I caught her with another man. It was the wake-up call I needed to get out of a toxic relationship, even if it meant I was homeless. But if my angel doesn’t want to be alone this Christmas, then I’ll just have to be the good uncle she’s always seen in me and not the beast that wants to tear her apart and wreck her pretty plump pussy.

I can do that. I can be the man she needs while her father’s away. “You hungry?”

Her face brightens like I’ve just flicked a switch on the Christmas lights. “Starving.”

“Me too. I bought a ready-made lasagna. I’ll put it in the oven.” Squeezing past her in the doorway, she’s a lot taller than I remember. She’s grown in every way. Her breasts brush against my chest and I remind myself once again that she’s Colin’s little girl.

OceanofPDF.com

3

ANGELICA

Iclose my bedroom door and lean against it, listening to Sawyer’s heavy footsteps descend the stairs. Finally able to breathe, I let out a long sigh, my head hitting the wood behind me, and I close my eyes, inhaling and exhaling as if I haven’t taken a breath for the past ten minutes.

The last time I saw Uncle Sawyer was at my twenty-first birthday party here at the cabin. My hand reaches for my collarbone to feel the small key and birthstone necklace he bought me. A comfort whenever I get stressed.

In a daze, I stumble to the bed and clutch my large teddy, Mr. Snuggles, another one of Sawyer’s birthday gifts from when I was a child. I might call him uncle, but the thoughts I have about this man are not unclely. I chew on my thumbnail. Is that even a word?

Lifting my bag onto the bed, I unpack the rest of my things and look for something to wear other than these frumpy pyjamas. If I’m staying in a cabin with the one man I’ve fantasised about since I turned sixteen, the least I can do is look my best.

Heat radiates from my cheeks. I pause with a handful of clothes in my arms. The guy’s just seen me naked as the day I was born. I should be embarrassed, but I’m incredibly hot and turned on with the way his eyes darkened as they raked over my damp skin. For the first time in my life, he looked at me as a woman and not his best friend’s little kid.

I drop my clothes onto the bed in a huff, searching for anything other than leggings, jeans, or baggy tees and jumpers. I take off my pyjamas and open my wardrobe, hoping I have a few outfits in here. Most of my old clothes are at Dad’s house, but I always kept some here at the cabin for when we visited during the holidays.

Rifling through the clothes in my wardrobe, I realise these aren’t mine. They’re all Mum’s clothes. Dad never got around to clearing her stuff out, but he must have moved them from the master suite into here when he invited Lorraine to stay.

I unhook a black dress and catch Mum’s perfume. I drop onto the bed in my underwear and lift the crumpled dress to my nose, inhaling her scent woven into the fabric. It’s as if she’s here, wrapping me in a hug.

A tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it with the fabric of her dress. It’s been four years without her and I’ve never felt more alone. I know I have Dad, but it’s different now he’s got Lorraine. He’s moving on and I’m not ready to let go.

A knock on my bedroom door startles me, and I wipe away my tears. “Yes?”

The door swings open. Sawyer’s large frame fills the doorway. I’m not small by any means, but next to Sawyer, I’m like a doll. Though not a slim plastic doll with perfect proportions. I’m one of those stuffed fabric dolls like my nan used to knit, with extra padding in the middle area.

I hold the dress in front of me, hiding my breasts and belly. “Do you have to keep barging in on me?”

“Fuck. You said ‘yes,’ so I thought you were dressed.” He steps back and closes the door. “Dinner’s almost done. Are you coming down?”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” My voice wobbles as I try to put on a brave face.

“Are you crying?” The door swings open again and he steps into my room, his eyes zeroing in on my puffy face.

“Sawyer,” I yell, holding the dress in front of my body.

He sits on the bed next to me and cups my face in his large, rough palms. His thumb swipes my wet cheek, wiping away the tears. “What’s wrong, baby girl? Tell me who’s upset you.”

I shake my head and lean into his hand, holding my face. Somehow, his touch makes everything better and I no longer feel alone. “I was just thinking about Mum. I was looking for something to wear for dinner and⁠—”

“Sweetheart, this ain’t a hotel. You don’t need to dress for dinner.” He reaches for my pyjamas crumpled on my bed. “Here. Put these on.” He unbuttons the top and holds it for me to push my arms inside, like I’m a child and he’s dressing me. It’s comforting, and it’s been a long time since anyone helped me dress.

I slip my arm into the other sleeve as he holds it out for me, then I let Mum’s dress drape over my thighs as I hold the pyjama shirt together and button it, all the while keeping my modesty.

Sawyer’s seen enough of me today already. He doesn’t need to see any more, not that he’s trying.

“You never have to cry alone, angel. You can talk about your mum anytime.” His hands brush against my neck as he straightens my collar. “I know what it’s like to lose a mother.”

“Didn’t your mother leave?” I sniffle, trying to regulate my emotions.

Sawyer shrugs. “Same thing. She may as well have died. I never saw her again.” He reaches for Mr. Snuggles, who’s fallen onto the rug. “At least your mother loved you.” He hands me the teddy bear.

“Thanks.” I snuggle the teddy as if it’s Sawyer, my head nuzzling into the toy’s soft fur. “I’ve got so used to hiding my feelings, not wanting to upset Dad. I don’t know how to talk about them anymore.”

“How about we start over dinner?” He presses his lips to my forehead. His hand strokes the fur on Mr. Snuggles’ head. “I remember when I won this for you at the seaside.”

A smile lifts my cheeks, thinking back to that day. “Mum said I couldn’t have any more goes on the claw machines.”

He chuckles. “Well, you had spent about twenty quid of your dad’s money trying to win it and probably another twenty of mine, but it was worth it to see your face when it came through the shoot.”

My cheeks heat. He’s unaware of what I’ve done to this teddy, and he certainly hasn’t seen my face light up when I come all over the head he’s stroking. I should really give Mr. Snuggles a wash.

He rises from the bed, his fingers gliding over the chipped dressing table with a faded and peeled teddy bear decoupage design. “Your desk’s seen better days, huh?”

I clutch my bear tighter, resting my chin on its head. “Yeah, I should redo the design.”

“Did you do this?”

“When I was about fifteen. I used napkins and PVA glue and then varnish to seal.” I used to love working in the garage with Dad.

“It’s fantastic. You have a talent.” His finger rubs against the flaking white paint. “Maybe we can fix it up together.”

“I’d like that.”

He scans the rest of the bedroom with a small curve of his lips. “You’ve been here five minutes and your room looks like a bomb went off.”

“I’m still unpacking.” Following his gaze to the bags and boxes on the floor and the clothes on my bed, it’s a little overwhelming.

“Right.” He bobs his head. “I’ll serve up. Finish getting dressed and I’ll see you down there.”

OceanofPDF.com

4

SAWYER

Irub the ache in my chest as I walk out of her room. All I wanted to do was pick her up, sit her on my knee, and tell her everything’s gonna be all right.

Her dad should be here to comfort her, but I know he’s had it hard these last few years. Angie was the love of his life and after the accident, he struggled to focus at work with our building and renovation partnership. Luckily, I could take up the slack.

Walking past the deer on the wall, I narrow my eyes and huff. “You could’ve warned me she was here.” I swear the damn thing smirks at me.

Ignoring the deer, I open the oven door and waft the steam out of my face. The garlic bread and aroma from the lasagna fills the room. I’d like to say it’s authentic cuisine, but this is just a ready meal from Tesco. Living alone, it seems pointless going all out cooking a gourmet meal, but now Angelica’s here, I’ll have to up my cooking skills.

Splitting the tray between the two of us and slicing the garlic bread, I place it onto the breakfast bar and sit at the stool in the kitchen with a fork.

Angelica descends the stairs and pads through the space in her flannel pyjamas, her brown and blonde locks practically dry now, hanging in waves over her shoulders.

She smiles as she climbs onto the stool opposite me and picks up a fork. “This is lovely. Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

She lifts her head, her eyebrows pinched. “What for?”

“For being here. This meal wouldn’t be half as good if I was eating alone.” I break off a piece of garlic bread and dip it into the lasagna. “So when did you get the Cruella de Vil look?”

She rolls her eyes. “Cruella is black and white. This is blonde and brunette.” Her fingers tangle in the waves as she runs them through to the ends of her hair. “Don’t you like it?”

I chew on my food while I study the split colour down the centre of her head. She’s always had an alternate style and artistic streak. It suits her. Nodding, I mumble with a mouthful of garlic bread, “It’s growing on me.”

She shuffles in her seat with a hint of a smile playing on her lips and forks some of the lasagna.

“Be careful with that. It’s hot. Make sure you blow on it.”

She giggles. “I’m not a child.”

A smile curves my lips. “I know that. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to take care of you.” No matter how old she gets, I’ll always take care of her. But now I’m seeing the woman she is for the first time, and it scares the hell out of me.

Visions of her in the shower and those little dimples above her ass have burned themselves into my mind. I shouldn’t be thinking of her that way. I shouldn’t be thinking of how I want to kiss those dimples, soap up her delicious curves and wash her with my bare hands, slip between her legs and find her little button that will make all her worries disappear.

“Uncle Sawyer?” Her sweet voice sings to me like an angel’s song.

I clear my throat and will myself to focus on the present. “Yeah?”

“What do you think?”

“About what?” I must have zoned out while she was talking.

“Decorating for Christmas. I’m sure the old decorations are in the garage.” She moves the food around her plate. “If you’d rather not, that’s okay. I can do it myself.”

“Whatever you want, angel.” Now she’s here, it seems only natural to make the place look festive. When it was just me, I didn’t see the point, but she makes everything seem brighter, as if the room’s already shimmering with lights, and that’s just from the smile she’s wearing that reaches her eyes. She gives me a purpose. I should take better care of myself and stop living on takeout and Tesco ready meals, even if they are Tesco’s finest. Now she’s here, I’ll put the central heating on instead of just a fire to heat one room.

She narrows her eyes, staring at me. “So what’s your story? Why are you here?”

I’m gonna need a drink for this one. I swivel the stool and take the few steps to the fridge. “Your dad said I could crash here until after the holidays.”

“What happened to Bertha or Belinda or whatever her name was? Sorry, I can’t remember who you were staying with.”

A chuckle shakes my belly as I reach for a beer. “Brenda.” I close the fridge and open a drawer for the bottle opener. “I haven’t dated Brenda since your twenty-first birthday party.”

“Oh.” She shuffles on her stool, reaching for a piece of garlic bread.

“I was dating a woman, but I caught her with a biker from the other side of town. So I had to find somewhere else to live.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” A half laugh puffs out of me. “I’m glad. The bloke’s welcome to her and her miserable teenage son. The dude hated me anyway.”

“I mean, I’m sorry you had nowhere to live.”

“You know me. I’m never in one place for too long. If it wasn’t for your dad, I probably wouldn’t have kept a job as long as I have.”

“Well, it is your business, so it’s not like you can fire yourself.”

“That’s true. Or I’d probably have been out on my ass a long time ago.”

“You’re good at what you do.” She waves a hand around the cabin. “You’ve fixed the place up a little, haven’t you?”

I glance up at the wooden beams in the kitchen ceiling, remembering renovating this place with her dad. “Colin only kept this place for your mum.”

“He would do anything for Mum, wouldn’t he?”

“Yeah, he would.” I was always envious of him in that way. He had it all. A wife and daughter. Things I’d give my right arm for, but I’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing a love like that. Now I’m glad, after seeing how it almost killed him after her accident. I never want to experience that.

It’s why he’s always been so overprotective of Angelica. I know she moved to London to show him she’s a grown woman who can stand on her own two feet. Her absence made him do something for himself and get back in the dating game again. “I’m glad he’s happy again.”

“Do you see much of her?”

“I see them together at the bar, yeah. Her husband passed a few years back. They’ve both been able to heal each other.”

“I’m glad.”

“I hope it lasts for him.” Sooner or later, every relationship ends, whether it’s through a bad breakup or the woman walks out, cheats, or dies.

“I’m sure it will.” The young woman before me knows nothing of the heartache relationships cause. Eventually, they all end in tears.

I’m no good for any woman, let alone one as sweet as her. Another reason I cannot and absolutely will not touch my best friend’s daughter.

OceanofPDF.com

5

ANGELICA

“Hi, Dad.” I turn the bacon in the pan, wanting to make a nice breakfast for Sawyer after he took care of me last night. After dinner, we sat and talked about Mum and then he tucked me in before he went to the guest room where he’s been sleeping for the past month.

“Hey, muffin. How’s the weather down there?” He means London, but I’m no longer there.

I look out of the kitchen window, like a scene from a Christmas card with the sun shining on the snow-topped trees like glitter, the lake still like a foiled mirror. “It’s snowing, but it has slowed since last night. What’s it like where you are?”

“We’re staying at Lorraine’s son’s house for a few more nights until the snow stops. We don’t fancy driving to Scotland in this.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

“I just wanted to let you know in case you change your mind. There’s plenty of room.”

“Dad. I told you already, I’m happy to stay in London.” I put my dad on speaker and set the phone on the worktop while I remove the bacon from the pan. My skin itches. I hate lying to my dad.

“Something smells good,” Sawyer says as he enters the kitchen.

“Who’s that?” Dad asks.

My eyes widen and I shoo Sawyer away, mouthing “my dad” and pointing to the phone. “Er, it’s just a friend, Dad.”

Sawyer nods and walks around to the other side of the breakfast bar.

“Sounds like a boy to me. Is that why you wanted to stay in London?”

I look at Sawyer, a mix of guilt and fear clawing up my throat, making it scratchy. He’s anything but a boy.

“Angelica, do you have a boyfriend? Muffin, I know I’m not your mother, but you can talk to me about boys⁠—”

“Dad,” I say, then lift the phone, taking him off speaker. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I promise.” Chance would be a fine thing. The last time I had a boyfriend, was in school and the furthest we got was a kiss behind the bike shed.

“All right. All right. I just want you to know that if you had a boyfriend, we’d love to welcome him to the family. Or even a girlfriend?”

I palm my forehead. Of course, Dad thinks I’m gay. I’m a twenty-three-year-old woman who’s never had a serious relationship. “Dad. I don’t have a girlfriend or a boyfriend. I just wanted to hang out with friends.”

“Okay, muffin. I’ll let you go and be with your friends. I’ll check in later in the week.”

“Love you, Dad.”

“Love you.”

I tap the phone, making sure it’s disconnected.

Sawyer comes up behind me and cracks an egg into the pan. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re here with me and not in London with your friends?”

I lean against the worktop, letting him take over the breakfast. I scrunch my knitted cardigan into my fists. How can I tell him I don’t even have any friends? My flatmate, Eve, has moved to Texas to become a weather reporter, and other than her, I don’t have a single person in London who I’d like to spend time with. Not even my colleagues are nice to me. I should say former colleagues seeing as I lost my job.

“Did you fall out with your boyfriend?” His eyes bore into me as if he can figure out the truth telepathically.

I fiddle with the key necklace hanging at my collarbone. “Why does everyone assume I have a boyfriend?”

“Girlfriend?”

“You heard Dad?” A smile curves my lips. Perhaps telling him I fell out with a girlfriend would get him off my back, but I can’t seem to lie to Sawyer. “I hate London, okay.”

“But your dad’s always saying how much you love it. Said you’re thriving down there and you love your job.” He flips the egg, remembering just how I like them. “Your mum would be so proud of you, working at the National Gallery. A curator’s a really fancy role.” He points the spatula towards me. “That art degree’s come in real handy, hasn’t it?”

I swallow the lump in my throat, wishing I hadn’t lied to my dad. The closest I got to curating was in the evening when the museum closed and I went around the gallery with a duster. “I hate my job. I hate the flat. I hate my life.” My hands fly to my face and I rub under my eyes.

“Hey.” Sawyer takes the egg from the pan and slides it onto a plate, then rounds the breakfast bar, wrapping me up in his arms like a giant teddy bear. “If you hate it so much, you never have to go back there.” His huge mitts slide up and down my spine, soothing me.

I inhale his fresh scent from the shower; minty with a hint of wood from his shirt. His beard tickles my forehead. “I can’t go back there if I wanted to. I lost my job.”

“And you haven’t told your dad?”

I shake my head against his soft chest, nuzzling my face deeper into it to inhale more of his scent. “He would be so disappointed in me.”

Sawyer’s belly shakes against me with a silent laugh. “There’s nothing you could do that would make your father disappointed.” He pulls back, holding my shoulders at arms length. “Except maybe keep secrets from him.”

“How do you know?” I gulp, gazing into his eyes, inches from his face. All I can think about is what it would feel like to rise onto my tiptoes and press my lips against his, have his beard scratch at my skin, his tongue lick at my mouth.

“I know, because I feel exactly the same.” His eyes darken. This isn’t the same way a dad gazes lovingly upon his daughter. This is something else. Something primal. Heated. Intense.

“You can’t tell Dad I’m here.”

“Why don’t you want him to know where you are? Won’t he be worried?”

She sighs. “Not if he thinks I’m spending the holidays with my flatmate and friends. I just want him to enjoy his Christmas with Lorraine. If he knew I was coming here alone, he’d feel obligated to come and stay with me, and I don’t like the idea of Lorraine being here.”

“You know you mean everything to your dad and he’d put you first before anything, even Lorraine.”

“I know, and that makes me feel guilty. I want him to be happy, but I’m not ready to share this cabin and all the memories of Mum with her yet.” Curling my shoulders inwards, I swallow down the guilt. “Does that make me a horrible person?”

“You don’t have a nasty bone in your body. You’re an angel.”

“I don’t feel like it right now.”

He lifts my chin to look me in the eye. “You’ve just sacrificed your time with your dad so he can enjoy his Christmas with his new woman. That sounds pretty selfless to me.”

He releases his hold on me and steps back, retreating behind the worktop to continue cooking breakfast. “Do you want to butter the bread?” he says nonchalantly, as if he hasn’t just made a flood in my knickers with one look from his ravenous eyes.

“Sure.” My voice squeaks as I lift out the rolls from the bread bin. “I’ll come clean with Dad, but after the holidays. No point in having him worry about me and spoil his trip to Scotland.”

“Okay. I’ll keep your secret until then. But I don’t want you worrying about it either. I’ll get out of your hair today.”

“No. Please.” I have to hold back the emotion in my voice before I practically beg him to stay. “I don’t want to be alone this Christmas.”

“I meant, I’ll be busy outside, so you have the house to yourself. You want a tree chopped down, don’t you?”

“Oh. Maybe I can help.” I look over his shoulder at the flakes of snow drifting past the window pane.

Sawyer follows my gaze. “Make sure you get wrapped up if you’re coming out. I don’t want you catching a chill.”

There he goes, treating me like I’m a child again. “I’ll dig out my hat and mittens. Don’t worry, Uncle Sawyer.”

His brown eyes darken.

I’m sure a rumble rises from his throat. I feel it vibrate in my centre.

My stomach clenches. I want to do my best to bring the grizzly bear some festive cheer this year.

OceanofPDF.com

6

SAWYER

Iput on my jacket and boots and step out, ready to chop some wood, my belly satisfied with the bacon and egg breakfast roll. Snow crunches under my boots as I step down from the wooden porch and onto the back, where the axe sticks out of a tree stump. With just me, I’ve not kept a fire going, but now Angelica’s here, I want to make sure the cabin is warm.

I lift the axe above my shoulder and bring it down with some force onto a block of wood, splitting it in half. Repositioning the wood, I chop it again, hacking away at the log and taking all my frustration out on it.

Back in the kitchen, I almost lost control for a split-second. I wanted to tell her she never has to go back to a job she hates, because I’m gonna take care of her. But the way I want to take care of her is more than financial.

I bring the axe down again with a roar. I want to treat her like a woman deserves to be treated and wake her up every morning with my beard tickling the inside of her thighs. Another roar rumbles from my lips as I bring the axe down on a fresh block of wood.

Visions of her naked in the fucking shower are still at the front of my mind, and staying here is a bad idea. I should pack up my shit now and stay with Draven. I could walk to the bar from here, I don’t even need to take the bike. But hearing her plead with me to stay broke me. I could never deny her anything she wanted.

Fear grips me by the throat. Sweat trickles down my back like an ice cube sliding down my spine. If I stay here, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep the beast in me at bay, before I give in and take care of my sweet little angel in the way I need to take care of her.

Her dad would kill me for even looking at her that way. Let alone having these wicked thoughts. But death would be worth it for just one lick of her sweet pussy.

Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll be into girls after all, saving me from her dad’s wrath. I huff as I bring the axe down onto another log, the thought of her and another girl turning me on even more.

“Hey,” she shouts.

Something hits me on the back. I turn around and look up at the porch and smile at her in a wooly hat. A knitted rainbow scarf hangs over a plaid print fleece coat.

She’s gathering more snow from the railing with a giggle bursting from her mouth.

“You think that’s funny?” I drop the axe against the tree stump and scoop up a handful of snow, patting it into a ball. “You’d better run, angel.”

She squeals as she jumps from the last step on the back porch and runs around the side of the cabin.

I chase after her, flakes of snow hitting my face as I aim the snowball in her direction. It hits her back, and she yelps, then turns to aim one at me, which I dodge. She runs down the lane, trudging through the heavy snow in her trainers, her jeans darkening around the hem where they’re getting wet.

She’s only a few feet in front of me, but I slow down, liking the chase, and scoop another handful of snow into my palm. She stops running and turns to face me, out of breath, moulding another ball between her palms.

“I said you’d better run, angel.”

“Or what?”

A groan rumbles in the back of my throat. Is my angel a little brat? My dick twitches at the challenge. But I can’t say what I want to say. I can’t do what I want to do, and I can’t think what I’m thinking now; intrusive thoughts of catching her, carrying her into the cabin, stripping her bare by the fire and spanking her pretty ass pink before I kiss the dimples above her cheeks, then make her come on my tongue.

“Well?” she pants out the word as we stare off.

“When I catch you, there’s no telling what I’ll do.” I throw the ball, hoping that she’ll run as far away from me as she can.

It hits her shoulder and she yelps. Then, with a giggle, she turns and runs into the woods at the side of the lane.

I chase her, the snow forgotten, as all I can think about is the fantasy of what I want to do to her. If she knew my desires, she’d keep running. But that’s all it’ll ever be. A fantasy.

Twigs crunch under my boots as I trample through the trees off the beaten track. Anyone else would get lost in these woods, but I’ve been coming here since I was a boy. The Bianchis’ cabin is a little farther around the lake in another secluded spot, their land adjoining Colin’s. Dom’s since put up a perimeter, but we’d all hang out in these woods, building forts, dens, and the treehouse that’s still there to this day.

A dash of blonde darts between the trees, her long flowing waves giving her away.

I meander at a leisurely pace, knowing she’ll run out of steam soon enough.

A yell comes from the top of the hill as she crumples to a heap on the ground.

“Damn it.” I race to the top of the hill to catch up with her.

She’s still and silent with her face down in the snow.

My heart pounds against my ribs. Out of breath, I drop to the ground at her side. “You all right?”

She rolls over and shoves a handful of snow in my face with a giggle.

Ice prickles my cheeks like needles. I spit it back out as I lie on my back and she hovers over me, the sun shining on her brunette and golden hair like the angel that she is. I silence the devil on my shoulder while I take in her beauty. The sun casting a halo around her head makes her look like a saint and I’m the sinner.

“You look like Santa Claus.” She giggles again, the sound like music to my ears.

“Want to sit on my knee and tell me what you want for Christmas?” I chuckle to myself, my belly shaking, but she swings her leg over me. My heart stutters in my chest.

She straddles me, her palms flat against my stomach. “Okay, Santa, this Christmas I want…” She taps her lip with her index finger. “A new job and a boyfriend.”

“I’ll see what I can do, angel.” It takes all my strength to keep my hands at my side. If I let them wander onto her legs, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop them from climbing up her thigh.

She bounces against my groin and giggles, the sensation making my dick twitch.

Scooping up more snow, I throw it at her chest, making sure I don’t hit her face, but I need to get her off of me. When she freezes and sucks in a breath, I know she’s felt my growing dick between her thighs.

I grab hold of her ass and lift her, rolling her onto her back. I hover at the side, my face inches from hers. It would be so easy to lean down and steal a kiss. If she were anyone else, I wouldn’t hesitate.

The way she parts her mouth and licks her lips tells me she feels this too. Whatever this is between us. Is it just two lonely people desperate for a human connection? That must be it. There’s no way this angel sees anything in me. I’m over twenty years older than her. Old enough to be her dad. I’m a sick fuck, that’s what I am.

“If you want Santa to bring you a gift this year, you have to promise to be a good girl.”

Her blue eyes gaze up at me. “I’ll be good, Santa.”

I push myself away from her and drop onto my back with a groan, needing some distance between us, and will the thoughts from my head. Taking care of myself is a struggle, let alone another human being. I’ve nothing to offer her. Not even a home.

But somehow, she makes me want to do better. Put down roots and build a stable life just so I can take care of her. Flakes of snow hit my face as I stare up at the sky, the sun peeking through a gap in the grey blanket, like a ray of hope for my miserable life.

“Let’s make snow angels.” She moves her arms and legs out and in again, making a shape on the ground.

I do the same, our arms and legs touching.

“I used to do this with Mum.” She sticks her tongue out, licking the flakes from her lip. “When we would stay at the cabin, we’d come out here and build snowmen. She’d bring a flask, and we’d have hot chocolate in the treehouse.”

“Is the treehouse still going strong?” More flakes stick to my beard.

“I haven’t been in it for a couple of years, but you and dad built it to last. It’ll still be there when I have children.”

“Do you want kids?”

“Of course I do. Don’t you?”

“Dunno really. I’ve never been with a woman long enough to think about settling down with them.” I dust the snow from my beard. It’s getting a bit late for me to be thinking about a family. Most women I date come with a ready-made one, mainly moody teenagers who hate my guts.

“Is that why you’ve never married?” She lifts onto her elbow, her rainbow scarf covered in snow.

“I’ve seen too many marriages end in divorce to buy into the fairy tale.” I need to make a home for myself first before I can even think about settling down with someone when I have nothing to offer.

“So you don’t believe in marriage?” Her blue eyes are full of questions.

I stifle a laugh. “I can’t even commit to a gym membership, let along a marriage contract.” Most of my life, I’ve been a flitter, just crashing with whoever the flavour of the month is. I’ve never had a place to call home, never even wanted one before.

But I’d do it for my angel.

OceanofPDF.com

7

ANGELICA

“Itold you it was too big.” I giggle at the enormous tree Sawyer cut down, which only just fits in the cabin.

“What’s that phrase?” Sawyer stands at the top of the ladder, tangled in Christmas lights. “Go big or go home?”

“You definitely have a big one.”

“You’re not the first person to notice.” He quirks a grin and my cheeks flush at the innuendo. “Sorry, that was below the belt.” His shoulders shake with a silent chuckle.

I cover my face with secondhand embarrassment. “Enough with the dad jokes.”

“I hope your dad doesn’t make jokes like that.” He chuckles as he works his way down the ladder, weaving the lights around the tree as he goes.

“You’re in a merry mood this afternoon. Careful or people might think you’re enjoying yourself.” I open another box of Christmas ornaments, each one filling me with nostalgia.

Sawyer reaches the bottom of the ladder with a shrug. “Must be your incessant holiday spirit rubbing off on me.”

A smile pushes my cheeks up. “It’s good to see you laughing.”

He walks over to a box of ornaments and lifts a bauble with a Victorian scene. “These are a bit dated, aren’t they?”

“They’re vintage. A bit like you.” I stifle a giggle.

“Is that your way of saying I’m old?” His eyes narrow in mock anger.

“I said no such thing. Here.” I shove another bundle of lights into his arms. “You can make yourself useful again and string more lights on the tree.”

“More lights?”

“It’s Christmas.”

“It’s Blackpool Illuminations is what it is.”

“Don’t be a grouch.” I swat his chest. “How come you don’t like Christmas?”

He shrugs a shoulder as he climbs the ladder and strings more lights. “After Mum walked out on us, Dad was always working and never had time to deck the house up.”

“Is that why you haven’t decorated this place?”

He climbs down the ladder. “I didn’t see the point in decorating just for me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I showed up then.”

He peers over into the box as I lift out a clay ornament I made when I was eight. His lips curve upwards.

“I spent hours making this snowman.” I hold it up with the string hanging from a black hat.

“Is it supposed to look like it’s melted?”

I swat at his stomach, the fabric of his t-shirt stretched over his large frame.

He doesn’t flinch, as if he didn’t even feel my hand hitting him. His lips still curved, he picks up another handmade ornament. “Has this reindeer been hit by a truck?”

“I’ll hit you with a truck in a minute.” I grab hold of a bunch of fake sprigs and stand to whack the smirk from his face.

He grips my wrist before I get close. The sprigs hang between us, inches from his face. His eyes widen and he sucks in a breath as his gaze flicks between me and the decoration.

White berries cluster between oval leaves, the fake sprigs wrapped in a red ribbon.

Mistletoe.

My heart rate accelerates. Our eyes lock. My mouth parts as I will his lips to meet mine. I rise on my tiptoes, hoping he’ll take the hint, my palm resting on his chest for balance, and he grips my other hand in his large mitt, his fingers rough on my skin, sending a flurry of tingles racing up my arm.

As I gaze into his eyes, I see all his dark desires that mirror my own lust-fuelled thoughts. Could he want me like I want him? Until recent events, I thought he saw me as a child, but there’s no denying the heat in his eyes.

He clears his throat, breaking the magic of the moment. “You may as well put that back in the box.” He lets go of my wrist, looking away and turning his back to me.

My chest caves as my lungs deflate. Shoulders curling inwards, I sag like a melting snowman. I toss the sprigs back into the box, knowing it’s for the best. My father would probably have a mental breakdown if he came back from Scotland to find me shacked up with Sawyer. After everything he’s been through, the last thing I want to do is put him under more stress, especially when Sawyer’s been his rock these past few years, but he’s also been my rock since I was a little girl. A constant in my life and someone who I can tell anything to.

“Hey look at this.” Sawyer holds up an old painting of mine from art college. “That should go on the wall.”

I roll my eyes, no longer in the mood for his teasing. “Very funny.”

“What?” His brow pinches. “I’m serious. Look at the detail on those horses and how the trees reflect in the frozen lake.”

“It’s not that good,” I say, knowing I was never as good as some of my peers, which is why I went into art history instead of the creative side.

“Nonsense. To say you’re a curator, yet you don’t know talent when you see it.” He stands the A3 board on top of the mantle below Blitzen the deer.

He may as well know the truth. “I’m not a curator.”

“Art handler then, or whatever you want to call yourself.” He straightens the picture, stands back as if admiring my work.

I wrap my fingers around the key at my neck for courage, though I’ve always felt like I can tell Uncle Sawyer anything, I just hope he keeps my secret from Dad. “The closest I got to handling the art was with a feather duster when I cleaned in the evening.” My voice wobbles as confusion mars his features.

“They made you work into the evening?”

“My job started in the evening when the museum closed. I was a cleaner, Sawyer. I worked for a cleaning agency. I never worked for the National Gallery or in the offices or anything.”

His eyebrows pull together. “But your dad said⁠—”

“I lied.” Shame makes my neck itch, my chest heats as if the guilt is seeping out of me. “I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to prove to him I’m not a little girl anymore, and that he doesn’t need to put his life on hold to take care of me any longer, but the only jobs I got were waiting tables or cleaning.”

“Angel. Why didn’t you say something?” Sawyer steps closer, wrapping me up in his arms.

I inhale the pine scent of him from the woods and the trees, rubbing my face against his t-shirt like a cat rubs themselves in their favourite scent. “I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. Dad was always telling me how proud he was of me. But I hated it.”

He cups my face. “If I’d known that, I would’ve driven down there and brought you home myself. You’ve nothing to prove, not to your dad or anyone.” He dips his head to meet my gaze. “Besides, there’s plenty of cleaning jobs up here. You can start by cleaning up the kitchen.” His lips quirk into a smile.

I swat his chest, but let my hand linger there for a moment. “You know what the worst part is?”

“You suck at cleaning?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, but also that I got fired.”

“You were never going to be employee of the month at a cleaning job. Let’s be real. You’ve only been here a few days and your bedroom is resembling a Tracey Emin exhibit.”

“You know of Tracey Emin?” I raise an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.”

“I know a lot about art, angel.” He holds my shoulders, keeping me at arm’s length. “Now put your artistic skills to good use and decorate this tree. I want to sit down tonight.”

“The festive cheer didn’t last long. You’re back to being grouchy.”

He points his thumb at his chest. “Me? Grouchy?”

My lips lift in the corner, knowing despite his lack of Christmas spirit, he’s doing all this for me. I walk around him to the tree and hang the deer that looks like it’s been in a roadkill accident. “I’m going to need to go to town before Christmas Day.”

“I can get you whatever you need. It’s not safe out there.” He hangs the Victorian bauble on his side of the tree, the snow coming down heavier beyond the large bay window.

“Well, you can’t exactly drive a motorcycle in this.” I search the area for another vehicle, but there’s nothing, only my Suzuki at the side of the cabin.

“I’ll walk. It’s not too far.” He hangs another ornament on the tree. “Just tell me what you need.”

“Are you going to pick out your own Christmas gift?” I look around the tree and raise an eyebrow.

“You mean you haven’t bought me something already?” His tone mocking, he places his hand on his chest as if I’ve wounded him.

“I didn’t think I was going to see you. With Dad not being here, I⁠—”

“I’m kidding. I don’t care for gifts, you know that. And besides, there’s nothing I want other than to keep you safe. So don’t get any notions about going into town. Last thing I want is you slipping and breaking your neck and me having to call your dad.”

“All right, I won’t go into town. I’ll just have to bake you some cookies or something for Christmas.”

“Now that’s a gift I would like. I can’t resist your cookie.” He clears his throat. “I mean your baking.” He mutters, “for fuck’s sake” under his breath, barely audible, but I sense the frustration and desire rolling off him in waves.

My cheeks heat with the same need pulsing through me. Almost certain now these feelings aren’t just one way.

As I climb the ladder with the Christmas star in my hand, he stands behind as if ready to catch me if I fall, just like he’s always been there for me. Ready to catch me on the swings, or while riding my bike for the first time, and even now when I’ve told him the truth about my failed attempt at being an adult, there’s no judgement, only love.

Placing the star on the top of the tree, I make a silent wish, shutting my eyes tight. I may have told Sawyer I want a boyfriend and a job for Christmas, and maybe he can’t deliver those, but he could help me with something else I’ve been desperate for.

Sawyer’s been there for many firsts in my life. It seems right that he should be the one to give me my first sexual experience. He flicks the switch on the extension lead, lighting up the star.

Tingles course through my body like I’m wired in to the electrics as well, lit up like the Christmas star as my centre pulses with thoughts of him taking my virginity.

The ladder wobbles beneath my unsteady feet as I feel like I’m floating on a cloud, my body thrumming with the zing of pleasure.

“Steady.” His hands grip my hips, heat radiating from his palms, intensifying the hum in my body.

With shaky limbs, I climb down from the ladder, bringing my head out of the clouds, and ground myself. It was a nice fantasy while it lasted, but that’s all it will ever be. I remind myself he wouldn’t even kiss me under the mistletoe, let alone anything else.

“Ready for the big switch on?” He hands me the lights plug and the extension lead. “You do the honours.”

I take it and insert the male into the female and look up at the tree, expecting to see the multitude of coloured fairy lights. Only it’s lacklustre. Only a few bulbs work on the string, lighting up the room like single bursts of hope between dark depths of despair. It’s a metaphor for my life.

Sawyer chuckles at the side of me. “I guess we should have plugged them in before decorating the tree.” He looks up at the ceiling where the star shines brightly atop the huge tree. “At least the star works.”

I pad from the shower into my bedroom with the towel wrapped around me, barely meeting in the middle, and I drop onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling while I air dry. Grabbing my phone from the bedside table, I tap the screen and listen to my Taylor Swift playlist.

My mind wanders back to earlier with Sawyer. I know I felt something when we were in the snow. I’ve straddled him like that many times growing up. Memories of bouncing on his belly like a bouncy castle come rushing back to me, but today, when I straddled him, it was different. He felt different, and there was definitely something between us. And I’m not talking about the bulge I felt between my legs. There was chemistry.

After decorating the tree, I felt that spark again, igniting something in me. I rub at my chest. Where there was a desolate emptiness is now hope blossoming like the white petals of a snowdrop flower after a winter frost.

My nipples pebble beneath my palm. Tingles bloom in my centre at thoughts of him wanting me like I want him. I close my eyes as the towel falls away, and I slide my hand over my soft stomach and lower, to stroke the short patch of hair on my private area, imagining it’s his hand.

I stifle a moan from my lips, knowing he’s downstairs cooking dinner, but I can’t stop touching myself. His voice in my head whispers sweet but filthy things to me, things I wonder if he would actually say like let me kiss your pussy, angel, in that deep gruff voice of his.

My hand isn’t enough. I need more. Discarding the towel, I kneel on the bed, holding onto the headboard as I straddle Mr. Snuggles, the teddy he bought me years ago. The fur between my legs tickles and I imagine it’s his beard as he kisses me down there.

Heat courses through my body, my centre weeping as I slide it along the fur. The button nose slipping between my folds and finding my sensitive spot sends an electrical current up my spine.

I bounce up and down on the teddy, the mattress helping to get a rhythm going. My breasts jiggle with each bounce. In my head, Sawyer’s still kissing between my legs, but I need more. There’s an ache deep inside that intensifies the more I get myself off and the more I deny myself the full penetration I crave.

Other than in textbooks and a video on how babies are made in school, I’ve yet to experience any type of intercourse with a man. I’ve never even used a tampon. The stories of toxic shock syndrome were enough to deter me. But the more I touch myself lately, the more my body aches for something deep inside.

But it doesn’t ache for just anyone. It aches for him. Sawyer, the man I call uncle. My centre tingles as the button nose hits my sensitive spot again. I bounce faster, desperate for a release. My hands grip the velvety texture of the pink headboard. Taylor blasts through my phone and I bounce to the beat of the music, lost in my own world as I climb the mountain, desperate to reach the summit.

My body shudders with the sensations of the teddy between my thighs, riding it as if it was Sawyer’s face. I’m so close. My head rolls back, my back arches. “Uncle Sawyer,” I whimper under my breath, wishing it really was him getting me off. “I’m almost coming.”

Hairs prickle all over my body as a cool breeze swathes my skin. I flick open my eyes just as Sawyer enters the room.

His eyes widen, his face draining of colour.

I jump off the teddy, my head light and dizzy. Everything in slow motion, other than my racing heart, which is the only thing sped up. My knee doesn’t land back on my single bed, it misses completely, falling to the floor, dragging the rest of my body with it and crashing into my bedside table. The lamp lands on my head and then everything blacks out.

OceanofPDF.com

8

SAWYER

“Angel,” I say, wondering if she can hear me with her music on.

“Uncle Sawyer,” her muffled voice sounds through the wooden door.

“Dinner’s ready.” I train my ear to listen to what she says next.

“Come in.”

Swinging open her door, I freeze on the spot as she bounces on the bed, panting breathlessly.

Her naked body before me in offering. Her flushed face comes into view as she faces me and opens her eyes. It all happens so quickly. Too quickly. The teddy squished between her thick thighs springs free as she jumps from the bed, clattering on the other side as she crashes against the bedside table.

Fuck.

“Angel?” I stride into the room and jump over her single bed. Blood trickles down her temple as I cup her face in my palms. “Angel, talk to me.”

Her eyelids open to reveal her beautiful sky-blue irises. She glances around and looks down at her naked body. “Oh my gosh.” Her arm reaches onto the bed as if searching for something.

“Are you hurt? Angel, talk to me.” My heart pounds against my chest. I have my girl naked before me, but I push all thoughts aside. My dick can think about her naked body later. All I care about now is her and if she’s hurt.

Her eyes flash to mine, this time laced with fear. “I’m naked.”

“I don’t care about that. You think I haven’t seen a naked woman before? You’re bleeding.”

She looks down at her body as if she’s trying to figure out where. She winces as she bends her knee.

My hands glide down her leg until I reach the graze on her knee with a small gash and bruise, but I’m more worried about the cut on her head. “Can you get up?”

She nods, wincing as she tries to stand, but fails and drops back against the bedside cabinet. “I’m dizzy.”

“Let me help you.” I slip my arm around her waist, my other hooked under her legs, and lift her onto the bed. “Wait here.” I walk into the bathroom, open the cabinet, and grab the first aid kit.

“I’m so embarrassed.” She’s wrapped the towel around her body, but it doesn’t quite cover her belly. Her palms hide her face, her wet hair hanging limp around her shoulders, one side angelic and the other dark and dangerous, like a temptress taunting me.

“Don’t worry about it.” I kneel in front of her and pull her hands away from her flushed face.

She gasps when she sees the blood on her fingers.

“You’ve cut the side of your head.” I press a cotton pad against her temple.

She wipes her shaky hands on her towel. “Is it bad?”

“No, but I’m more worried about concussion.” I clean the blood from around the wound, and open a box of plasters and place one over her small cut. “You might have some bruising tomorrow.” My hands roam over her shoulders and down her arms, searching for any more injuries.

“My knee hurts.” She flexes her leg, wincing as she straightens it, then bends it again.

I hold her calf in my hands as I inspect the graze. Her smooth skin is like silk beneath my palms and I want to slide my hand higher between her thighs, aware that she’s bare.

Unable to control my eyes, they flick to the sliver of flesh on her belly where the towel doesn’t quite meet, then the crease where her belly touches her thighs, keeping her modesty. As much as I love her curves, I desperately want to see her bare pussy, like a piece of buried treasure that I need to dig for, and I want to explore that crevice with my tongue.

Willing myself to focus back on her knee, I kiss the graze just like I would when she was a little girl, only now I want to kiss all the way up her thigh.

She sucks in a breath at the contact, her body shivering. Our eyes meet. Her chest rises and falls beneath the towel clutched at her breasts.

“I think you’ve just bruised it. Just rest and hopefully it should be better tomorrow.” I stand before my hands or lips take on a mind of their own. My dick’s already hard as a fucking rock, thinking he’s getting some. I hate to disappoint the lad, but there’s no way I can go there with Colin’s daughter. Even if she was calling my name.

My palm runs over my face as I stifle a groan. I only came up to tell her dinner was ready. “Fuck. I left the dinner on.” I dash out of the room and take the stairs two at a time as fast as my long legs will carry me.

I pull the food from the oven, praying it’s not ruined. I wanted to make something nice for her, to make her feel like she’s at home like when her mother was alive, but all I’ve managed to do is embarrass the lass and probably give her concussion. It wouldn’t surprise me if she stays in her room.

Steam rises from the tray of food like the rising heat in my cheeks as I rough a hand over my face, wondering how I can put things right.

“Is it okay?” Her soft voice says behind me.

I relax my shoulders at the soothing tone, glad she’s made it downstairs. “It’s a little burnt around the edges, but it’ll be fine.” I grab a ladle from the utensil rack and serve up the shepherd’s pie, another one of Tesco’s finest, but I did add some cheese to the top.

Angelica sits at the breakfast bar, her face still crimson, matching her pyjamas, her head faced down while she tugs the cuff of her sleeve.

Clearing my throat as if trying to clear the tension in the air, I slide her plate over to her, then open the drawer to get her cutlery.

“Thank you.” Her voice is barely a whisper, like a mouse, as she gingerly takes the knife and fork from me and sinks back into her slumped position before she’s caught in my trap.

I sit across from her, taking the same position I always do. Snow settles against the window like the perfect picture postcard outside, but in here, the atmosphere is frosty despite the heating being on full blast.

I clear my throat again before taking a mouthful of the potato and mince. Anything to cut through the silence. “How do you feel?”

She doesn’t look up at me. With her face down, staring at her dinner, she twirls her fork around the plate. “I feel sick.”

I drop my fork onto the plate, causing a clatter as I stand from the stool and grab her a glass of water. Walking around to her side of the breakfast bar, I hand her the water. “Have a drink.”

She does as I ask, then places it on the counter with a trembling hand.

I gently tilt her chin to get a good look at her pupils.

She moves her head away from me and looks down.

“What’s wrong? Is it the light? Does it hurt to look at the light?” I glance back out the window at the snow piling up, wondering how the hell I’m going to get her to the hospital in this. I left the pickup at the building site and there’s no way her car or my motorbike can get anywhere in this.

I pull her face back to mine. “Tell me, angel, are you still dizzy? Blurred vision, headaches?”

“I’m fine. I only feel sick with embarrassment. I don’t have a concussion.” Her cheeks glow red under the kitchen lights.

Sitting back on the stool, I let out an exhale, my shoulders relaxing a little. I dig my fork into the pie. “Everyone masturbates.”

She coughs, spluttering food from her mouth.

Fucking hell, now I’ve made her choke.

I round the counter and pat her on the back as she coughs again. “Get it up.” My palm rubs soothing circles on her back as she shakily takes another drink of water. I should just call it quits today and go to bed before I actually do some damage and really give her something to choke on. Since I saw her in the shower, I’ve thought of nothing but burying myself so deep inside her, I forget my own name.

“I’m all right.” She takes another drink and I reclaim my seat again.

“Sorry. I just mean, you don’t have to be embarrassed with me. It’s perfectly normal to touch yourself. I’ve done it many times. In fact, I rub one out every time I take a shower.”

Her eyes widen as she gazes up at me. “You do?”

“Well, sometimes.” A smile curves my lips. “I’ve never defiled a teddy bear before, though.”

She covers her face with her palms. “Oh my gosh. You saw that?”

A chuckle escapes as I scratch my beard, wishing it was my face she was riding instead of a fucking teddy bear. “You violated Mr. Snuggles.”

She bursts into a giggle, and I chuckle along with her. “Poor Mr. Snuggles.” Her palms press against her heated cheeks.

Poor Mr. Snuggles my arse. He’s a lucky bastard, that’s what he is. “He’ll never be the same again.” Another chuckle rumbles from my chest. “Does he need to go in the washer?” I raise an eyebrow, wondering just how desecrated Mr. Snuggles is.

“No, I just gave him a wipe.” The crimson in her cheeks is back with a vengeance. “I didn’t…you know.” She plays with her necklace. The aquamarine stone set inside the silver key matches the colour of her eyes.

Shit. All this time she’s been left hanging, unable to finish. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come in your room, but I knocked several times. Then I heard you say my name and…” I run a hand over my face. Shit. I’ve said too much.

“I didn’t say your name.” Her voice wobbles, then she swallows as if she’s gulping down a Christmas bauble.

“My mistake. I thought I heard you say come in.” I don’t want her to feel embarrassed any more than she already does, so I’ll gladly go along with the lie. But I know she definitely said my name. “You must have just said you were coming, or something…”

“Can we not talk about it? I just want to forget the whole thing.” She moves the food around her plate again.

“Sure. It’s already forgotten.” That memory will never be forgotten. Her bouncing tits with my name on her lips will live in my head rent-free for eternity. And I’ll be playing that back like a movie reel on a loop the next time I take a shower.

I smile at her to reassure her, but I shouldn’t be here. I should’ve gone the first night when I had the chance. Looking out at the dark night, the snow continues to fall, trapping me here with my sinful thoughts and the woman wet dreams are made of. It’s as if the devil on my shoulder is whispering that it’s okay to take what I want, but the angel on my other shoulder reminds me of who she is. My Angelica, my best mate’s little girl, only this girl is now a woman with a body that could make any man commit a crime in the name of love.

There’s no denying I love the lass. Always have, but the longer I’m forced to stay in this close proximity with her, the more I’m lusting after something I can’t have.

OceanofPDF.com

9

ANGELICA

“What’s that noise?” My brow furrows as a loud cranking sound comes from the utility room as if the cabin is groaning and grumbling about the cold snap we’ve been having.

“It’s the boiler. It’s been on the blink ever since I got here.” He pours coffee into my mug. “Want a drink?”

“Yes, please.” I chew on my nail. “It was making an awful sound when I was in the shower yesterday.”

“I’ll make sure there’s plenty of wood in case it packs up.”

“Could it pack up?” I gulp, looking out the window at the snow. The tyres on my car are no longer visible.

“It packed in before. I told your dad he needs to invest in a new one. This one’s about as old as you are.” He drinks the last of his coffee, then rounds the counter. “How are you, by the way? No headaches, blurred vision, vomiting?”

“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” I smile as I blow into my mug.

“How’s Mr. Snuggles holding up?” His smile reaches his eyes before he turns and exits the kitchen.

I follow him, holding my mug with both hands, warming them as I walk to the large glass doors, and watch in awe as he lifts the axe, then brings it down onto a large log, splitting it in two. He may be like a giant teddy bear and great for cuddles, but wielding an axe, he’s all man.

My body shudders as he brings the axe down on another log. I never knew I’d be so engrossed in someone chopping wood, but Sawyer has me hypnotised. The way he swings it around is like a warrior going into battle, only now the threat is an old boiler.

A smile curves my lips and he catches my gaze through the glass. My cheeks heat as they have done every time he looks at me since he caught me red-handed, or should I say caught in the act with Mr. Snuggles.

It wasn’t my finest moment. I couldn’t possibly have looked sexy, humping a teddy bear, fresh from the shower with limp, wet hair and no makeup.

But Sawyer has done his best to make light of it since. I just hope one day I can see the funny side, but I doubt it. I’m completely mortified. I should go to my room and hide there all day from pure shame and embarrassment, but I’m sure he’d drag me downstairs with him.

I sip on my coffee, inhaling the cinnamon sprinkles Sawyer added. My mind wanders back, trying to remember when I developed feelings for my dad’s best friend. It’s hard to know when I started crushing on him. A memory from my late teens pops into my head. I was at a party and I called him to pick me up because my parents were out of town.

A smile curves my lips, knowing that was the first and last time I ever had too much alcohol. Sawyer thinks someone spiked my drink, and he called his friend Shane to shut down the party. If he didn't have to take care of me, I'm sure he would have shut the party down himself. He held my hair back while I threw up, then stayed over and kept checking on me throughout the night. I guess I knew then that I wanted a man just like him who was attentive, caring, and able to take care of me like my daddy does.

He chops more wood, then wipes his brow with his sleeve. Gathering the logs into a basket, he brings them inside.

I stand to the side, letting him pass. “What time did you get up this morning?”

“Early. I couldn’t sleep.” He strides over to the fire, staring at Blitzen, the wooden deer on the wall. “What are you looking at?” he says to the deer, making me giggle.

“What did Blitzen ever do to you?”

“He gives me the creeps.” He drops the basket next to the open fire. “It’s like he’s watching me.” Sawyer turns around. “You don’t think your dad has a camera in there, do you?”

I shake my head with a laugh. “You’re crazy. Why would Dad put a camera in here to watch you sitting in front of the TV with your Tesco ready meal, drinking beer?”

He shrugs. “Fair point.” His hands clap and he rubs them together. “Get your coat on. I have a surprise for you.” He walks into the utility room, but turns back to me. “You might want wellies too.”

“Are we working on my dressing table?”

“We’ll do that later. First, I have something else in mind.”

I follow him into the utility and find my wellies on the shoe rack. I bend and pull on the rainbow-striped boots over my jeans, then grab my fleece coat from the hook. “Where are we going?”

Sawyer shrugs a pre-packed rucksack onto his back and then lifts another bag, which he carries in his hand. “You’ll see.”

Trudging through the snow is exhausting. I’ve only walked from the cabin down the lane at the side of the woods and I’m already out of breath. Snow settles on the fur of my hood and I stick out my tongue to feel the crisp flakes there, hoping it will cool my rising body heat from the extra layers Sawyer made me wear, and the exertion.

Sawyer looks over his shoulder. A red hue creeps up his cheeks from under his beard. “You all right back there?”

“Great. If I’d known we were walking down the lane, I’d have got the old sledge and had you pull me.”

He huffs. “Remember when I used to carry you on my shoulders?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t be able to do that now, though.” Snow creaks and compacts with every tread of my wellies, reaching my calf where the plastic of my boot is practically cutting off my circulation, telling me my legs a lot bigger than it was the last time I wore these.

“Because of your dad?” he says with a pinched brow.

I stop walking. “What’s my dad got to do with it?” My gloved fingers find the zip on my coat and pull it down, needing to cool a little from the exercise. “I meant because of my weight.”

He silently chuckles. A smile plastered on his nodding head as he continues to walk. “You think I can’t lift you because you’re carrying a little holiday weight? That’s cute.”

“Holiday weight?” I giggle. “Maybe it is holiday weight…accumulated from the last ten years. And I’d like to see you try.” I fiddle with the tassels on my scarf, hoping he accepts the challenge.

He lifts the bag in his hand, which is bursting with what looks like a blanket and camping equipment. “What am I, a packhorse?” Rolling his eyes, he hands the bag to me. “Here.”

I take the bag, then before I can say anything, I’m lifted into the air and thrown over his shoulder.

He turns into the woods and tracks between the trees. “Satisfied?”

I giggle as my head hangs over his shoulder, the bag in my hand weighing me down. “I’m getting dizzy.” The world has spun on its axis and I’m getting a different perspective from this angle. Mainly that Sawyer wants to show me how strong and masculine he is.

“I don’t care how many years it’s taken to achieve this body of yours, but it’s bloody perfect, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He thinks I’m perfect. I feel light as a feather in his arms, even if Sawyer is out of breath a little.

“I like you with some holiday weight, too,” I say.

He chuckles. “It’s hard work keeping this body, you know. I can’t tell you how many take-outs and poor decisions I have to endure to keep in shape.”

I laugh along with him. “Same.”

After a few more steps, his hands glide up my coat as he lowers me to the snow-covered ground like a pillow beneath my feet. His cold bare hands under my layers, make me shiver in a delightful way.

I spin around, faced with the treehouse. My smile pushes my cheeks up as he tugs at the ladder, checking it’s safe.

“After you.” He holds the bottom of the ladder as I climb up, the wood creaking with every step.

Opening the hatch, the musty, damp scent of moss and pine fill my senses. My arse cheeks clench as Sawyer places his hand there, as if giving me a nudge or trying to push me through the hatch. I can’t be sure which, but I crawl ungracefully into the gap and continue on my hands and knees along the cold wooden floor.

Everything is as I remember, only now it’s covered in cobwebs. Mum’s old blanket box sits below the window, melted candles moulded to the sill. The wind blows outside and the treehouse creaks and groans as if it’s waking up to our presence.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be,” Sawyer says, placing the rucksack and other bag onto the floor before squeezing his large frame through the small hatch.

I sit on the blanket box as Sawyer grabs a picnic rug from the bag and lays it out on the wooden floor. Inside the rucksack is a flask and mugs and biscuits.

He gets more camping equipment from the bag and lights a small gas heater. The heat warms my face, reminding me of all the times I’d come here with Mum when we’d stay at the cabin in the winter months.

“Hot chocolate?” He lifts the flask and two tin camping mugs.

My eyes swell with happy tears as I nod. I want to crawl over to him and climb into his lap, kiss his cheek and bask in his warmth for doing this for me.

Hot cocoa wafts around the small wooden space and I inhale, soaking up the delicious aroma that takes me back to my childhood. We might be in the middle of a snowstorm with no contact with the outside world, but I’ve never felt more safe with Sawyer, and right now is probably the happiest I’ve been for a long time. With him, I can just be myself.

“Thank you.” I take the hot mug from him, holding it between my palms and letting it warm my hands. “For all of this.”

He shrugs a shoulder as though it’s nothing. “I had to do something.” He quirks a grin. “I haven’t got you a Christmas gift either.”

I lean over and swat his thigh as he kneels on the picnic rug, but I really just like to touch him and feel close to him. A shiver tingles my spine, making my body shudder.

“You warm enough?” He shuffles around, opens the blanket box and pulls out a few cushions and a crochet blanket. Stretching his legs out and leaning against the wall with a cushion behind his back, he pats the other cushion at the side of him next to the heater. “I’ll keep you warm.”

With my drink in hand, I shift over to him and park my bottom on the pillow. His arm stretches around my back, cushioning me from the wooden surface of the wall. I lean my head against him, soaking up his scent, a mix of pine and something that’s just him. “This is nice.”

His thumb moves up and down my arm, the movement barely noticeable over my thick padded coat, but it’s there, and somehow I feel it in my stomach.

“Why have you never settled down?” I sip on my drink, waiting for him to answer. “I mean married or had kids. You know.”

He lets out a long sigh. “I told you, I don’t believe in marriage.”

I bristle in his arms. “How come?”

His large mitt runs over his face. “Because relationships don’t last. Sooner or later, someone leaves.”

“Not if you meet the right person. My parents⁠—”

“Your parents were made for each other, yes, but look how that ended. It almost broke your dad.” He removes his arm from around my back and reaches over to where he left his drink. “Thank god he had you to focus on.”

“So you never get attached for fear of getting hurt?” I sip my hot chocolate as it becomes clear why every relationship he’s ever had never lasted longer than a year.

He leans back against the wall with a groan. “What are you, a shrink now?”

“Just because your mother left, you think all women leave.”

Raising his mug, he nods to me with a chuckle. “You’ve missed your calling.”

“Stop making jokes. I’m serious.” I place my mug on the floor and turn sideways to face him. “Maybe if you let people in, they wouldn’t leave.” I’m not sure why I’m saying this. The last thing I want him to do is get married. I remember when he’d bring a woman round to the house for a drink with my parents. Seeing him with someone made me jealous as hell, but it also solidified the fact that he was off-limits.

I need that grounding now. I need to remember there’ll never be anything more between us, so I can stop fantasising about him and maybe move on.

“What about you, anyway? You can’t talk. I’ve never known you to have a boyfriend.” He grins again. “Or a girlfriend.”

He’s right. All this time, I’ve been guilty of not letting anyone in, but not because I’m scared of commitment. The realisation hits me in the face like a snowball. It’s because nobody was him.

OceanofPDF.com

10

ANGELICA

“I’ll put dinner on while you’re in the shower.” I flick my damp hair over my shoulder and roll up my pyjama sleeves.

“You’re going to cook?” He raises an eyebrow.

I swat his belly. “I’m more than capable of cooking. Besides, anyone can heat up a Tesco ready meal.” Opening the fridge, I slide out two portions of Tesco’s finest lamb hotpot. “What is it with you and ready meals, anyway? You bought enough here to see you through to New Years.”

He scratches the back of his neck, his checked shirt riding up to reveal the trail of hair below his belly. “They had an offer on. Thought I’d stock up and it’s a good job I did, or we’d be on rations now I’m having to share with you.”

I nod, my eyes fixed on the hair that disappears under his jeans.

He clears his throat, drawing my attention back to his face. “What was the shower like? The boiler was making a racket.”

“The water was hot, but the pipes were groaning some.” I spin around and turn the oven on as Sawyer climbs the stairs.

The ceiling creaks as he shuffles around upstairs. “Arggh. Angelica,” he groans from the top of the stairs. “Did you use all the clean towels?”

My nose scrunches. “Sorry,” I holler.

“Would it hurt to clean up after using the bathroom?” He shouts but there’s a hint of smile in his voice.

I grimace, remembering I left my clothes on the bathroom floor. “Sorry. Towels are in the dryer. I’ll pop some outside the bathroom for you.”

“Thanks.” He clicks the bathroom door and then the shower turns on.

I meander into the utility and open the dryer, the boiler clanking from behind a cupboard. There’s a strange pumping sound, then pipes clink together. Something is definitely not right with the heating system.

After bundling the dry towels into my arms, I carry them into the kitchen to the worktop where I fold them. The aroma from the lamb hotpot fills the room.

Before Sawyer gets out of the shower, I pad up the stairs in my slippers and bend to place the pile of freshly laundered towels outside the bathroom door. As I straighten my body, a growl sounds from the other side of the door.

I suck in a breath and hold it there while I train my ear to the sounds coming from the bathroom. My palms rest against the wooden door, the side of my face pressed against the grain.

Tapping of water droplets against the shower floor is soothing, like rain on a windowpane. “Mmmm. Fuck. Just like that, baby girl.”

His words have me in a chokehold. I lean against the door, needing to hear more. It clicks open. Causing me to jerk myself backwards.

He groans again, oblivious the door is now ajar.

I peer through the small gap, sliding to the floor until I’m on my knees. Steam billows around the room, fogging the shower screen, but I can see his silhouette behind the glass. One hand on the tiled wall and the other beating his erection as if he’s whipping up a bowl of cream.

“Angel,” he groans, tilting his head back under the spray of the shower head.

My eyes widen. I slip my hand into my pyjama shorts and touch my aching centre. My breaths come out in short bursts as my hand trembles and my heart races with all the naughty thoughts rushing through my head.

“Fuck. You feel so good, angel.” His hand jerks slow as his hips take over, thrusting into his palm, bracing himself against the wall with the other. He groans out in pleasure, then places both hands on the tiles as he drops his head low, letting the water hit his back.

I’m wet. Drenched, as my fingers slip between my folds. I’ve never seen a man do that before. He wants me. I rub circles around my little bundle of nerves, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. I need more. I need him inside of me. I need to know what it will feel like to have a man inside of me.

After today, I realise he’ll never settle down. He’s not the marrying type. But that’s okay. I just need him to fuck me. They say you always remember your firsts and I want it to be him.

The shower turns off, but the pipes don’t stop banging. I whip my hand out of my pyjamas before I’m caught red-handed again. And I’m left on the cusp of orgasm. Again.

He steps out from behind the glass cubicle, still hard. He’s a big boy in more ways than one, with some serious muscles underneath his chunk.

I gulp at the size of his erection, my mouth watering, wishing it was me gripping him like he imagined. I’m mesmerised by it as I follow the blue vein all the way to the glistening tip.

As he walks towards the door, I don’t have time to get to my feet, so I lift the towels to hide the flush in my cheeks.

The door creaks farther open. “For fuck’s sake.” He steps behind the door, with just his head peering round the wood.

“Towels,” I squeak out.

“Thanks.” He grabs one from the top of the pile, then closes the door.

I want to tell him everyone masturbates for a joke, but I gingerly creep down the stairs, too much of a coward to let him know I watched. Half of me is afraid of the embarrassment and the other half is afraid of what he might do if he knew I liked it.

Back in the kitchen, I check on dinner. The boiler is now completely silent, and I wonder if it’s sorted itself out.

Sawyer appears in the kitchen, rubbing his damp hair with a towel. “Smells good.” He walks past me into the utility to the washing machine. “Fuck.”

I turn the oven off and follow him. “What is it?”

He’s staring at the boiler, holding the cupboard door open. “It’s completely knackered.” He clicks a switch on and off, and nothing happens.

“Could it be a fuse?” I tug on the sleeve of my pyjamas, part of me worried I’m going to freeze to death, the other part of me—the bottom half—hoping I can snuggle in Sawyer’s bed.

“Serve dinner. I’ll test the fuse.” He brushes past me in the doorway and my nipples pebble under my top. Maybe it’s not just my bottom half that’s glad the boiler has given up. It’s definitely two-thirds of my body.

With no heating to keep the rooms warm upstairs, the temperature dropped dramatically after dinner. Sawyer positions the double mattress from the guest bedroom onto the rug in the living room in front of the fire.

“It’s like we’re having a sleepover,” I say as I place my duvet on the sofa.

“You can take the mattress. I’ll take the coach.” Sawyer arranges the pillows on the mattress, making it look inviting.

“Why don’t we both sleep on the mattress? There’s plenty of room.”

He scratches his beard as if thinking about it.

“We can keep each other warm.” I bite my lip, looking around at the tiny sofa. “Besides, you won’t fit on there.”

“All right.”

My stomach flutters at the thought of being wrapped up in his arms all night.

Sawyer stokes the fire and throws another log onto the embers. When he looks back at me as I climb into bed, I swear the flames are still dancing in his eyes. “I don’t own any night clothes.” He stands awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

I pull the duvet over my chest and make myself comfortable in front of the fire. “What do you usually wear for bed?”

“Nothing. Sometimes my boxer shorts.”

“I learned from Twilight that it’s better to be naked to keep each other warm.”

“Is that right? What else did you learn from Twilight?” He pulls the snaps on his shirt, popping the buttons in one full sweep like Superman when he changes into his costume, only instead of an S on his chest, Sawyer has a serpent, wrapped around a wilting rose.

A smile curves my lips and I turn onto my side, watching him strip down to his boxers. The hairs on his chest remind me of a grizzly bear, and Mr. Snuggles pops into my head. “I forgot to get Mr. Snuggles.” I rarely sleep without it.

“You won’t be needing your teddy tonight. You have me.”

My eyes widen as I gaze into his.

“Fuck. I mean…for snuggles.” He discards his jeans onto the chair, and crawls onto the mattress, pulling the duvet over him. “Unless you want to ride my beard like a saddle.” He chuckles, scratching the bristles on his chin and making my centre pulse.

I swat his chest, but my hand lingers, feeling the carpet of soft hair that tickles my palm.

He said it in a joking way, but I’d love to see his reaction if I took off my knickers and straddled his face. I chew on my nail, thinking of doing just that, but I could never. No man’s ever touched me down there with their fingers, let alone their mouth.

After a beat too long, he peels my hand away from his skin and holds it in his large mitt. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll walk to town tomorrow and get a part for the boiler.”

I nod and turn away from him, still holding his hand and pulling his arm over me. As I snuggle into him, my back to his warm chest, I hope the snow keeps falling so we can spend every night like this together.

His large hand rests on my stomach over my thick flannel pyjamas. I’ve never shared a bed with a man before, not even a boy. For once, I just want to feel what it’s like to have a man’s hands on my skin.

The last time I was groped was at the party when I was sixteen and it gave me the ick. Some random boy feeling me up. Probably the same boy who spiked my drink. I’ve never trusted anyone since to let them get close. But the truth is, I’ve never wanted to get close to anyone until now.

Probably why my dad thinks I’m gay. The thought has crossed my mind too, but the way my centre aches now for Sawyer, I’m definitely into guys, or maybe it’s just big, bearded papa bears I’m attracted to.

His minty breath fans the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. A gentle snore vibrates his lips and rattles his chest. It always amazes me how he can fall asleep so quickly. My dad is the same. After a day on the building site, he would often fall asleep in the chair after dinner.

I stare at the logs on the fire, glowing red and orange. The ornate black guard surrounding the hearth casts a shadow around the room. Patterns dance on the wall, mimicking how my heart flutters.

Lifting my pyjama top, I place my hand over Sawyer’s and hold his palm against the skin on my stomach. My breathing speeds up as my mind races. I shouldn’t be doing this to him while he sleeps. I violated Mr. Snuggles and now I’m taking advantage of Sawyer.

Even though I know this is so wrong, I still slide his hand up my pyjama top until his thumb grazes my underboob. My breath halts. Blood rushes to my centre. I’m still on edge from the other night when I was caught with Mr. Snuggles.

Maybe now Sawyer’s asleep, I can slip upstairs and finish the job, but I don’t want to move. Instead, I slide Sawyer’s hand over my breast. Tingles flutter over my skin where his calloused fingers graze my nipple.

The pulse in my neck throbs. My centre weeps, as if crying out for attention. My body thrums and vibrates with all the heat of an inferno, like I’m about to combust.

His thumb twitches, then moves of its own accord, grazing my pebbled nipple again.

I hold my breath. My hand freezes over his. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pretend I’m asleep, hoping he’s dreaming as he moves his thumb back and forth.

Then his large palm covers my full breast and squeezes gently.

I let out the breath I was holding, along with a hum of pleasure.

He pauses.

I coax his hand gently, squeezing over his, encouraging him to massage my breast again.

But he whips his hand away as if he’s just burned himself on a hot stove. “Angel, what are you doing?”

I curl up into a ball, not ready to face him, but it’s no use with him. There’s no hiding or shying away.

He rolls me onto my back and hovers above me, the rough pads of his fingers sweeping the hair from my face. “I’m sorry. I never meant to touch you like that. I was asleep and then⁠—”

I press my finger to his lips to silence him. “Touch me again,” I beg, my body desperate for more of him. “Please, Sawyer.”

“Angel, I—” He gulps, causing the apple in his throat to bob as he gazes into my eyes. “I can’t cross that line with you. I’m so fucking sorry I touched you like that.”

My entire body deflates as if the balloon of hope that’s been growing for the last few days has been popped. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I moved your hand to my breast. I’m sorry. I just wanted to feel your hands on me.”

His eyes widen as he gazes down at me. “But your father…he would⁠—”

I silence his lips again with my finger. “He would never need to know.”

His dark eyes turn to molten and he hovers above me, inches from my lips. “Angel,” he whispers, before his lips crash to mine and it’s everything I’ve craved.

I open my mouth, letting in his warm tongue as it tentatively strokes its way between my parted lips. My entire body tingles with pleasure when his hand makes contact with my stomach and slips under my pyjama shirt.

He deepens the kiss as if he can’t get enough of me and I arch my back, offering myself up for him to take whatever he wants. If tonight is all we have, then I want this to be memorable. My father may never know, but I’ll have these memories for a lifetime. Only, I’m not sure once with this man will be enough.

OceanofPDF.com

11

SAWYER

Ishouldn’t be touching her like this, but I can’t seem to stop myself. My hand fondles her breasts underneath her pyjama top, her nipple catching under my palm, sending electricity shooting up my limb and straight to my dick. With one hand, I roll her tits together, squeezing them both in my large palm.

I never knew a pair of tits could feel so good. But these aren’t just any tits, they’re hers. The one woman I crave and the only woman I can’t have. I break the kiss, coming up for air, and gaze down at the one thing I covet most in this world.

With gritted teeth, I silently tell my conscience to fuck off for once and let me just enjoy the moment. One more kiss, I tell myself as I dive back down to lick against her tongue, smooth and warm like my favourite Scotch. Only this girl isn’t aged. She’s fresh from the distillery.

Fuck. She’s too sweet for me, but I don’t stop licking her mouth, like a bear drawn to her honey. I can only imagine how her pussy tastes. As if something primal takes over, my body moves of its own accord.

I’m not sure I could stop it if I wanted to as my pelvis grinds against her hips, fucking the soft flesh there with only the fabric of our clothes between us. I need to be inside her sweet little cunt, but first I need to taste her, lick her creamy pussy and bury myself down there in her pot of honey.

“Sawyer. Touch me. Please.” She whimpers against my mouth.

“I am touching you, angel.” I kiss her cheeks, then her jawline, moving to her neck, wanting to kiss every inch of her skin.

“I mean down there. Make the ache go away.” She breathes heavily, her chest rising and falling beneath my palm, and I feel her heart racing.

“I’m working my way down there. Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” With no time to undo her pyjama buttons, I yank her top up, exposing her beautiful perky breasts. Her cherry nipples ready for the plucking.

My mouth waters at the sight, then I drop my head and swallow one up in my mouth. I swear I can taste sugar as I flick my tongue back and forth over the stiffened peak as if I’m licking a candied fruit.

Her back arches just as a sweet whimper parts her mouth. Damn, I wonder what she’ll sound like when I reach her pussy. I want to take my time, but I’m frenzied like a caged animal, and it’s feeding time.

Clamping my teeth down on her nipple, I tug at it, then suck and lick. “Damn, I can’t get enough of your tits, baby girl.” I move to the other one, giving it the same attention.

She moans as she lifts her hips. I know what she needs. Her plump little pussy needs some loving, and she’s gonna get the special Sawyer treatment tonight. I’m gonna bury my head between her thighs and kiss her sweet cunt. She’ll forget all about Mr. Fucking Snuggles. Tonight she’s gonna get a real bear and this grizzly’s famished.

“Does my angel need some attention on her pussy?” I reach my hand between her legs and stroke over the flannel material.

“Yes. Please, Sawyer.” She lifts her hips, meeting each stroke.

I kiss my way south, sucking at the soft flesh around the slit where her belly button hides.

Her legs tremble as I reach the Waistband of her pyjamas.

I pause. “Tell me you want this, baby girl. I need to know my angel wants her pussy licked.”

She pants out the word, “Yes.”

Curling my fingers under the elastic, I inch them down a little, my cock already leaking from the tip, making a fucking mess in my boxer shorts.

She trembles and whimpers. Lifting onto her elbows, she watches with panting breaths as I pull her pyjamas down another inch. Her tits exposed, peeking out from under her pyjama top, rise and fall with her heaving chest.

I kiss the top of her mound. A light dusting of hair tickles my lips and I inhale her delicious scent, cherry blossom shower gel mixed with her arousal. I kiss her again as I expose another inch. “I’m gonna eat you up, baby girl. Are you ready for me to devour your pretty plump pussy?”

She nods, wide-eyed, her lips parted as she gazes at me as if I’m the eight wonder of the fucking world, and after tonight, that’s exactly what she’ll think I am when I make her see stars. “I want you to give me all my firsts.”

I freeze.

The blood from my dick now rushing to my head as my mind swims, my conscience fighting through a thick haze of lust, screaming her words at me.

With my head hovering above her half-exposed pussy, I look up into her eyes again, hoping I didn’t just hear what I think I heard. “Firsts?”

“Yes. I’ve never done this before.”

My conscience claws at my neck, making me itch. “You mean no one’s licked your pussy before?”

She shakes her head no.

Fuck, she’s in for a treat. I let out a breath and dive back down, pressing my lips to her delicate soft skin beneath a dusting of hair.

She shivers at the contact. “I’ve never been touched before.”

I whip my head back up. “What do you mean?”

“Touched by a man.”

“As opposed to a boy?” My heart pounds in my chest as I scan her face for clarification.

“By anyone.” Her cheeks glow red, mirroring the heat of the fire.

“Angel, are you saying you’re a virgin?” I want her to say no, that this isn’t her first rodeo and we can carry on as we were, me getting high on her scent, taking my time with her sweet pussy and I can fuck her into Christmas, but another part of me wants to be her first, only my conscience won’t let that happen.

“If we’re not counting Mr. Snuggles, then yes.” She winces and looks away as if embarrassed by her own admission.

“Fuck.” I knew this was all too good. Just my fucking luck. I pull her bottoms up over her belly. Then tug her top over her breasts, fixing her back to how she was as if the last ten minutes never happened. “How is it you’ve kept hold of it this long?” My knuckles caress her rosy cheek as she looks away from me.

Her face turns to meet my gaze. “I never wanted anyone to touch me until now.”

My muscles burn as I hold myself back. A war rages in my head, my conscience fighting with the devil. Maybe one more kiss of her pussy. I tell myself I won’t go all the way. Just a lick, just one taste of her dripping cunt is all I need. But I know once I’m buried between her legs, I won’t be able to stop until we’re both satiated. There’s no way I can take her virginity. As much as I want to claim her. She’s too good for me. I’m the sinner and she’s the saint.

“What’s wrong?” she asks with a weak voice and a film of tears glazing over her eyes.

“I can’t do this. Not now I know you’re a virgin. I’m sorry, angel. I should never have touched you like that.” My palm runs over my face. I’m such a fucking wanker. She’s Colin’s daughter, for fuck’s sake. What the hell was I thinking?

All the colour drains from her face. She turns away from me, deflated, as if the life has been zapped out of her. Before I can speak, she’s on her feet and marching upstairs.

A door slams at the top of the stairs, making me shudder. I groan inwardly, knowing I’ve really fucked up this time. She’s half my age. I’ve no business in touching her, getting any notions of making her mine. She deserves so much better than me.

Blitzen, the fucking deer on the wall, glares at me with his all-seeing glass eyes. If her dad does have a camera in the wooden sculpture, I’m well and truly fucked.

Her cries drift down the stairs and as much I need to stay away from her, I won’t have her crying in her bedroom. “I know what you’re thinking.” I roll my eyes at the fucking deer.

With a groan, I stand and pull on my jeans and shirt, then slump up the stairs, each step like I’m carrying a lead weight on my feet. I use the bannister to pull myself to her, all the time, guilt pulling me back, weighing me down and causing my body to ache.

I rub the pain in my chest as I stand outside her bedroom door, listening to her sobs. “Hey.” I knock on the door.

“Go away,” she shouts.

I ignore her plea and crack her bedroom door open, my breath fogging in the cold room. “It’s freezing in here. Come back downstairs.”

She turns her head and looks at me with venom in her stare. “Are you going to fuck me?”

“No.” I fold my arms over my chest, standing firm, but it’s mainly so I don’t reach out and touch her, as every fibre in my being wants to give in to her demands and wrap her up in a bear hug and tell her everything’s gonna be all right.

“Then I’m staying here.” She turns away from me, facing the window, snow coating the bottom half of the pane.

“Stop being a brat and come downstairs. You’re going to freeze to death in here.” My fingers twitch to spank her behind as she ignores me, her arse sticking out after turning her back to me.

Her head whips around to face me. “If you’re not going to fuck me, then I don’t want to be in the same room as you.” Her tears have dried as she turns salty.

“You’re not too old to get a spanking,” I growl, then huff, thinking she’d probably like that. “Take the living room. I’ll stay in the guest bedroom.”

She turns around, her body shivering. “You’ll freeze.”

“I’m used to being in the cold. I think that’s for the best.”

OceanofPDF.com

12

ANGELICA

The hum of electrical machinery from the garage wakes me. I roll over to the crackle of logs on the fire. A sliver of light shines through the gap in the curtain, telling me it’s morning. Sawyer must have put more wood on first thing.

My shoulders sag at the memory of Sawyer and last night. The word virgin makes me recoil, knowing I’m probably going to be one forever. I drag myself out of bed and slump to the kitchen, my heart heavy and weighing me down. I need to talk to him and clear the air. If only I could understand why he changed his mind so quick. He went from ravishing me like a dog in heat to avoiding me as if I have gonorrhoea.

I tried so hard not to cry last night, but all I did was prove him right by acting like a little girl. After the last few days, I thought he was finally seeing me for the woman I am. Then I had to ruin it all by telling him I’m still a virgin.

My chipped nails tap against the counter while I wait for the kettle to boil. My nipples chafe against my flannel pyjamas, still swollen from last night. The ghost of his lips lingers on my mouth, making my centre tingle.

His kiss was so much better than I’d ever imagined a kiss could be. My fingers trace my lips, then my neck and collarbone, still itchy from his beard.

In a daze reliving the events of last night, I make two coffees, then take them through the utility room towards the door to the garage, past the boiler stripped down and in pieces. It’s a good thing Sawyer’s a registered plumber and electrician. Between him and my dad’s construction background, they make a good team building houses. My mouth parts as I open the garage door to Sawyer planing wood.

He lifts his head, turning the machine off, and pushes the safety glasses up, pulling his hair back from his forehead. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

I shrug a shoulder and hand him a mug of coffee. “I had to get up sometime.”

He nods as he takes the coffee. “Thanks.” He brings it to his lips, then places it onto a stack of wood.

“Can we talk about last night?” I hold the key necklace between my finger and thumb, my heart pounding against my ribs, but I try to remain calm and like an adult.

“No need. It won’t happen again.” He pulls the glasses down his face and goes back to planing. The noise has never bothered me before, growing up with my dad always tinkering in his workshop, but now the noise cuts through as if piercing my eardrums and shattering my skull.

My dressing table stands in the corner of the garage. We were going to fix it up today, but I’m not sure I can stand the awkward tension. I rub the throb in my temple and turn around before he sees the emotion warring on my features. Slumping back to the kitchen, I pour the coffee down the sink, feeling nauseous. But I refuse to cry. Instead, I think to myself. What would Taylor do?

She’d pull up her big girl pants and ignore him, probably.

I reach for my phone and put on my Swiftie playlist that always cheers me up while I make a start on breakfast.

Sawyer enters the kitchen, zipping up his sheepskin coat. “I’m heading into town. Clearwater Plumbing has the part I need for the boiler. Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you. Do you want some breakfast before you go?”

“I’ll grab something from town.” He doesn’t look me in the eye and walks out as quickly as he came.

Suddenly I’m no longer hungry. I place the frying pan back in the cupboard and head upstairs to change. The air is colder the farther up I climb. Without Sawyer’s warmth, everything feels icy like a frozen lake with no sign of life.

I turn my Swiftie playlist up and know what I have to do.

Staring into the mirror, I smooth my palms over the ruched fabric at my waist. Mum’s black dress looks rather flattering on me and I’ve aged by about five years. Any man who sees me in this will see that I’m a woman. Sadly, I don’t have any shoes that go with the little black dress, so my Dr. Martens will have to do.

I pull the curtain back and look down the lane, trying to gauge how deep the snow is. I could wear my wellies. And the thick wooly tights I’m wearing under Mum’s dress should keep me warm.

I can’t stay in this cabin another minute with Sawyer. Today hasn’t been too bad as he’s spent most of it in town and then in the utility room putting the boiler back together, refusing to look at me.

All this time, I’ve saved myself for him and now he won’t take it.

If he wants a more experienced woman, then that’s what I’ll be. I grab my bag and lift the strap over my head so it sits across my body, hanging at my waist, then make my way to the bottom of the stairs and lift my fleece coat from the bannister.

Holding on to the door handle, I contemplate leaving a note, but stuff it. He probably won’t even know I’m gone. He hasn’t cared to check in on me all day and refused to talk to me this morning.

I zip my coat up and trudge through the snow. The Black Crow’s only a thirty-minute walk, and I know the band will be playing tonight. My friend Teirney said they’ll be at the bar. The main roads have been gritted, so the usual crowd should be there. Toby was always flirting with me when we were in school. If I can’t get laid by one of the band members, then I’m sure there’s a biker who would help me out.

OceanofPDF.com

13

SAWYER

The day ran away with me. After town, I fixed the boiler, then confined myself to the garage. I didn’t need to sand down all the reclaimed doors, and I certainly didn’t need to work on a new ladder for the treehouse, but I needed something to keep me busy.

Seeing the disappointment in her eyes this morning almost killed me. I meant what I said when I told her it won’t happen again. It can’t happen again. She deserves so much better than me.

One day she’ll thank me. But until that day, it’s gonna take every ounce of strength I have to stay away from her. Kissing her last night has only made that task harder, like an addict getting their first hit.

When I step into the living space, Blitzen glares at me.

“Don’t give me that look.” I roll my eyes and breathe in the cold air, the fire’s nothing but ash. The cabin is cold and quiet, not even the sound of her music playing in her bedroom.

I’m reminded of what it was like before she came home, a shell of a cabin and somewhere to crash, but since she’s been here, this place felt alive like it did when her mother was here.

I need to make this right, but I don’t know how. From the first night, I should’ve stayed with Draven, given her the space she needed before we became too close. I can walk to the bar with my holdall, then come back tomorrow to check on her and make sure she has wood for the fire.

After packing a bag, I tentatively knock on her bedroom door. “Angelica.” I sigh when she ignores me. After avoiding her all day, I deserve that. “I’m gonna stay at Draven’s tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

I hold my breath, waiting for an answer. “Angel?” I open the door to a dark, empty room, my breath fogging from the cold. My heart thuds in my chest. I drop my bag and take the stairs two at a time, and open the front door. Her car’s still there, under a blanket of snow.

I dig my phone from my pocket and call her, each unanswered ring like a knife stabbing me in the temple. A cold sweat coats my skin, my mind filled with a hundred scenarios, all of them ending badly.

Pacing the hallway, her phone goes to voicemail another three times, then I notice her coat missing from the bannister. She could have gone for a walk, but she wouldn’t be out this late unless something had happened to her.

Fuck. I run out of the cabin, shouting her name, then training my ear for any sounds, but as I race around the cabin, calling out for my angel, the only reply is the whispers on the wind of rustling trees and the lapping of the water from the lake.

My heart plummets to my stomach like a stone dropping to the bottom of the lake. Dread fills my lungs as if I’m drowning. After her mother’s boating accident, she knows not to go near the water alone.

With nothing but the moonlight to guide me, I run down the wooden pier, my heaving breath fogging in the dark night air. Looking out at the lake shining like a sheet of ice under the stars, I search for any signs of her and call her name again.

I walk back up the pier towards the cabin, snow crunching under my boots as I tap her name on my phone. When I get hold of her, I’m gonna spank her so hard.

Sick with worry, I call Colin. If she won’t answer her phone for me, maybe she’ll answer for him.

He picks up on the third ring. “Hey, Sawyer, how’s things?”

“The boiler packed up, but I fixed it. Other than that, everything’s fine. Listen, have you heard from Angelica today?”

“No, why?”

“No reason. I was trying to call her and got no answer.”

“What do you want her for?”

“I was just gonna ask her if she wanted me to fix up her dressing table. You know, with the snow and being stuck in the cabin, I’m going mental, mate. Running out of things to do.” I give him a small huff of a laugh and try to mask the worry that’s twisting my gut. “Would you call her and ask her to call me?”

“Sure, but she’s probably partying with her friends. I’m sure she’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I don’t say anymore. There’s no point worrying him until I know anything for certain. “See you later, mate.”

“Yeah, text me. Let me know what I owe you for the boiler.”

“Will do.” I end the call and try her one more time, praying she answers. As I walk around the porch, the light from my phone highlights a dent in the snow, then another and another.

I follow the divots down the driveway, and onto the lane that leads to the country road. The pattern is covered over with fresh snow, but they’re definitely the pattern of someone walking.

Picking up the pace, I race down the lane, not even caring about the cold or the flakes hitting my face. All I care about is getting to her and checking she’s alive. Even if she hates me. I grit my teeth, knowing she’ll definitely hate me when I get a hold of her and spank the living daylights out of her ass.

If she wanted to go for a walk or had to go out, all she had to do was tell me. Damn it. I should have brought the pickup home the other day, then I’d be able to get to her a lot quicker.

I wonder if she’s at the treehouse, but the footsteps stay on the road. There’s only one place this leads to, and that’s town, but first she’d have to pass the Black Crow.

The rusty swing sign creaks above the door, a layer of snow clinging to the metal frame. The old building in the middle of nowhere looks like it’s from a Charles Dickens novel and I’m about to be confronted by the Ghost of Christmas Past.

I push the old wooden door open and step into the warmth of the bar. It’s quieter than usual tonight, but the Thursday punk band plays their usual set.

A bunch of kids around Angelica’s age dance to the music, but I don’t know any of them personally. I nod to Poppy behind the bar as I stomp towards her, the snow in my hair melting with the heat of the pub and running down my face like beads of sweat.

I rub a hand over my forehead, wiping the moisture away. “Have you seen Angelica?” I ask Heather, another barmaid.

“She was here earlier, hanging out with the band.” Heather points to the singer at the other end of the room.

I’m so incensed as to her whereabouts, I’ve every mind to step onto the makeshift stage, interrupt their set, and find out where she went, but before I do, I grab the arm of a local girl who I’ve seen in here before. Her long black hair sways as she turns around and her violet-haired friend yells at me to keep my hands to myself.

I hold them up in surrender. “I’m looking for Angelica. Have you seen her?”

The violet-haired girl pinches her eyebrows. “Who?”

“He means the girl with the two-toned hair who was hanging out with us,” the goth girl says, as if she’s bored with me already. “She went into the poolroom.” She points to the back of the bar where the games room is.

I weave through the small crowd, making my way to the back room. I push the door open and step through, acknowledging a few of my biker buddies and Colin’s neighbour, Dom, playing pool. “Anyone seen Colin’s lass, Angelica?”

“She was talking to that kid who hangs out with the Bennet brothers. She went out back with him,” Dom says

Incensed, I dash out of the building through the back door, kicking the metal bin that’s in my way. I scan the ground for any footprints in the snow, but there’s too many to know which are hers.

Voices sound from the car park. My ears strain to listen though the blood pulsing and thrashing in my head. My boots stomp around the building just as I see her getting into some guy’s fucking truck.

OceanofPDF.com

14

ANGELICA

“Touch her and die.” Is all I hear before Max is pulled from the truck and pushed up against the side, his face pressed against the window.

“Don’t hurt him,” I scream as I scramble out of the passenger seat and round the 4x4. “He was just giving me a ride home.”

“Yeah, I bet he was.” Sawyer’s jaw clenches, his eyes filled with rage like a fiery liquid ready to erupt.

I’m surprised he hasn’t burst a blood vessel with how angry he is.

“It’s true, man,” Max says, his face squashed against the window.

“Sawyer, let him go.” I tug on his arm, practically swinging on it, but the strength of this man is unyielding. “Please, Sawyer, just take me home.”

His eyes soften at my pleas, and he loosens his grip, stepping back from the truck. “If you’ve laid a finger on her, you’re a dead man.”

“I haven’t touched her, I swear it.” Max looks over at me. “Are you sure you want to go home with him?”

I nod. “I’ll be safe with him. He’s my uncle.”

Max doesn’t hang around for our family reunion, and jumps in his truck, starts the engine, and drives out of the car park.

Sawyer glares at me with a deadly gaze, a growl rumbling from the depths of his broad chest like a beast. “I’m not your fucking uncle and you’re far from safe with me, baby girl.” He grips my upper arm and leads me out of the car park, onto the path from where I came.

His tight grip on my arm aches, but my centre flutters that he’s here and showing more emotion than he has all day, even if it’s not the sort of attention I wanted from him, it’s attention at least.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls, stomping down the dirt road that leads to the lake and our cabin, dragging me by the arm as I canter to keep up.

“What are you doing? You avoid me all day, only to show up and drag me back home.”

“I didn’t know where you were. You weren’t answering your phone.” His grip tightens around my upper arm, pinching the flesh there.

“I came to the bar to take care of my problem.” I hiss the words with venom in my tone.

“What problem. If you have any problems, you should come to me.”

“I did, and you refused to solve it.”

He stops his long strides and turns back to face me. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you not wanting me because I’m not experienced enough for you. So I came here tonight to gain some experience. Maybe you’ll fuck me after I’ve done the rounds.”

His face pales under the moonlight. His hair turns white with the snow, but I’m sure I’ve caused him a few grey hairs from my statement alone.

“You let some fucker put their hands on you?” His face twists up into a snarl, as if he can taste the bitterness I feel.

“No.” My voice cracks. “Turns out I can’t even give it away. Nobody wanted me.” I turn my face away from his and trudge through the snow. If I weren’t so cold, I’m sure a tear would fall. My chest stings with the prickle of a thousand pins all hitting me at once. Emotions clog in my throat with the same ball of pins as I stifle a sob.

It was him I wanted, and he rejected me. I thought if I came here tonight, I could at least get a kiss from someone and make him jealous, but the way he looked at me just now was with such disappointment.

It’s the same look I got from my landlord when I told him I couldn’t pay the rent. It’s the same look I imagine I’ll get from my father when he learns of my lie about work, and no doubt the same look my mother has as she’s watching over me. I really hope she’s not watching over me.

Sawyer catches up to me and places a hand on my shoulder.

I shrug it off and continue to trudge through the snow with my head down to shield my face from the gaining wind and heavy snow.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing hold of my arm again.

“Leave me alone, Sawyer. You don’t have to act like you care just because you’re my dad’s friend.” I turn to face him, the wind whipping my hair around my face. “I get it. You’re not attracted to me. You see me as a kid. And maybe I am and maybe I will be a virgin until I’m forty, but at least I’m willing to open my heart to someone and commit. You’ll always be alone because you’re too afraid to let anyone in.”

He scratches his beard, staring at me with his dark penetrative eyes that see into my soul. “Are you done?”

I lift my chin, proud that I stood up to him, and hope I have the same courage when I have to face my father and tell him about my job. “Yes, I think so.”

The wind howls through the trees and the snow swirls all around us as if we’re in the middle of a snow machine on a disaster movie set, only this isn’t a movie.

Sawyer shields his eyes and points to the clearing in the woods that runs alongside the lane. “Let’s get to the treehouse,” he shouts over the gaining wind.

With his hand on the small of my back, he guides me into the woods. It’s hard to tell where exactly we are with the snow, but Sawyer takes my hand in his and weaves us through the overgrown foliage.

Under the canopy of trees the wind calms, but Sawyer doesn’t let go of me, clinging on to me as if fearing he’ll lose me if he lets go.

We reach the treehouse ladder and he says, “Get in.” It’s not a request, but an order, and I’ve had about as much of him bossing me around as I can take.

“You can’t keep treating me like I’m a kid! I’m not some fragile little girl who needs her hand held.”

“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a little brat, I wouldn’t have to.” He breathes heavily, inches from my face, heat rolling off him despite the blizzard.

I take the first few treads on the ladder. “You don’t know the first thing about what I’m capable of!”

He steps on the rung behind me, his body pressed against my back, urging me farther into the treehouse. “I know exactly what you’re capable of. You’re going to be the ruin of me. Why the hell do you think I’ve tried to stay away?”

Reaching the hatch, I open it and climb into the wooden room, out of the wind and snow, then crawl along the picnic rug still laid out from the other day.

Sawyer closes the hatch behind us, then finds the battery-operated lantern and sets the gas heater going.

My teeth chatter as I grab a blanket from the box and wrap it around me. “You just see me as the same little girl you used to babysit.” I clench my fists at my side. My voice trembles in the cold, but I refuse to go back to the meek girl I was before.

“The little girl I used to babysit wasn’t a little brat.” He bares his teeth in the dimly lit room, both of us catching our breath, the irritation in the air blending with something else neither of us wants to acknowledge.

I’m on my knees on the picnic rug, looking up at a growly bear towering above me. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Scared that if you see me as a woman, you might just develop feelings for me.”

“You want me to treat you like a woman?” He steps closer to my face, his fingers unbuckling his belt.

I gulp. A shiver wracks my bones, but suddenly I’m no longer cold. The fire in his eyes is hot enough to warm the entire estate.

He drags the zipper down his jeans; the sound vibrating in my centre. His length springs free and he fists it right in front of my face. The slit glistens under the glow from the gas fire, and I wet my lips in anticipation. I’ve never been this close to a man’s erection before.

“Suck it.” He narrows his eyes as if it’s a challenge. He’s calling my bluff. Does he think I’ll recoil?

Keeping my eyes locked with his, I open my mouth as wide as I can and wrap it around the head of his shaft.

His eyelids flutter closed as a deep, guttural groan rumbles from his lips. With his other hand, he runs his fingers through my hair, wet from the melted snow, and makes a fist, tugging on my scalp and holding my head in place. “Is your mouth innocent, the same as your virgin pussy?” he growls.

Unable to speak with him stuffing me like this and holding me in place, I hum a yes as best I can.

Another groan rumbles from deep in his chest as he rocks his pelvis into me. His length hits the back of my tonsils and I gag, my throat contracting. “Relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax your throat, swallow me down like a good little angel.”

I try to speak, but it’s just noise around his shaft. Fear grips my throat as I realise what he’s implying. Only he’s not waiting for an answer as he pushes in deeper, giving me no choice but to swallow around him. My eyes water in the corners as I’m practically choking him down.

His hand moves from his length as I take more of him, and wraps around my throat, gently sliding his palm over my neck in soothing strokes, as if he can feel himself there.

My eyes stream, making my vision blurred. I want to do this. I want to prove to him I can take it and I’m not some little girl he has to take care of all the time, that I am a woman with the same needs as him, and right now that need is becoming more evident as slickness pools between my thighs.

“You’re being such a good girl, taking me all the way in like this.” His voice trembles. He hisses through his teeth as he pulls out a little, then pushes back in. “Swallow me down again, angel. Your virgin mouth is like heaven.”

I do as he asks, trying my hardest to give him the best blow job he’s ever had, but I’ve no clue what I’m doing and I’m unable to do much at all other than what he instructs. He’s so big, it’s as if there’s no room for my tongue. I worry my teeth with catch on his length and as he pulls out again, with my aching jaw, that’s exactly what happens, but he shudders as if enjoying it.

“Are you ready for me to fuck this pretty mouth before I wreck your pussy?” His eyes are like daggers, forged in the depths of hell, piercing my soul.

It’s as if he’s punishing me for pushing him to his limit, but I want this. I want all the pain and pleasure he has for me. I want to feel him raw, but more than anything, I want to touch myself.

I nod with his cock in my mouth, saliva dripping down my chin, tears streaming down my cheeks, but I’m not sad. This is the most alive I’ve ever felt, and I don’t want it to stop. Shrugging off my coat, I reveal the black dress I’m wearing, cut low to show off my assets in a push-up bra.

He halts his movements, his eyes raking over my chest. “You went out like this?” His face twists and he tugs harder on my hair. “Did you flaunt your tits around the bar?”

I nod, wanting to get more of a reaction out of him.

“If you want to be a slut, you’re my slut and nobody else’s. You hear?”

Unable to speak, I nod again as more saliva drips down my chin and down my cleavage. I’m like the rose on his chest and he’s the snake wrapped around me, taking my innocence. Only I’m far from wilting.

“Pull your dress down and touch your tits.” His breaths are ragged, matching my own. He’s not all the way in my mouth, more resting on my tongue, allowing me time to relax my jaw.

I pull the dress down my arms along with my bra straps, then unclip my bra at the back. My breasts hang heavy, my nipples hard, ready to cut glass.

He lets out an approving groan, his hand cupping my face while his finger traces my lips around his cock. “Are you wet, baby girl?”

A hum vibrates around his shaft. I nod, my body tingling all over, desperate to touch myself.

“Show me. Push that dress all the way down and show me how wet you are.” He slowly moves his pelvis again, thrusting into my mouth and pulling out again, hissing through his teeth.

With both hands, I push the dress over my hips, letting it drop at my knees on the floor, then I push the tights and knickers down enough to expose myself. The cool air hits my sensitive, slick flesh, causing a wave of pleasure to cascade down my spine.

I reach between my legs, knowing just a few circles of my sensitive nub, and I’ll come harder than I’ve come with Mr. Snuggles.

“Dip your fingers in your sweet pussy and show me.” Sawyer ruts into me, picking up the pace as if he can’t control himself any longer.

My walls clench around my fingers as they slip inside with ease. I’ve never known myself to be this wet, or this turned on. I lift my hand up in front of the small gas fire; the light bouncing off clear fluid webbing between my digits.

“Is all that for me, angel?” He licks his lips, his breaths coming out in fast, short bursts. “Is all that honey just for me?”

My head nods. I look up through my lashes, our eyes connecting as if our souls are bonding together.

“Fuck.” He roars like a grizzly bear and my walls clench again, desperate for something to fill the void. Desperate for my papa bear.

OceanofPDF.com

15

SAWYER

Ican’t stop now. The minute I saw her arousal on her fingers, something inside me snapped. It’s as if my conscience has left the building and all that’s left is a crazed beast, high on her scent.

I force myself to take a step back and pop from her mouth, but I need to be inside her. I can’t wait a minute longer. Dropping to my knees with a thud, the treehouse shakes. It’s blowing a blizzard outside, but that’s nothing compared with the storm brewing inside of me, ready to tear my girl to shreds.

She falls back with a gasp as I hover above her. She’s still clothed from her knees downwards. And I’m still fully clothed. “This is going to hurt,” I say, inches from her face. This ain’t how I wanted things to go for her. “Tell me to stop.”

She swallows with panting breaths as she leans up on her elbows, watching as I pull the snaps at my shirt.

“Angel,” I growl as I lean back on my haunches and pull her boots from her feet, one at a time.

“No. I don’t want you to stop.” Her eyes are wide like a little bunny caught in a snare, only I’m not gonna eat her. Tonight I’m going to split her in two and claim her as mine.

“You’ve no idea what you’re in for. Tell me to stop now before it’s too late.” I swallow the bile rising in my throat, unsure if I can stop now, but if she says the word, I’ll pin her down and wank over her tits, instead of driving into her and tearing her apart.

“I want you, Sawyer. I’ve wanted you since I was sixteen, when you sat me on your knee and taught me to play poker. That night, I went upstairs and defiled Mr. Snuggles for the first time.”

“I’m not the teddy bear of a man you think I am.” I bare my teeth, showing her a taste of what’s to come as I yank her tights down her legs, along with her knickers, almost shredding them as they tangle around her feet.

“I don’t want a teddy bear any more. I want the grizzly bear. I want you to maul me, take me, feed on me. Do whatever you want with me as long you keep me.” Her eyes are pleading, a youthful innocence, like a little doe looking up at me as if I hung the moon.

I pull my belt from its loops around my waist and hover over her. “I should spank you with my belt for leaving the cabin tonight.” The leather strokes against her cheek.

Fear in her eyes has me fixated on her, but her blue irises dance with something else, resembling excitement. “What are you going to do?”

Gripping both her wrists above her head. I wrap the belt around a wooden beam inches from her hands and secure her to the post.

“What’s that for?” Her eyes flick between me and the post as she tries to wriggle free.

“Because once I’m inside of you, I won’t be able to stop and I can’t have you running from me again.” My dick slides between her folds, seeking her warmth. The scent of her arousal fills the treehouse, along with the smell of fear as moisture gathers on her forehead.

Sticking out her chin and spreading her legs, she says, “I won’t run. I want this.”

“This is going to hurt. You’re gonna cry, but you have to be my brave girl and take it.” It takes all my strength to not breach her walls as my dick slides around her soaked pussy. “Last chance, angel. Tell me to fucking stop. Now.” My heart hammers in my chest, my mind raging war on my actions, but it’s no use. Unless she says the word in the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna sink home into her heat and fuck her sore.

“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me,” she cries out, lifting her hips to meet my throbbing dick.

Something primal takes over as I drive into her in one swift hard thrust, bottoming out in her heat.

She screams just as the wind howls through the cracks in the treehouse, the floor swaying underneath us. If this treehouse gives way and we die tonight, at least we’ll die fucking happy.

I crash my lips to hers, silencing her whimpers while I give her a minute to get used to my size.

She slips her tongue against mine and I take that as a sign to pull out halfway before driving back into her. She whimpers against my lips and I kiss her again, thrusting my tongue into her mouth while pulling out slowly and slamming back into her heat.

I bury my face in her hair, pressing my lips against her temple and soaking up her delicious scent of cinnamon and sunshine and all that’s fresh and pure. “Forgive me,” I whisper as I pull back and fuck my dick into her harder, as if I can fuck a baby into her tight little cunt. “Say you forgive me.”

It’s then the panic in her eyes takes hold. She’s just realised I’m not wearing a condom. There’s no stopping me now. Not until I’ve emptied every last drop of cum into her.

I look down between us, barely able to see where we join with both our full figures, but as I pull out and lift slightly, sucking in my stomach, there’s no mistaking the red streaks on my dick, even in the dim light. The sight summons a growl to rumble from my chest and I thrust into her tight pussy again. “You’re mine now, angel. There’s no going back now.”

“I don’t want to go back. I want this.” She arches her back, her hips moving as if trying to get more friction against her little bundle of nerves.

“You wanted me to wreck your virgin pussy?” I thrust harder, grinding against her plump mound.

“Yes. Don’t stop.”

“Baby girl, I’ve got you. I’m not stopping until you spill all that honey on my dick.” I grind harder against her. The pain that was etched on her face is now replaced with pure bliss and I slide in and out of her with ease. “Lift your head and look at us. I want you to see where we join and how we fit perfectly together.”

I cradle her head, while her wrists are bound. A cushion rests next to the blanket box and I reach for it, then push it under her neck.

She gasps as I pull out of her, my dick tinged with streaks of red. Then we both watch it disappear inside her as I thrust back into her heat.

“Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you ever saw?” My eyes rake over every curve and crease of her body. “My angel taking my dick like a good fucking girl.” I pump her pussy, her tight walls drawing my balls up, making my stomach tighten, but I won’t come until she’s done. I want to feel her milking my cock.

“I…” she moans, her body trembling beneath me, her legs shaking as I hold them, wrapping them around my waist. “I love it, Sawyer.”

I swipe the hair from her face. She’s an angel with blonde waves, innocent, and pure and then I swipe at her other cheek, moving the brunette strands that stick to her forehead, her darker side who likes to be a brat and test my patience.

“You’re my angel.” I grip her face between my finger and thumb and turn her head to the blonde side, peppering her face with kisses. I kiss her neck, whispering into her ear. “My beautiful angel.”

“Yes,” she says, her words no more than a breathy whisper against my skin.

I turn her head to the other side where she’s now a brunette and lick the sweat from her cheek. “And you’re my slut.”

“Yes,” she says with another breathy whimper.

I push into her, my dick threatening to shoot my load at any second. “Mine, Angelica.” I pull out and drive harder. “Fucking mine.” My hand moves to her throat as I thrust deeper. “Say it.”

“Yes. Yours. I’m yours, Sawyer. Your slut. Your angel. All yours.”

“Good girl. Now come on my cock and show me who owns your orgasm.” I soften my grip on her throat, not wanting to mark her, but it might be too late. She’s gonna be fucking sore in the morning and I hope she forgives me for my sins, but right now, I can’t stop fucking her tight pussy. She’s heaven sent with a mouth made for sin.

I’m feral, driving home because that’s what she is to me, home. And I’m about to desecrate her, but there’s no stopping it now. Desire has taken over and the beast in me taken root.

She clenches around me with a cry from her lips, a delicious whimper that sends a shiver down my spine, straight to my balls, and I rut into her with my own release.

Warmth spreads through my groin with the release of pressure as she clenches again, milking my cock with the delicious twinges and pulses from her orgasm.

I unbuckle the belt, unbinding her hands, and drop my head into the crevice of her neck and shoulder, our heated bodies sliding together as I hold myself above her. “Say you forgive me, angel.” I breathe the words against her neck and kiss below her ear. “Tell me you’re all right.”

She giggles, her tits jiggling with her laughter. She runs a hand through my damp hair and turns her face to catch my lips. “I’m more than fine. And there’s nothing to forgive.”

I let out a long sigh, as if letting out all the guilt of taking away her first time. I didn’t deserve it. I shouldn’t have taken it, but there’s no going back now.

She’s mine.

OceanofPDF.com

16

ANGELICA

Ipull the blanket over me and wrap it tight around my neck, snuggling into Sawyer’s warm chest. We turned the heater down during the night as we got too hot once the storm had died down. The snow covering the treehouse must be keeping us warm, like an igloo keeps the air trapped inside.

We’re both still naked, wrapped up in each other’s arms. The ghost of him between my legs still lingers, causing my walls to twitch with aftershocks every time I think of him inside of me.

He wasn’t wrong when he said it was going to hurt. I felt like a log being split in two as he came down on me, wielding his weapon, but after I became accustomed to his size, the pain turned to pleasure.

Light pours through the window in the treehouse, a gentle flurry of snow still falling all around us as if we’re in a giant snow globe and nothing can burst this bubble.

I inhale Sawyer’s scent, a mix of his usually woodsy fragrance mixed with our arousal. I loved every minute of last night. The brutality of it all. Him treating me like a woman. A sexy goddess he couldn’t get enough of. And the part about saying I was his.

He spent the rest of the night wrapping me in cotton wool, kissing my forehead, and taking care of me like a gentle giant. A complete contrast to the wild beast from before.

The hairs on his chest tickle my nose and I nuzzle into him, soaking up his scent under the blanket. I don’t want him to wake up in case he has second thoughts about us. But I’m under no delusions. He said himself he doesn’t do relationships. If this is nothing more than a holiday fling, then so be it. But I’m gonna make the most of our time together until Dad comes home and reality sets in. Until then, we can live in our bubble.

“You awake?” he asks as he glides his hand up my spine, sending a wave of goose bumps over my back.

“No,” I say and kiss his chest.

He pulls me tight against him, our bodies squishing together as my breasts flatten against him. “It sounds like the blizzard’s subsided.”

“I don’t want to move. I’m warm and cosy here.”

“Me too. Seems like Twilight was right.” His chest shakes with a silent chuckle.

“What about?” I lift my head to look into his eyes.

“Two naked bodies together keep you warm.” His lips press against my forehead. “We should make a move.”

“I’m scared, Sawyer.” I cling to him, not wanting this bubble to burst.

“Baby girl, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll never hurt you like that again. You don’t need to fear me.” He peppers my hairline with kisses as I bury my face into his chest.

“Sawyer, I’m not scared of you.” I let out a sigh, my breath warm between us. “I’m scared that once we’re back at the cabin, things will go back to how they were.”

He lifts my chin to gaze into my eyes. “Things can never go back to how they were.”

That reassures me. I don’t want to go back to being ignored.

“I need to get you home, get you showered and warm. Then we can talk about what to do going forward. Okay?”

I bob my head, his finger and thumb still on my chin, holding my face in place as he brings his lips to mine. It’s soft, gentle, and warm, with all the comfort of a teddy bear.

It’s like the calm after the storm. The white blanket covers the ground like a clean cotton sheet on a freshly made bed. The sun shines down on my face and everything just seems brighter than before. My body light, as if I’m walking on clouds and not trudging through the snow like I was yesterday, each step heavy with the weight of all my heartache and the V-card that was hanging from my shoulders like a sandwich board that said loser with a capital L.

I’d never thought much about my virginity. Never cared until I thought Sawyer saw me differently, as though I were this inexperienced girl who wasn’t worth his time. But I realise now that wasn’t the case. He didn’t feel like he was good enough for me to give it to him.

I guess we both need to work on our self-esteem.

The heat in the cabin is already on, thanks to the timer. I kick off my boots in the hall and shrug off my coat. Sawyer does the same. Then, without words, he takes my hand and leads me up the stairs and into the bathroom.

He turns on the shower. Steam fills the air as he undresses me and then strips himself, snapping off his shirt.

As I step under the spray of the water, it hits my skin like pins and needles, my body adjusting to the heat. I lift my face under the showerhead and close my eyes, letting the water wash away all my previous insecurities.

Sawyer steps into the shower behind me, his naked body pressing against my back as his arms slip around my waist. He moves my wet hair back with the gentlest of touches and kisses my neck. “I’m so fucking sorry I bruised you, angel.”

I lift my hand to my neck, the memory of his palm squeezing my throat making my centre flutter. “I’m not.” My body turns to face him and I rise onto my tiptoes to kiss his lips.

“You should be. Last night I lost all control. I was so incensed I couldn’t think straight.” His large palms cup my face as he gazes into my eyes, water running down his cheeks like tears. “When I couldn’t find you, I ran out onto the pier, searching the lake for you. Thoughts that something had happened to you spun in my head, making me fucking crazy.” His lips press against my forehead as he holds me against him under the water. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m sorry. I was angry with you for ignoring me.” My face nuzzles into his chest. “I thought you saw me as a child because I was still a virgin. I wanted to make you jealous and to see me as a woman.” My voice cracks, all the emotions of yesterday resurfacing. “That’s why I wore Mum’s dress.”

He reaches for the shower gel on the wall and pumps two squirts into his hands. “From the moment I caught you in the shower, there’s been no doubt in my mind that you’re all woman, angel.” His palms glide over my skin, sliding down my breasts, his thumb circling my nipple. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

I hum out a sigh as he flicks his thumb over my sensitive peaks, still sore from his teeth and the assault of his tongue.

His hand lathers soap over my stomach, squeezing my belly with both hands. A satisfied hum tumbles from his lips as he rubs his calloused hands over my soft flesh, slipping down between my thighs.

I gasp at the contact on my swollen, sensitive parts. Both pleasure and pain with the tender muscles there.

“Does it hurt a lot?” His brow knits with concern, guilt etched on his face.

“No.” I widen my stance, wanting him to play with me, touch me, fuck me.

His finger slips between my folds, lathering the soap around, sliding back and forth.

“Sawyer,” I hum, my head lolling back as I enjoy his hands caressing my aching centre. A total contrast to how he was last night. I love both sides to him, honoured that I got to experience this other part of him. The teddy bear of a man and the grizzly bear of the beast.

“Turn around.” He pumps more soap into his hands and works my shoulders, giving me a massage. His large palms glide down my back, over every bump and crease, as if he’s tracing the lines, taking his time as he washes me with his bare hands.

With the spray of water on my face again, I close my eyes, enjoying the warmth and closeness with him, my entire body vibrating with tingles as his fingertips tickle my skin.

Reaching my bottom, he cups both cheeks and squeezes, kneading and massaging my behind. With anyone else, I’d be embarrassed by a man focusing so intently on my large backside, but the way Sawyer moans in pleasure tells me he likes what he sees.

“You have a beautiful arse, angel.” He kisses my neck as his fingers tease between the valley of my cheeks, sliding from top to bottom and finding my sensitive knot.

I suck in a breath at the contact, my legs shake, already weakened from last night. The sensation completely new to me. I’ve never touched myself there before. Not like this. I push my bottom out, encouraging him to probe more.

“You like that?” He kisses along my neck where he held my throat last night as if he can kiss away the bruising. He massages me back there, loosening the tight knot. “When you’re used to me, I’m going to fuck you here and claim every part of you.” He growls from deep in his chest, reminding me of the grizzly bear from last night.

“I want that now. Please, I can take it.” I push my bottom back more and press against a hot rod of muscle.

“You need time to recover after last night.” His finger slips into my ass, lathered in soap. It’s just the tip, but I cry out, the sound like a mewl from deep in my throat.

Placing my palms against the shower wall to brace myself, my hips rock into him, teasing, hoping he’ll bend me over and take what he wants.

“Don’t tempt me, angel.” He removes his finger, disappointment coursing through me.

I jolt forward with a yelp as a stinging crack lands on my backside. “Did you just spank me?”

He growls, massaging the sting with has palm, then another slap, the water making a splash sound along with the slapping of flesh.

The sting travels straight to my core, causing tingles to shoot up my spine.

“That’s for being a brat.” He kisses my shoulder. “And for leaving me last night.”

I brace myself for another sting.

“And this is for tormenting me when I said no.”

I’m jolted forward, but I bite back my yelp. He’s not using the strength I know he has. And after all his sorries about how he was too rough with me, I doubt this will leave a mark, but my centre pulses at the thought of his handprint bruising my cheek. Pink’s always been my favourite colour.

“You need to learn that I know what’s best for you and stop trying to push my buttons.”

“I’ll be a good girl, I promise, Sawyer.” I turn around and run my hands over his chest, lathering him in soap just like he did me. My hands roam over his soft flesh, like a giant teddy, but underneath he hides a wall of muscle that’s as strong as a bear and able to protect me and carry me when I need it.

My eyes drift down to his monster erection that reaches the crease, hiding his belly button. My fingertip traces the wet hair from his belly to the base of his shaft, rivulets of water running down his magnificent frame, and I want to lap them up with my tongue.

As I slide my finger along the length of him, tracing the thick blue vein that leads to the head, he hisses.

His chest rises and falls with a rumble from his throat as if I’m awakening the beast. “What are you doing, angel?”

“Just because I’m still sore doesn’t mean I can’t play with you.” I look up through my lashes. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

He nods with gritted teeth and I can tell it’s taking all his strength to keep control.

“Tell me what to do. What do you like?” It’s empowering to have this giant of a man groan out in pleasure from my touch.

“I like anything you do.” He takes my hand and squeezes the minty shower gel onto my palm. “Wash me.” He guides my hand to his erection.

I slide my hand over him, his shaft slick with soap, and move it up and down.

His eyes don’t leave mine as I continue to fondle.

“Like this?”

“You’re a natural. Now move your hand lower and wash my balls.”

My hand trembles as I cup his sack. I slide it back and forth and squeeze gently, feeling inside like two hard-boiled eggs.

“Fuck. That’s it, baby girl. Just like that.” His lips curve in one corner. “You like playing with those, huh?”

“Yes.” I can’t stop jiggling them in my palm. It’s satisfying, like playing with a squishy.

His lips press to mine, his tongue slipping through my parted mouth, and I melt against the shower wall. He pulls back, brushing the wet hair from my eyes. “I’m gonna enjoy teaching you everything you want to know, angel. And we can find out what each other likes. But right now, I want to take care of my baby girl. Turn around and let me finish washing your hair.”

OceanofPDF.com

17

SAWYER

My jeans vibrate on the bathroom floor, along with a ringing sound, but with Angelica braced against the shower wall, my hand squeezing her bare ass and my other fondling her tits, the phone can stay in my jeans pocket.

“Do you have to get that?” She pushes back again, trying to feel my cock against her ass. It’s her new favourite toy, only I won’t fuck her again until she’s recovered from last night. I shouldn’t have gone hard on her. And this is my penance.

“Your dad can wait.” I grab the shampoo from the rack and squeeze a blob into my palm, then massage it onto her scalp.

“How do you know it’s my dad?” She stands with her head under the water, rinsing off the suds of the shampoo.

“Because that’s his ringtone.” The call stops and I wash my hair, then condition hers just as it starts up again.

“It must be important.” Her eyes widen as she turns to me.

I groan inwardly and step out of the shower, knowing she’ll just be worrying if I don’t answer. It’s not unusual for Colin to call at this time, but it is unusual when it’s a holiday.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I grab my jeans from the floor and pull my phone out as I walk into the guest bedroom, leaving Angelica to finish her shower. “Yeah?” I answer a little abruptly, not exactly happy that I never got to get down on my knees and kiss her pussy better.

“It’s me.”

“Yeah, I know, what’s up?” I try to hurry him along. I haven’t got time for pleasantries. Not when his daughter’s naked in the shower.

Acid coats my tongue.

When he finds out, the only gift I’ll be getting this Christmas is a one-way ticket to hell.

“What side of the bed did you get out of this morning?”

I put him on speaker while I dry myself and grab a pair of joggers. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night. What’s up?”

The shower turns off and I know our playtime’s over. Her dad’s voice killing the mood.

“I’ve been worried about Angelica since you called last night. She hasn’t answered any of my messages. Have you heard from her?”

“Oh. Yeah.” I scratch my beard. That highway to hell seeming more and more real. “She texted me. She’s fine. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“What time was this?”

“Last night sometime. I’m not entirely sure.” Once dressed, I take the conversation downstairs into the kitchen.

“It’s odd she hasn’t texted me and when I’ve tried to call, it’s as if her phone isn’t switched on.”

“Huh. I’m sure she’ll text you when she gets up. You remember what it was like to be in your twenties.” I grimace. That’s probably not going to comfort him at all, knowing what we were like in our twenties. And Angelica isn’t the wild partying sort. She’s innocent. Or at least she was until about ten hours ago.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He tsks down the phone. “If you hear from her again, tell her to call me.”

“Will do.” I flick the kettle on and discard the towel, then pull the joggers on. Blitzen the deer eyes me as if to say, I know what you’ve been up to. Guilt prickles my tonsils as if I’ve swallowed a ball of bloody tinsel. “You don’t have any security cameras here, do you?”

“No, why?”

“No reason. I’ll catch up with you soon, mate.” I wince at the word mate. He’s gonna hate my fucking guts when he finds out what I’ve done. I hate myself.

“Yeah. Merry Christmas, pal.”

“Same to you.” I end the call, realising it’s Christmas Eve. That means I have about five more days with her until Colin comes back from his trip.

Blitzen’s glass eyes appear as if they roll when I walk past, casting a shadow on the wall. He’s probably thinking the same thing as me. I’m not good enough for her, or young enough. I have no business fucking a girl half my age, let alone my best mate’s daughter.

Colin and I have been best mates since we were kids. I don’t want to choose between him and his daughter, and I won’t be the one to ruin their relationship, but if it comes down to a choice, I won’t abandon my angel. I’ll be whatever she wants me to be until the day she doesn’t want me anymore. Because let’s face it, nothing lasts.

Angelica pads down the stairs in loungewear, drying her wet hair with a towel. “Was everything all right with Dad?”

“You need to call him. He’s been trying to get hold of you.” I walk over to her in the open-plan kitchen and press my lips against her forehead, needing the contact for myself as much as for her.

She nods. “I need to charge my phone.”

I scratch the back of my head, guilt still prickling my throat. “We need to talk.”

“Don’t do that, Sawyer.” She turns around, pulling out a frying pan from the cupboard. “I’m not a silly girl who thinks just because we slept together, we’re now going to get married.” The frying pan clatters against the hob.

I hold my hands up in surrender as she grabs an egg from the rack.

“You’ve made it crystal clear that you don’t do relationships and I expect nothing from you.” She cracks the egg into the pan as if cracking a piece of my heart.

“You don’t?” My brow furrows.

“No. We can both enjoy each other while we’re here and then carry on with our lives in the New Year.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You thought you’d take my cock for a test drive and then move on with your life?” I chuckle to myself. “Cute.”

She twists a foot on the pad of her fluffy slipper, the other foot resting against her shin like a flamingo. “What are you saying?”

I slide my hand over the soft wool of her lounge set, over her breasts until I reach her neck where I gently wrap my fingers around her throat, feeling her pulse pick up speed. “Did I not make myself clear last night?”

Her eyes widen, but it’s not fear. It’s excitement.

“That’s right, baby girl. You’re mine now.” I crash my lips to hers, showing her just how much I own her, in case my words aren’t clear enough. My tongue tangles with hers, showing her who’s in charge, but I keep my hand gentle yet firm around her throat, willing myself to not lose control again. She needs to heel. But one kiss. Just one kiss is all I need to remind her of my claim.

Needing a breath, I reluctantly break the seal of our mouths and inhale a lungful of air, panting heavily.

She’s breathless, cheeks flushed. Beautiful. Mine.

“I only wanted to talk about contraception.” I take over the breakfast she’s started, before the egg frazzles to a crisp.

“Oh.” She opens the fridge and hands me the bacon. “I’m not on any.” She gulps, her brow knitted as if she’s in trouble, and I hate that she feels that she should take any responsibility for this. This is all on me.

“I figured as much with it being your first.” My hand reaches for hers and I bring it to my lips to reassure her. “I’ll walk into town today and get you the morning-after pill from the chemist. This is my mess and I’ll fix it.”

“Is that what you think this is? A mess?” Her fist clenches around the key necklace I bought her for her twenty-first. It occurs to me she’s the only woman I’ve ever put any real thought into when buying gifts. This girl means everything to me and I’m ashamed of how I treated her last night.

“I should have worn a condom, but I didn’t have my wallet on me and—” I run a hand over my face, letting out a long breath. “There’s a lot of things I should have and shouldn’t have done and I’m fucking sorry, angel. But I am clean. You don’t need to worry about that.”

She seems disappointed. I’m disappointed in myself. But I’ll put this right. There’s no way I’m trapping the lass with my kid, no matter how much the idea of her belly growing with my child turns me the fuck on.

OceanofPDF.com

18

ANGELICA

Istir awake to the crackling of the log fire. A few lights twinkle on the tree, the aroma of Christmas in the air, and Sawyer hovering above me, with a blanket.

He tucks it around me, then kisses my lips. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

“How long have you been back?” The moon shines through the window, telling me it’s evening already.

“About half an hour.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a packet. “The chemist said it can cause nausea and vomiting, cramps, headaches. There’s a list of side effects on the leaflet inside. I’m so sorry, angel.” His large hand covers his face as he hangs his head low, then he moves his palm down and rubs his finger and thumb under his eyes with a long exhale.

“Will you stop saying sorry? I’m as much to blame for this mess as you are.” I use his words, not mine. As far as I’m concerned, this isn’t a mess at all. I want this. I want him and I want nothing more than to have his baby. That’s if I’m even pregnant. I read this afternoon that there’s a thirty percent chance of getting pregnant from your first time. You’d have to be very unlucky to have that happen, or extremely lucky, depending on which way you look at it.

I throw the blanket off of me and take the box from him, then make my way to the kitchen.

“I just want to put things right and take care of you, but I hate that it’s gonna make you feel ill. I’ll be here for whatever you need.” He follows me into the kitchen and stands behind me while I fill a glass of water. His hands slide up and down my arms, and I lean back against his body, enjoying the comfort of my growly teddy bear.

He moves the blonde side of my hair back and kisses my neck. “I bought you one of those vanilla slices you like from Greggs.”

“You remembered I like those?” I tilt my head to the side, giving him more access as his beard tickles my skin and his lips caress my flesh.

“I remember everything about you. You don’t think I took an interest in art for the fun of it, did you?” He peppers my neck with gentle kisses, sending tingles down my spine.

“Well, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” Can this man be any more perfect?

“I’ll make dinner. What do you fancy?”

I turn the tap off and spin around with my glass of water. “We have a choice of three ready meals.” My lips lift in the corner. “Chicken curry, spaghetti meatballs, or macaroni cheese.”

“Mac and cheese with garlic bread?”

“Sounds good.” I rise on my toes and kiss his lips. “I’ll be back down in a minute.”

He nods with that weary, tormented look on his face as I take my pills and water upstairs.

In my room, I drop onto the bed and place the water on the bedside table. With my morning-after pill box in hand, I turn the packet over and read the instructions. Part of me wonders if this is for my benefit or his. He said I was his. But if he doesn’t see this working long term, that would make sense why he doesn’t want any ties with me.

Dad wouldn’t be happy if he found out I was pregnant by his best friend. But that’s one more thing to add to a long list of disappointments. Dad doesn’t know I’ve been lying to him all this time.

I lift my head and stare out of the window into the dark night. Snow drips from the trees now the blizzard has passed, but the storm still rages in my head, whirling all my emotions around and making it difficult to think.

When I told Sawyer my dad would never need to know about us, I thought we could just sleep together, have some fun, then carry on as we were, but that’s all changed now. I don’t think I’ll ever stop craving him, his touch, his lips, his warmth.

My hand caresses my stomach as I imagine what if. I’ve always wanted a family of my own. Even more so since Mum passed. I know it sounds silly, but I think a baby would fill the hole she left in my heart. And I’d be a good mum, just like her.

Dad will understand. He has to.

I place the tablets on the bedside table next to my water and make my way back downstairs. I need to chat with Sawyer about our future. He needs to know what I want.

Padding downstairs, the smell of mac and cheese fills the kitchen. I walk into the open-plan space to Sawyer kneeling on the rug, stoking the fire.

I kneel next to him, letting the fire warm my face.

“You all right?” He presses a kiss at my temple, then places the hot poker on the rack.

I know what he’s really asking. Have I taken the pill and do I feel okay? With a smile, I bob my head.

He wraps an arm around me and pulls me against his chest. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

I lift my head and look into his eyes. “I need you to fuck me.”

His jaw tightens. He hums out a rumble from his chest. “Dinner’s in about twenty minutes.”

With how sensitive my clit is, I won’t need that long. “Please.”

“You said this morning you were sore.” His fingers tease the waistband of my leggings and slip inside, sliding over my belly until he finds the elastic waistband of my knickers.

Stroking the small patch of hair on my mound, he lets out a satisfied groan. His eyes stay locked on mine as we both kneel, facing each other on the rug. The heat of the fire is nothing compared to the crackling heat between us. “Open your legs wider, baby girl. Let me in.”

I stagger my knees apart, my centre fluttering as his fingertips dance lower between my thighs.

“Does my girl need some attention on her pussy?” He strokes along the seam, gentle but torturous.

“Yes.” I rock my hips into his hand, desperate for his fingers to slip between my folds.

“Fuck.” The tip of his thick finger slides into me, then he slides it around and back up through my folds, finding my bundle of nerves. “You’re soaked, baby girl. I’ve barely touched you.”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day and what we did⁠—”

He silences me with his mouth, his other hand wrapping around the back of my neck to hold my head in place while his tongue fucks my mouth in long rough strokes and his fingers treat my pussy like he’s stroking a kitten.

Whispering against my lips, he says, “Take these off.” His fingers tug at the elastic to my bottoms and I push them down my thighs, the heat from the fire warming my bare skin.

“What about you?” I nod to the bulge under his zipper.

“All in good time. Tonight, I’m going to kiss your pussy better while you ride my beard like you rode Mr. Snuggles.”

Tingles make me shiver as I think about Mr. Snuggles between my thighs and how I would always imagine it was Sawyer, my papa bear. I never thought I’d get to do it for real.

He lies back on the rug. “Sit on my face, angel.”

I straddle his belly, my aching centre weeping on his checked shirt.

His hands glide up my thighs over the dimply skin until he reaches my behind. Gripping my ass, he urges me closer to his face.

Moisture gathers above my top lip with the heat of the fire, or it could be the adrenaline spiking as my heart thumps against my ribs. “I’ve never done this before. I’m not really sure what to do.”

Sawyer lets out a hearty laugh, his chest shaking beneath me. “I’ve seen you ride Mr. Snuggles. I think you have the hang of it.”

“But Mr. Snuggles doesn’t need to breathe.”

“Let me worry about breathing. If I need air, I’ll lift you up.” His fingers unbutton my top. I help him with the upper buttons as he works up from the bottom. “I want to make up for last night.”

“There’s nothing to make up for. I wanted everything you gave me last night.” I let my top fall open, exposing my breasts with no bra. He massages them, running his thumb over my nipple. My entire body is alight with an electrical buzz, as if twinkling like fairy lights.

He stares at my breasts, his thumbs flicking over my pebbled nipples. “I wanted your first time to be special with a man who loves you and worships the ground you walk on. A man who’s always gonna be there for you and take care of you. A man you look up to and even if it doesn’t work out, you can remember your first time and know it was out of love.”

I stroke his face, his beard tickling my palm. “You just described you. My first time was everything you just said and more. I want you to give me all my firsts.”

His eyes darken. “You realise that I’m also going to be your last? Ain’t no other motherfucker getting a taste of what’s mine.” His hands move back to my ass and yank me forward. “Now come closer so I can lick my precious pussy.”

With his hands holding on to my thighs, I shuffle forward until my centre hovers above his head. My knees tremble against the soft pile of the rug. His warm breath hits my sensitive flesh, sending a delightful shiver through me.

“Closer,” he says, his breath fanning my centre.

Widening my legs, I lean over on all fours and crawl past his broad shoulders, my knees on either side of his head. I lower my body back with only his hand guiding me until I reach his beard.

I gasp at the contact of the soft bristles against my soaked flesh.

“Sit.” His tongue darts out. The tip catching my swollen lips down there and my arms tremble as he holds me up.

“Ride my face like you rode your teddy bear.” He groans from the depth of his chest. “I want to smell your arousal in my beard for days.”

“Okay.” I lower myself more.

His hot mouth is on my centre, his tongue licking at my entrance. A groan vibrates from his lips, sending tingles straight to my clit.

I gasp again, the sensations nothing like with my teddy. My hips rock to seek more friction where I need it most.

His mouth when he kisses me is heaven, but this is like nothing I ever could have imagined. Heat ripples through my veins and fire sizzles under my skin.

With each lick of his tongue, I rock my hips in rhythm, finding a pattern. Tingles build in my core, each lick adding more and more until the pressure is bubbling over like hot water in a kettle before the whistle blows.

I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. There have been casual boyfriends in the past, but none that I ever got close enough to be intimate with. And here I am, baring my pussy and riding an older man’s face.

My body shudders, my legs tremble. “I’m close.” It’s as if I don’t want to let go as I don’t want this pleasure to be over, but the need to come is building like a tsunami and I feel like I’m gonna flood his face when it crests, but I’m not embarrassed. The way Sawyer is with me, he’d probably get off on it.

After seeing me with Mr. Snuggles, nothing I do now can ever mortify me with this man. He’s seen everything now, and he knows me better than I know myself. There’s no hiding from him and I don’t want to.

I slide back and forth like I’m on a rowing machine, shamelessly getting myself off on his entire face, his tongue licking all the way from my weeping centre to my clit and back again.

“Sawyer. Don’t stop. Oh, gosh.” I try to hold back, needing more of this, but the tsunami is getting closer, ready to drown us both, and I can’t stop it. Nor can I stop the sea of love that fills my heart. There’ll never be another man for me now.

I’m all his.

OceanofPDF.com

19

SAWYER

She moves her delicious pussy back and forth, rubbing her clit against my tongue, riding my face as she races to the finish. She tastes divine, just like I knew she would. Sweet like honey and bitter like a salted caramel centre. I can’t get enough of her cunt.

I dip my tongue inside, swirling it around as if I’m addicted to her nectar. I’m high as a fucking kite on her scent and loving how she’s trusting me to guide her through this. There are many firsts I want to give her, but one thing at a time.

“Sawyer.” My name on her tongue sounds like a melody sung by the heavens. She grinds down on my face, using my beard as a seat.

While she’s busy getting herself off on my face, I reach down and unbuckle my belt. My dick hard as a fucking log. The fire roars just like the groan roaring from my chest as I wrap my fist around my dick.

I almost wish she was facing the other way so she could bend down and suck me off as I eat her out, but tonight is about her. Besides, then I wouldn’t have the view of her tits jiggling above me when she slides her ass back and forth.

Looking up past her beautiful tits to see the ecstasy on her face, Blitzen stares down at me as if smirking, enjoying the show. Don’t judge me, Blitzen. I didn’t choose to be snowed in and I certainly didn’t choose to fall for this woman, but I dare any man to resist her in my predicament. Ignoring the look he’s giving me with his glass eyes, I focus on my girl.

She pants, almost out of breath as she picks up the pace. I take a breath through my nose each time she slips backwards, but who needs to breathe when her cunt tastes like heaven?

My fist pumps my dick. My other hand squeezes her arse cheek, slipping between the valley to fondle her tight little bundle of muscle.

Her back arches as she throws her head back, a throaty moan escaping her lips. She stiffens above me, her thick thighs clenching around my head, muffling more of her cries.

Warmth floods my face, her arousal coating my beard as her body vibrates above me. Fucking delicious. I continue to lick her, lapping up every drop of her orgasm.

Her legs twitch with aftershocks each time I catch her clit. “Sawyer.” Her voice trembles. “That was⁠—”

“I know, baby girl.” My lips press against her clit, peppering kisses, and I inhale her scent, soaking up every part of her.

She shuffles backwards, hovering above my chest. “I didn’t suffocate you, did I?”

My lips lift in the corners as I gaze up at her with hooded eyes. “I may have died and gone to heaven while you were riding my face like you were racing in the Grand National.”

“What about you?” She lifts from me, kneeling at the side, and reaches for my dick.

“Not tonight, angel.” I rise to my knees and gently coax her to lie back against the rug.

She spreads her legs, ready for me, baring her glistening cunt. The lights from the tree dance across her skin, making her look even more festive, but I will not fuck her tonight. Instead, I fist my dick between her legs. It will only take a few pumps and I’ll be done for.

“Reach between your legs, angel.” I watch as her hand strokes the small patch of hair. “Spread your pussy lips for me.”

She does what I ask and fuck me, it’s the most beautiful sight.

My balls draw tight, pressure builds in my stomach and my skin crackles like the logs on the fire. A primal groan rumbles from my chest. Last night was savage and untamed. Claiming her as mine. Tonight I’m the gentle giant, the teddy bear who wants to take care of her, but that doesn’t stop me from marking my territory like a wild fucking animal.

Hot ropes of cum land on her pussy, coating her clit where she spreads her lips. I grunt out as I milk more cum from my dick, squirting her hand and belly. “You look as pretty as a picture.” I lean back on my haunches, admiring my art, wishing I had more to paint her face.

Her eyes shimmer under the twinkling star at the top of the tree, her face lit up with a golden glow just like the angel she is. And she’s all mine. I know I don’t deserve her. I’m a sick fuck for what I’ve done, but I plan on doing so much more.

The oven timer beeps, distracting me from my thoughts. “I’ll sort dinner. You clean up.” Before I get up, I lean over and press a kiss against her lips. Mine.

I can still taste her as I serve up the mac and cheese, licking my lips. I whistle a Christmas tune while I cut the garlic bread, my heart light, as if we’re living in a picture postcard instead of looking in from the outside. Angelica’s made everything else seem irrelevant and the only thing that matters to me now is her.

She appears on the other side of the kitchen island, climbing onto a stool, her fingers twirling the box of pills around in her hand. “Can we talk about this?”

“I drop the ladle in the sink and climb onto a barstool opposite her. “What is there to talk about?” I slide her knife and fork over to her next to her plate.

“I didn’t take it yet.” Her nose scrunches as she pulls her hair back from her face, the light and dark sides of her. “I’m not sure I want to.”

I reach over and take her hand. “I hate that you have to go through this. You shouldn’t even have to be making this decision.” Guilt gnaws at my insides. The plate of food in front of me less enticing with the acid rising up my throat. “I’ll be here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“Why do I have to go through with it at all?” She interlaces her fingers with mine, her chewed thumbnail delicately scratching my hand. “What if we put it in the hands of fate?”

“What you’re saying is like playing Russian roulette.” My jaw clenches. “You can’t be serious.”

“It depends on your perspective.” She pulls her hand away and grabs her fork, stabbing it into the macaroni.

I lean over the counter, my jaw tight, but trying to keep my voice calm. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“Then explain it to me.” She holds my gaze, her eyes narrowing. There’s a beat of silence, the space between us crackling. “Just tell me this and be honest with me.”

My heart pounds, wondering if she’s thinking what I think she is.

She picks up the box of pills. “Are these for my benefit or yours?”

I open my mouth, then close it, struggling with the words, my hands flexing at my sides. “You deserve better than this, Angelica. Better than…than me.”

Her breath hitches. She drops the box and places her hand on my cheek, her fingers grazing my beard. “Maybe I don’t want better. Maybe I just want you.”

“Eventually, you’d leave like all the rest of the women in my life. I’m not good at the relationship thing. You’d get fed up with me eventually and I’ll be damned if you’re trapped with my kid.”

She climbs from the stool and rounds the worktop. Her palms press against my chest as she gazes into my eyes with nothing but love and admiration. “I’d never leave you.”

Choked with emotion, I swallow the ball of tinsel in my throat, pushing down the guilt. What have I done to deserve this woman? I part my legs, allowing her to stand between them. My palms slide under her pyjama top onto her bare skin, caressing her back and running my fingers along the creases there.

“You know when you asked me how I’d managed to stay a virgin for so long? The truth is that none of the guys I dated were you.”

“Angel.” With my arms wrapped around her, I pull her into a bear hug, but I crush my lips against hers, sinking into her warmth. She’s perfect in every way and she saved herself for me.

Breaking the kiss, I take her beautiful face in my hands. “You know I’ll never leave you. No matter what happens. Even if you get fed up with me and change your mind about us, I’ll still be here for you. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. But you’re still young and there’s plenty of time for you to have a baby. We can wait until you’re ready or until we’re married.”

Her smile reaches her eyes, twinkling under the kitchen spotlights. “I thought you didn’t believe in marriage.”

“That was before marrying you was within reach. Now that cards are out on the table, I’m kinda warming up to the idea.” My smile matches hers, gazing into her eyes. “I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” I chuckle to myself. “Except maybe anal.” I raise my hands. “Just kidding.” Another chuckle escapes. It’s as if I’m high on laughing gas.

“Well, can we shelf the morning-after pill and sleep on it?” She smoothes a hand over her round stomach as if she’s already pregnant. “There might be a baby Paul in here?”

A laugh tumbles out. “Paul?”

“It’s your middle name, isn’t it? After your dad?” This woman surprises me every day. She knows things about me I don’t even recall telling her.

I lift the box and move it to the other side of the breakfast bar. “If you want to risk having my son or daughter, then I’d be honoured, angel.”

“It’s just that I’ve always wanted a family. And I don’t see the point in waiting if it’s what we both want. I’ve failed at every job I’ve ever had and barely made it through university. I just think this is something that I’d be really good at.”

“You’d be an amazing mum.” My arm wraps around her back again, holding her close. “And I’d be the best fucking dad there ever was, because I’ve spent the last twenty-three years learning from the best man I know.” I press my lips to hers. “The man who raised my favourite person in the world.”

I relax on the sofa, my balls empty and my belly full.

Angelica snuggles up next to me in her pyjamas. “I’m glad there was a snowstorm.”

I kiss her forehead as I wrap my arm around her, enjoying the closeness. “Me too.” I look out the window, the snow receding. “The roads will be clear tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about the roads. I wish we could stay in this bubble forever.” She clings to me as if I might disappear if she lets go.

I want to reassure her and tell her that nothing is gonna burst our bubble, but in the New Year when her dad comes back, we both have a lot of explaining to do. For now, I’m going to enjoy this moment and for the first time in my life, I might actually enjoy Christmas.

A rustling sound comes from the back door. Angelica lifts her head from my chest. “What’s that?”

I pull her back to me. “It’s probably a fox or a badger. Had them foraging round here before.” My palm slides down her spine, settling her at my side. There’s more noises, but I’m too wrapped up in her to move or care as I scroll through the Christmas movies on Netflix.

A door clicks. Her eyes widen, looking up at me. “Did you leave the door unlocked?”

My gaze floats over her shoulder, and I don’t know whether to pull her closer to me or push her away at the sight of my mate.

Colin.

“What the hell is going on here?” Colin’s voice booms through the open-plan space.

“Dad?” Angelica jumps from my side as if she’s just seen a spider.

I rise from the sofa, wanting to protect her. I’ll take full responsibility, but I won’t apologise for loving her. My chest aches where my heart swells. I’ve always loved her, but now it’s so much more than that.

Colin’s face pales, his fists clenched at his side. His new woman hangs off his arm, looking perplexed. The man’s aged ten years since I saw him last week. “Well?” He looks between the two of us, both lost for words. He steadies himself, placing a hand on the kitchen breakfast bar.

I scratch the back of my neck, thinking of what to say that will lessen the blow, but as his fingers catch the emergency contraception sitting on the work surface and his gaze floats from me to the box, I know there’s no chance of softening the betrayal.

Angelica looks back to me as if for help, her eyes swelling with unshed tears.

“Is this why you lied to me?” He lifts the box from the counter. I can hear his molars grinding from here. “You wanted to come here and shack up with him?” He says the word him like he can’t say my name.

“No. Dad. It’s not what you think.” She steps closer to her dad and away from me.

My heart plummets to my stomach, drowning in a pool of acid. I should have known it was too good to be true. She’s denying us. I’m ready to fight for us. Do whatever it takes, but if this is what she wants to appease her father, then who am I to stand in the way? All I can do is follow her lead.

“Then what are these for? Cos I know they’re not his. And why aren’t you in London?” His voice echoes off the walls.

Lorraine places a hand on his shoulder, as if trying to calm him down. “Let her explain, Colin.”

“Let her explain?” He huffs. “I’ve been worried sick. You answered none of my voicemails or texts. And when I called your flatmate’s mobile number—the one you gave me for emergencies—she told me you were here.”

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

“I’ve driven across the country to get here because you wouldn’t answer your phone. I’ve been at my wits end, thinking something had happened to you, like your mother’s boating accident. And I get here to find you shacked up on the sofa with him.”

“I’m sorry I lied. I never wanted to hurt you.” Her voice wobbles.

I can’t see her face, but I’m guessing she’s close to tears. She doesn’t have to deal with this alone. I’m here.

“If you want to blame anyone, blame me.” I step in front of Angelica, wanting to shield her from her dad’s anger.

“You lying bastard.” My head flies backwards with the stinging blow from his fist, the bridge of my nose burning like a motherfucker.

Angelica’s scream pierces my ears, and I open my eyes.

Colin’s a big bloke, almost as big as me, and he uses that weight to push me up against the wall, his fists gripping me by the shirt as he pins me in place.

Black spots blur my vision, but I hear Angelica cry out, pleading with her dad to let me go.

I can handle myself, but I let him have this. If this is what he needs to get all his anger out, I’d sooner him take it out on me than her.

“Dad, please. I can explain.” She tugs on his arm as if trying to get him off me.

Colin snarls. “Explain to me why your boyfriend here lied about where you were. I called this morning, worried sick about you since his phone call last night sounded off. But judging by the snow on your car, you’ve been here for days.”

“I wanted to tell you, Dad.” Angelica sniffles.

Lorraine tentatively places a hand on Colin’s shoulder. “Why don’t I put the kettle on and we can all talk about it?”

Colin shrugs her off. “I don’t want a fucking tea.” He drags me from the wall and throws another punch, but I duck this time. His fist cracks the wood panelling on the wall and he curses, spinning around and landing a punch to my chest.

I’m knocked back into a cabinet, my chest burning with adrenaline and the pain of his blow.

“Dad, don’t hurt him.” Her cries are like a puncture in my heart.

Colin can hurt me all he wants, but I can’t bear to hear my angel cry.

He fists my shirt again, pushing me farther into the wooden sideboard. Photo frames clatter against the surface and fall to the floor; glass smashes around my feet.

Lorraine calls out, “Colin, please.”

He lets go of my shirt and steps back, pointing his finger at me. “Get the fuck out of my cabin.”

“Dad, it’s Christmas Eve.” Angelica turns back to me, her face pale, her eyes wide like a glass bauble.

“I don’t give a fuck what day it is.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I let you live here rent-free and you betray me.” He shakes his head as if in disbelief. “With my own fucking daughter.”

“Dad, I love him.” She stands in front of me, her body tense as I place my hands on either side of her shoulders.

“And you think he loves you?” Colin huffs out a laugh. “You let him touch you—” His face twists as he says the words. “And he can’t even have the decency to use protection.”

Everything he says is true and it stings like a knife twisting in my gut, but despite my flaws, I fucking love this girl and I can’t stay silent about it. “You know how I feel about her. I love her more than anything in the world.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word. You’ve never stayed with anyone long enough. And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna stand by and let you ruin my daughter’s life.” He waves a hand in the air as if he can shoo me out like a bad smell. “She has a career in London. She’s not staying here shacked up with you. Now get the fuck out, or do I need to throw you out?”

“I’ll pack my bag.” I turn to Angelica. “It’ll be all right.”

She follows me to the bottom of the stairs. “If you’re leaving, I’m coming with you.”

“No. I won’t come between you and your dad. Stay and talk to him.” I trudge up the stairs with heavy steps, knowing I can’t take her away from him.

He’s angry right now, but he’ll come around. He has to. It might not be tonight or tomorrow or next year, but I’ll wait as long as it takes.

OceanofPDF.com

20

ANGELICA

“You’re not going anywhere,” Dad hollers after me as I chase Sawyer up the stairs. “I haven’t driven all this way for you to leave, Angelica.”

Tears sting my eyes, making it difficult to see.

Sawyer pulls a holdall from under the bed and shoves random things in from around the room. “You need to talk to your dad, tell him the truth. Tell him what you told me.”

“No. I’m coming with you.” I wipe my tears, trying to put on a brave face for Sawyer and my dad, but my body vibrates with adrenaline.

“Hey, look at me.” Sawyer takes my face between his palms, grounding me in the present. “Deep breaths.” His thumb swipes under my eyes, wiping away more tears. “This doesn’t change how I feel about you.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “But I won’t take you away from your dad. Right now, he’s feeling betrayed by the both of us. Only you can stay and talk to him. Can you do that for me?”

I nod and try to swallow the prickling lump at the back of my throat, like a pine cone lodged there, making it difficult to breathe. My hand fists his checked shirt and I rest my forehead against his chest, soaking up the scent of the man I love, not knowing when I’ll see him again.

“That’s my good girl. I’m just at the other end of the phone and I’ll text you. I promise.” He lifts my chin and kisses my lips before packing the rest of his stuff.

I drop onto the bed as he busies around me, but it’s as if I’m not here, watching everything unfold like an out-of-body experience as Sawyer packs his life into a bag, along with my heart.

“You okay?” He lugs his large bag onto his shoulder and holds his hand out for me.

I take his hand in a daze, letting him pull me to a standing position. “Where will you go?”

“I’ll walk to the Black Crow.”

“Do you want to take my car?”

“No, you’ll need that. I’ll come back for the bike when the snow clears. Take care of her for me.”

I follow him down the stairs. Dad and Lorraine’s voices sound from the kitchen as they talk amongst themselves.

Sawyer hands me his keys, then stares over my shoulder, his jaw tightening as he faces my dad. “You know why she didn’t tell you where she was staying? Because she didn’t want to ruin your Christmas.” He points his finger towards Dad. “Your daughter’s the most selfless person I know, and even when her life was falling apart, she didn’t want to burden you because she wanted you and Lorraine to enjoy your first Christmas together. Her words were that you deserve to be happy. Shame you can’t show her the same sentiment.”

Dad glares at Sawyer, but Sawyer fixes his eyes on me as he walks out the door, mouthing the words I love you.

I close the door behind him and take a deep inhale, ready to face my father.

He stands in the kitchen, a large, formidable man, much like Sawyer. “You have some explaining to do, young lady.”

Usually I’d run into my daddy’s arms and he’d make everything better, but things feel different now. I feel different. No longer Daddy’s little girl. I’m a woman now.

Lorraine’s on her hands and knees in front of the cabinet with a dustpan and brush, as if trying to piece our family back together. But this family was broken when my mum had her accident.

“Dad, I’m sorry I’ve let you down.” I can’t stand the disappointment in his eyes. The last time he looked at me this way was when I lied about doing my homework.

“I can’t look at you right now.” He closes his eyes, his jaw tight as he breathes heavily through his nostrils. He brushes past me and stomps out the door.

I follow him, running out into the icy snow, hoping he doesn’t follow Sawyer, but he lights up a cigarette and walks around the back of the cabin out onto the pier, staring out at the lake, the water lapping in the distance.

Cold wraps all around me and I’ve never felt more alone. It’s like losing Mum all over again. I breathe in, the icy chill filling the void in my heart until I’m numb.

Walking back into the cabin, Lorraine’s still on her knees with a small handheld vacuum, sucking up the remaining glass from underneath the cabinet.

I kneel next to her to help clear up the mess. An image from my sixteenth birthday party sits beneath cracked glass. Mum, Dad, Sawyer, and me. I insisted he get on the picture because he’s always been like family.

Lorraine turns the vacuum cleaner off and places her hand on mine as it rests on my knee. “Don’t worry, my love. Just give your dad some time. He’ll calm down.” She shakes the cracked glass from the photograph into the bin and carefully slides the image from the frame. “Your mother was a beautiful woman.” She admires the family photograph before handing it to me. “You look just like her.”

I take the photo. “Thank you.”

“It’s been hard for your dad to open up about her. He carries that guilt of her accident and blames himself for not being around. He’s been chain-smoking all day, waiting for you to call him back.”

“I’m sorry.” Guilt fills my lungs until I’m drowning in it. I should have been honest with Dad from the start.

“You don’t have to apologise. It’s not your fault, it’s just how your dad is. I know he’s overprotective and overbearing, but it’s only because he loves you so much.” She clears the rest of the mess away as I sit, gazing at the photograph in my hand.

Boots stomp into the kitchen. A shadow covers the image, blocking out the light. The familiar smell of his cigarettes clings to his clothes and the fresh scent of snow from his boots.

“I salvaged what I could,” Lorraine says.

Dad’s fingers trace the outline of Mum’s face on another photograph, then mine as a little girl in his arms. “Thank you, honey. I’m sorry I lost my temper. You didn’t need to see that.”

She gives him a warm smile and then flicks her eyes to me, kneeling on the floor. “Don’t worry about it. Sort things out with Angelica. She needs you.”

I pull myself up using the cabinet for leverage, my body like a dead weight and my legs like jelly. “Please don’t be mad at me, Dad.”

“Muffin.” He sighs heavily and runs a hand over his face. “I love you. I can never stay mad at you.” He opens his arms to me and I close the distance, letting out the breath I was holding. “Just tell me the truth. Why has your life fallen apart?”

Lorraine rubs a hand over my back. “How about I make you a nice hot chocolate?”

“Yes, please.” I let go of Dad, determined not to cry. I want to show him I’m capable of taking care of myself and even though I still need him, he doesn’t need to take care of me.

“I’ll have a glass of brandy,” Dad says as he guides me into the living room.

I drop onto the sofa with a bounce. “I’m not going back to London. I’m staying here.”

“Muffin, you can’t give up your career for a man.” Dad sits in the armchair next to the fire.

My eyebrows pull together. “Mum left her job for you.”

“No muffin, your mum left her curator role at the National Gallery for you. She found out she was pregnant and didn’t want to raise you in the city.” A hand runs over his tired face. “Please tell me you’re not pregnant. Just how long have you and Sawyer been carrying on?”

I fiddle with the hem of my pyjama sleeves, pulling them down over my hands. If Dad’s upset for me lying about my whereabouts over the last week, he’s going to be devastated when he finds out I’ve been lying about my job all year. “I’m not pregnant, Dad. Sawyer’s been the perfect gentleman…until last night. He has nothing to do with me leaving London.”

He seems to relax a little and lean back in the chair, waiting for me to continue.

“I went to London because I wanted to make you proud and make Mum proud.”

“Muffin, you have. I couldn’t be prouder. I tell everyone about how you’re living your best life down there.”

Lorraine comes through carrying a hot chocolate and a brandy for Dad. “Get that down you, love. Everything’s better with hot chocolate.”

“That’s what Mum used to say.” A smile cracks my face, breaking through my sadness like a flicker of hope. The pathetic lights on the Christmas tree flash, reminding me that even when all hope seems lost, even the smallest light can eliminate the darkness.

“Your mum knew what she was talking about.” Lorraine’s warm smile fills the void in my heart with a little more courage.

“Thank you, darling.” Dad takes the brandy from Lorraine and she retreats to the kitchen.

“I loved listening to Mum’s stories about the National Gallery, and each Christmas she would take me to London with her to see the enormous tree in Trafalgar Square and we’d look at all her favourite paintings.”

“She could talk the hind legs off a donkey when she started going on about art. I used to switch off, but you were always so engrossed in what she would say.” Dad has a whimsical smile on his face. He never talks about Mum like this. “I miss that about her now. Wish I’d listened to more of her stories, but I’m glad you remember them. Maybe the two of us can visit the gallery together sometime.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to visit since you started working there. The last time I went was when I was working down there on the remodelling of the offices. It’s how I met your mother.” His features soften as he reminisces. “I was hoping you’d give me a VIP tour.”

Inhaling a deep breath, I close my eyes, the hot chocolate aroma soothing me, then exhale with the truth. “I can’t do that anymore. I got fired.”

Dad sits up in his chair, the ice in his brandy rattling against the glass. “What happened?”

I blow on the hot chocolate and warm my hands on the mug. “I never worked for the National Gallery. I’m sorry I lied.” My shoulders cave inwards. I stare into the swirling hot chocolate, unable to look Dad in the eyes.

“But you used to send me photos, selfies of you after hours.” Dad’s brow furrows. I’m sure he’s gained ten more wrinkles from tonight alone.

My fingers outline the key at my neck, wishing Sawyer was still here, but if he’s given me anything this Christmas, it’s the confidence to speak up. I drop my hand to my lap and lift my chin. “I was the cleaner. A cleaning agency employed me.”

Now Dad looks even more perplexed. “You, a cleaner?”

“I’m sorry I lied, Dad. I thought I could keep applying for jobs and you’d never know, but when I got fired, I couldn’t afford to pay rent on my own since Eve moved to the States when she got offered her dream job as a forecaster.”

“Back up for a minute.” Dad lifts his glass of brandy, waving it around in his hand. “Someone employed you as a cleaner?”

“Yes.” When he says it out loud, I know what he’s thinking.

“No wonder they fired you.” He takes a long pull on his brandy and lets out a hearty laugh. “I’m sorry, muffin, but I’ve never known you to clean anything in your entire life.”

“Da-ad,” I whine, but know he’s right. I’m terrible at cleaning, my flatmate used to say the same. No wonder she left and took her pussycat with her.

Lorraine comes into the living room with a hot chocolate of her own. She perches next to me on the sofa. “Take no notice of him. My sons never lifted a finger either.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were cleaning until you could get another job? There’s no shame in cleaning, muffin. Your nan was a cleaner her whole life.”

“I wasn’t ashamed. I just wanted to prove to you I could take care of myself and follow in Mum’s footsteps and make you proud.” My voice cracks on that last bit.

Lorraine puts an arm around me, rubbing her hand up and down my spine. “Oh, honey. Your dad’s already proud of you for just being the kind, caring and lovely person who you are. You have nothing to prove, sweetheart.” She waves her mug towards Dad. “Tell her, Colin.”

“It’s true, muffin. I don’t care if you never step foot back in London again, as long as you’re happy. What you’ve achieved at art college while taking care of me after your mother passed makes me the proudest father in the world.” He places his brandy on the mantle and rises from the chair, taking the few steps to sit on the sofa next to me.

“I don’t want to go back there. I hated it. The only thing I liked was that I got to sit and look at the paintings while the place was empty.”

“That’s why they fired you, isn’t it?” His smile reaches his eyes, the few coloured lights on the tree shining on his face.

“Yes, I was on CCTV.” A laugh bursts from my lips. For the first time, I’m able to see the funny side after carrying this secret all week.

“Honey, I wish you’d have told us. We would have come and got you.”

“That’s what Sawyer said.” My thoughts drift to Sawyer out there alone and I hope he’s okay and found somewhere to stay.

“So you told Sawyer all this?” Dad asks.

I nod and take a sip of my hot chocolate now that it’s cooled a little. “He wanted me to tell you. Said he would keep my secret, but after the holidays when you returned from Scotland, I had to tell you the truth.”

Dad scratches his beard as if in deep thought.

“Sawyer took care of me. We’ve been stuck here together during the snowstorm and—” I take another drink as if it’s Dutch courage. “And I love him, Dad. We love each other. Doesn’t Sawyer deserve to be happy, too?”

He rises from the sofa, takes the few steps to the mantle, and lifts his glass of brandy while he gazes at Blitzen on the wall. “Sawyer’s my oldest friend. I know his track record with women⁠—”

I jump from the sofa, ready to defend his name. I only know what I feel and I know in my heart that he’s different with me. “But⁠—”

Dad raises a hand. “But… I also know how he is with you. The way he dotes on you. You could always wrap him around your little finger. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you, muffin.”

“What are you saying?” I place my hot mug on the mantle.

“I’m saying maybe I was too hasty when I kicked him out. I felt betrayed by the two of you with all the lies. I’m saying, if you love him, let’s go get him.”

My heart swells in my chest like a balloon ready to burst at any minute. I throw my arms around Dad. “You mean it?”

“Anything for my little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad.”

“You’ll always be my little girl, even when you’re forty.”

OceanofPDF.com

21

SAWYER

Stepping through the back door to the Black Crow is the last place I thought I’d be this Christmas Eve. I drop my heavy holdall from my shoulder and carry it at my side as I walk into the games room.

Christmas music plays from the band in the other room, but I’m not in any sort of festive mood. Usually I stay away from Christmas celebrations, but living with Angelica these past few days seemed to lift my spirits. Everything seems better when she’s around, like my own prescription of medicine, and having to leave her is killing me inside.

Snow melts from my boots in the bar's warmth. I need a strong drink, but I also need to ask Draven if I can borrow his sofa.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Dan says as I walk by one of the pool tables.

I stop and wonder what he’s looking at. “Need a place to crash, that’s all.”

“Your eye’s bloodshot and red like you’ve been in a fight.” He steps closer to get a better look.

I rub my finger and thumb along my nose, numb from the cold, but check it isn’t broken. “Yeah, something like that. Is Draven around?”

Dom rounds the pool table. “I thought you were staying in Colin’s cabin.”

Shane pushes the bar door open with his back, carrying a tray of drinks, his neck draped with party streamers and a red lipstick stain at the side of his mouth. His smile falters when he sees my apparent shiner. “Mate. Do I need to have a word with someone?”

That’s Shane, never off duty. “Just another shitty Christmas. Is Draven in the bar?” I say, peering through the door, the room full of people.

“Here. Looks like you need this more than I do.” Shane lifts a pint from the tray and hands it to me. “Don’t let Lilly see you with that shiner or she’ll have you in the restroom, applying all her lotions and shit. I swear she carries a first aid kit around with her.

“Is it that bad?” I press my finger against my eye socket, the flesh tender now I’m out of the cold. I lift the cool pint to my lips, wishing it was a whisky, but beggars can’t be choosers. The froth coats the hairs on my top lip while I gulp down the malty flavour, needing to catch up with the lads if I’m to be in any sort of jovial mood tonight.

“Wow, you really needed that.” Shane pats me on the back as I take a breath after drinking most of the pint in one go.

“You don’t know the half of it.” I place the pint on the ledge that runs along the wall.

“Didn’t Brenda give you a shiner like that a few years back?” Kane chuckles to himself as he leans over the pool table to pot a ball, clearly revelling because someone else’s Christmas is gonna be as miserable as his.

Shane laughs along with him. “Don’t tell me it was a woman.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Worse. Her dad.”

Dom pushes past Dan and squeezes my shoulder as if he’s pieced it all together. “We’re gonna need a stronger drink.” He pulls out a bar stool from under the ledge and waves his hand as Poppy collects a few empty glasses.

The curvy redhead saunters over in a red Mrs. Christmas outfit. “Dom, I’m busy. I can’t keep taking time out just so you can kiss me.”

He quirks a grin. “I can’t resist you in this. You know red’s my favourite colour.” His hand smoothes over the velvet dress around her generous hip and squeezes her arse.

She rises onto her toes and kisses him.

I look away from the sickly sweet scene. Acid coating my tongue, wondering if I’ll ever be able to have a proper relationship with Angelica. Dom’s one of the lucky ones. He had the balls to keep hold of the woman he wanted, even if he locked her away in the cabin.

Shane’s another lucky bastard who’s been secretly dating his ex-wife’s sister for weeks. But as I look around the room, Kane’s pained expression resembles my own. He hasn’t been so lucky. While completely different circumstances, he’s still pining after a girl he can’t have. I know little about the lass, only that she’s half his age and he was in love with her mother before she passed almost twenty years ago now. Another tragedy in this town.

Dom comes up for air after having his tongue down Poppy’s throat. “Do us a favour, Red, and get us a round of shots.” He points a thumb in my direction. “Bulldozer here needs a strong one.”

She strokes the scruff on his jaw. “I think you’ve had enough to drink, don’t you?”

A smile quirks my lips as all the lads chide about him being under the thumb.

He smiles with a dopey grin and whispers to her, loud enough for me to hear as I sit on the bar stool next to him, “Don’t you worry about me, little fox, I can still fuck you into Christmas, even if I am a little merry.”

Her cheeks flush, matching the colour of her dress. She spins around, counting the guys with her finger. “Back in a minute.”

“If you see Draven, tell him I need a place to crash, would you?”

“He’s behind the bar. I’ll let him know you’re here.” She takes a tray of empty glasses and whisks out the door.

I lift the rest of my pint and down it in one go, slamming the glass back onto the wooden ledge. “I heard what you said, you jammy fucker.”

Dom laughs and places an arm around my shoulder. “You can talk. I knew there was something going on with you and Colin’s lass when I saw you looking for her.”

Dan straightens his spine. “You’re with Colin’s daughter?”

I don’t answer. Silence speaks louder than words and with the pained look on my face, along with the bruiser Colin gave me, I think my predicament is self-explanatory.

“Fuck.” Shane pokes his chipped tooth with his thumb. “I’m guessing Colin’s not happy about it.”

“No shit, Shane. You should get a promotion to detective with those intuitive skills. You’re wasted down at the station.” I shake my head as everyone laughs. “I’d bet money he’s not fucking happy, would you be?” She’s Colin’s world. He wants the best for her and I’m probably the worst thing that could’ve happened to her. I don’t even have anywhere to live, for fuck’s sake. I can’t blame him for wanting to protect his own. If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d do exactly the same.

Poppy returns with a tray of shots, placing them on a tall table next to the ledge I’m sat at. “Cheer up. It’s Christmas.” The lass is bonnie enough to cheer any man up with just her smile, but I’m a lost cause.

“Christmas is cancelled for me, sweetheart.”

“Why, are you on Santa’s naughty list?”

Dan chimes in, “No, just Colin’s hit list.”

I tighten my jaw and narrow my eyes as I lift a green shot from the table and knock it back. A ball of fire burns the back of my throat, incinerating the prickling tinsel that’s been lodged there.

“Easy there, tiger.” Poppy giggles as I pull a face, my eyes watering from the burn.

“Are you trying to kill me off?”

She giggles again. “It’s my own concoction.”

“It’s a chemical weapon, is what it is.” My mouth is on fire. “Tastes like regret in a glass.”

Poppy waves a dismissive hand. “I call it the hairy fairy. It’ll put hairs on your chest.”

“Sweetheart, I’m hairy enough.”

“Bulldozer, stop flirting with my woman.” Dom winks at Poppy. “She has a thing for a hairy chest.”

“What’s she doing with you then?” his brother Dan says. “You managed to grow some?”

“Very funny.” Dom hands the shots out to the rest of the lads. “Here, maybe this’ll shut you all up.”

Poppy tilts her head. “So, are you not staying at Colin’s anymore?”

“He’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar,” Shane says.

Poppy’s green eyes widen as if she’s pieced it all together.

Dom lifts the last shot for himself. “I gotta hand it to you though, mate. You’ve got some big fucking balls to go there.”

“He’s now got two lighter balls after going there,” Shane says with a chuckle.

“Watch it or I’ll put a chip in that other tooth.”

Shane rocks back on his heels. “Poppy, get the man another drink, would you? He’s gonna need a few to lighten up.”

She collects the empty tray. “I told Draven you’re here.”

“Thanks, love.”

Shane rests a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate. He’ll get over it. You’re not the first bloke to fall for someone’s daughter. Could be worse.”

“Just how the fuck could this situation be any worse?”

He points a thumb at Kane, who’s leaning against the ledge with his arms folded. “Look at Kane. He fell for his ex-girlfriend’s daughter, not to mention the history with the lass’s dad.”

Kane looks about as moody as I do. He pushes off the wall. “If you need a place to stay, you can kip at the farmhouse. Violet’s moved in with her uncle and cousins, so the place is all ours. Maybe we should get a sign up, the lonely hearts club.” He sign writes it in the air. “Losers and sad bastards, welcome.”

“Sounds like a blast.”

Draven walks through the bar doorway into the games room, carrying a pint in his inked hand. “Poppy said you needed this.” He slides it along the ledge. “You look like someone ran over your dog.”

I lift the pint and take a gulp, needing something to take the edge off. All the shot did was give me a serious case of acid reflux, or is that the guilt gnawing away at me? “I don’t have a dog.”

“It’s a good job, or he’d be bloody miserable having to live with you. What’s going on?” He pulls up a stool and sits his arse down. With his tall frame, he doesn’t need to climb onto it.

“Colin kicked him out for shacking up with his daughter,” Dan says.

Draven flinches his head back with wide eyes. “Well, fuck me. I never thought you had the balls to do it.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “You’ve been mooning over the lass since she was old enough to date. I’ve seen how protective you are of her.”

I nurse my pint, staring into the amber liquid as if it holds all the answers to my problems. “It seems I have the balls, but nowhere to live.”

“The spare room’s yours, mate.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Colin’ll come around. You should be fucking celebrating instead of moping. You just bagged yourself a girl… how old is she?” Draven looks around at the guys for an answer when I stay silent.

“I dunno how old she is, but Sawyer’s definitely punching above his weight. She’s too sweet for you,” Dan says.

I knock back another drink and slam the glass on the table. “Why do I come here?”

“Because you’re too tight to pay for a hotel.” Draven pushes off the stool and pats my shoulder with a laugh.

The back door swings open, letting in the cold. The voice of an angel says, “Is Sawyer here?”

I look up from my stupor. “Angelica?”

OceanofPDF.com

22

SAWYER

The stool slides back against the wooden floor as I stand and rush to my girl, weaving through the lads. “What happened? Are you all right?” I take her face in my hands, my heart pounding against my ribs, waiting for answers.

She beams up at me, her eyes bright like the Christmas star. “Dad told me to come and bring you home. He’s in the Range Rover waiting for us.”

“You mean he’s okay with us?” The pulse throbs in my neck, unable to believe my luck.

She nods, her smile confirming everything she says.

“Let’s get him in here for a drink. It’s Christmas,” Dan says, and is out the door before I can respond.

I leave him to it as I gaze into my angel’s eyes, my heart full of hope, and for the first time, I can see myself settling down. She was right when she said I gave none of the other women a chance because I was afraid of commitment, but the truth is that none of them were her.

“Looks like you got your Christmas wish this year, baby girl.” I tuck the loose strands of hair behind her ears so I can gaze upon her beautiful face.

“What’s that?” she asks.

“What you asked Santa for—a boyfriend.” I press my lips to hers. The lads make whistling noises, reminding me we have an audience, but I don’t care. All I see is her.

“I just need a job now.”

“I’m sure Draven will set you up with a part-time cleaning gig.” A chuckle bursts from my lips.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Enough with the cleaning jokes. You’re as bad as Dad.”

“How did you get him to calm down?” I stroke her face, in awe of this amazing woman who’s just saved my bacon and a lifelong friendship with her dad.

She shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know. He just sort of started laughing when I told him about my cleaning job. Maybe it was the brandy Lorraine gave him.” She giggles. “Maybe she slipped him a Valium or something. Whatever it is, I’m grateful we have his blessing.”

The cold from outside blows in along with Dan, Colin and Lorraine. The lads all greet him first, Dom weaving through the crowd. “What a legend.” He shakes Colin’s hand. “You’re probably the only man to land a blow on bulldozer here and live to tell the tale.”

Colin silently chuckles as his gaze floats around the room, then he locks eyes with me. Pushing past the lads, he reaches out a hand. “I was a little hasty back there.”

I shake his hand. All the weight of my problems zaps away. “I’d have done the same. You have to know she means everything to me.”

He pulls me in and pats me on the back. “I know. And I don’t need to give you the talk. But if you hurt her, I’ll break your legs.” He grins and squeezes my shoulder.

A laugh escapes. “I let you have that first blow. You won’t be so lucky next time.” I can’t contain my smile as I look over his shoulder at Angelica and Lorraine talking with the lads. “But you don’t need to worry. If I ever let her down, it’ll break my fucking heart.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels as we both gaze at our women.

“Nice right hook, by the way. I think you may have fractured my nose.”

“It’ll be an improvement.” He chuckles.

I squeeze the bridge of my nose, checking for any permanent damage. It never bled, so that’s a bonus, at least. “I’m sorry your trip to Scotland is ruined.”

“I’m not. I never wanted to spend Christmas away from Angelica. We’re right where we’re meant to be. And if I have to put up with your ugly mug to make her happy, then so be it.” He chuckles again, and it’s as if we’re back to our old selves again.

“I’ll never take her away from you. I know what she means to you. But I don’t think I could’ve stayed away from her either.”

“What would you have done if I never came around to the idea?”

I shrug a shoulder with a small huff of a laugh. “Probably spent a lot of time writing letters, I guess.”

Dan walks through with a round of drinks. “Did someone order a hairy fairy?”

“Oh, that’s mine,” Angelica says, reaching a hand out to take the shot from the tray.

“Angel,” I growl, straightening my spine. I lift the shot from her hand. “You don’t want to be drinking this. It’s lethal.”

She snatches it from me as she rolls her eyes, the poison sloshing in the glass. “Just because we’re together does not give you the right to tell me what I can and can’t drink.” She knocks it back in one go and I swear I can see steam coming out of her ears.

Colin chuckles. “She’s all yours, pal. Good luck getting her to clean her room.”

A smile curves my lips. I have my ways of getting her to bend to my will. But I kinda like her bratty side. I laugh at her, sticking her tongue out as if it’s on fire. “I warned you.”

Lorraine sashays over and takes a glass of wine from Dan. “Thank you.” She places a hand on Angelica’s plaid fleece coat that hides her pyjamas underneath. “Are you all right?”

Angelica coughs with watery eyes. “It was just a bit strong.”

Lorraine gives me a warm smile as she looks between me and Colin. “I’m so glad you’ve sorted things out.” She turns to Angelica. “I think it’s wonderful that you and Sawyer have found each other.” She swats Colin on the arm. “Isn’t it, Colin?”

He grins at me, now with a pint in his hand from Dan. “Yep, I’ve always wanted him as a son-in-law.”

I shake my head with a silent laugh. Hearing it out loud sounds fucking crazy, but if it’s wrong to love my angel, I don’t wanna be right.

Lifting my head, I glance over at Colin. “Does this mean I have your blessing to marry the lass?”

Angelica’s eyes widen, waiting for her dad’s response.

“You’d better bloody marry her after this.” He brings the pint to his lips.

Angelica’s face lights up like a Christmas tree.

My lips curve into a smile. “I don’t know, Colin. She’s a bit of a handful. I’ll have to have a think about it.”

Angelica swats my chest. “Hey, you weren’t saying that the other night.”

Colin holds his hands up. “All right, we need to set some ground rules.”

Angelica folds her arms over her chest. “Dad, we’re not teenagers.”

He holds a finger up. “Rule number one. No funny business in the cabin while I’m around. I don’t want to hear it, suspect it, or see it, and if I do, you’ll both be sleeping in the treehouse.”

Angelica and I share a knowing look and I cover my smile with my hand, scratching my beard. “Define funny business,” I say. “Just so we’re all clear. I mean, I can’t help it if she laughs at one of my jokes.”

Colin glares at me. “Rule two. Don’t expect me to pay for the wedding.”

“What’s rule three?”

He raises his pint. “Rule three. You still join me for a pint after work on Thursdays. No excuses.”

I clink my drink against his. “Deal, but only if I get to break rule number one every now and then.”

He shakes his head. “You’re insufferable.”

Lorraine pulls him away to mingle with their friends, leaving me alone with Angelica.

She slides her hands over my checked shirt and straightens my collar. “If we’re going to adhere to the rules, we should leave now while the cabin’s empty.”

I slip my hands around her waist and pull her close to me, our chests flush. My lips press to hers and I trail a kiss all the way to her ear, then whisper, “Does my angel need her pussy filled?”

Her brunette hair tickles my face as her naughty side whispers into my ear, “Tonight, I don’t want to be an angel. I want to sit on your beard again like it’s a saddle and suck on your fat cock until I reach the cream centre while I ride your face like it’s an Olympic sport.”

“Fuck.” My cheeks heat as if I’m on fire. A groan rumbles from deep in my chest as my dick grows as hard as a piece of oak. “I’ve created a monster.”

She bites her lip, turning her head to the side with her blonde hair. She’s every bit angelic, but I know there’s a dirty little cum kitten inside, desperate for playtime.

Her hands roam over the flannel on my chest and over my broad shoulders as she looks up through her lashes. “I want my papa bear to take care of me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Papa bear, huh?”

Her smile pushes her cheeks up. “It’s what I call you in my head.” She worries her lip between her teeth and bats her natural lashes at me. “Do you like it?”

I press my lips to hers, telling her wordlessly that I fucking love it. “Whatever my baby girl wants, my baby girl gets.” I lift my holdall and guide her with my hand on her elbow as we slip out of the back door into the cold night, but without the blizzard, it’s pleasant enough.

I take her hand in mine as we trudge through the last of the snow. The alcohol in my belly keeps me warm, or is it the hope of a future with her that has me all warm and fuzzy?

The stars shine brighter tonight in the clear sky. A beautiful canopy of lights twinkle above us as if shining just for us in this moment and making up for the sorry excuse of lights back at the cabin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” she says, swinging our arms as we walk.

“Is that because you’re going to get your pussy licked?” My lips curve in one corner.

She giggles. A sound I could listen to all day. “Yes, but…” She stops walking and closes the distance between us. “I’m also in love.”

“With my tongue?” I dip my head and tease her mouth open with the tip, licking at her lips.

“Sawyer, stop.” She giggles as I lick and nibble her jaw, then down her neck, unable to get enough of her.

“You have a wonderful tongue, but what I love most about you is how you love. How you will do anything for me and how you listen to me and never judge me. How I can be myself with you. The naughty side of me and the nice side and you love both parts of me.”

“I love that only I get to see both sides of you.” The chilled breeze blows around us, but with my girl, my heart’s full of warmth. “And I love that you trust me enough to show me every side of you.” I pull her close, my lips brushing against hers as I whisper, “Because every single part of you is mine, Angelica. Now and always.”

OceanofPDF.com

EPILOGUE

ANGELICA

1 year later, Christmas Eve

“Hi Dad.” I put the phone on speaker and set it on a stack of paint in the workshop while I finish a Peter Rabbit design on a set of drawers for Lilly and Shane’s baby.

“I’m running a little late, muffin, but we’ll be there around teatime.”

I brush the matte varnish onto the face of the drawer. “No problem. Did you enjoy Scotland?”

Lorraine cuts in. “We did. It was lovely spending time with my son and his family.”

“Speaking of family,” Dad says. “Any news?”

“When I have news, Dad, you’ll be the first to know.” My stomach flutters. I know it’s just gas from the beans on toast I ate earlier. It’s too early to feel any movement. “I gotta go. I’m finishing a commission. See you later.”

“Love you, muffin.”

“Love you, sweetie,” Lorraine calls.

“Love you guys, drive safe.” I end the call and brush the last bit of varnish onto the corner, then stand back and admire my work.

I place my hand on my stomach, excited that I’ll finally get to make up a load of nursery furniture of my own in the New Year. Sawyer and I want to tell Dad and Lorraine in person, so wanted to wait until they’re back from Scotland.

After deciding not to take the morning-after pill this time last year, I was kinda disappointed when I came on my period a few weeks later, but Sawyer made me promise that if I wasn’t already pregnant, we’d wait until we were married before trying again.

My platinum wedding band catches the light as I step out of the workshop Sawyer built for me, and I inhale the pine from the trees. When my upcycling business grew, he said I should have my own space here at the cabin, as the garage wasn’t big enough.

Water on the lake gently breaks against the shore, the breeze whispers through the trees and whips my blonde and brunette hair from my face, wrapping around me as if Mum’s spirit is a part of the nature surrounding this place and is letting me know she’s here watching over me.

I couldn’t leave the cabin. Dad never liked it here after Mum’s accident and sold it to us so he and Lorraine could buy a place of their own and start a fresh.

It’s just as well, as I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else or raising a family anywhere but here.

Warmth hits me when I walk through the back door. The aroma of roast turkey filling the open-plan space. “Something smells good.”

Sawyer pushes off the mantel. “Are you all finished?”

I nod. “Were you just talking to the wooden deer?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Me and Blitzen have bonded. You shouldn’t eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.”

“He’s a deer. A dead one.” I shake my head. “He was never alive. He’s made of wood.”

“Now you’re hurting his feelings.” He chuckles and takes a few steps towards me, wrapping me up in his arms.

“So what does Blitzen have to say for himself?” I gaze up at my husband, lost in his dark brown eyes.

“He suggested I get my wife to make me a cuppa after my shopping trip.”

I peer around his frame at the bags on the floor. “Did you get everything you needed?”

His hands slide to my bottom and he hikes me up and lifts me over his shoulder. “You’re not getting a peek at what’s in those bags until tomorrow morning.”

My jaw drops when I see a huge teddy bear poking out of a gift bag. “Oh my goodness, you got me a new teddy.”

He sets me down in the kitchen. “Don’t you go getting any ideas about defiling Captain Cuddles. He’s for the baby.” His hand moves to my belly and I place my palms over his. “How have you been today?”

“A little nauseous, but nothing a ginger biscuit didn’t sort out.” My stomach flutters again like it does every time Sawyer places his hand there.

He kneels on the kitchen floor and presses a kiss to my belly. “Your mama’s gonna turn into a ginger biscuit at this rate.” He lifts my shirt and pulls my leggings down under my belly, then peppers kisses all over me, showering me love.

I can’t help the giggle that bubbles. “Sawyer, that tickles.”

He looks up at me with dark eyes. “What time’s your dad getting here?”

My pulse quickens. I know that look he’s giving me. “In a few hours.”

“Does my wife want her Christmas present early?” He quirks a grin as he gazes up at me.

“Yes.”

He rises to his feet and brushes the blonde hair from my neck, kissing me there. “And what side of my wife is coming out to play today?”

Tingles travel to my centre. We like to role-play where I’m a virgin again and he breaks me in and other times we pretend that I’m his cum slut and he’s gonna fuck a baby into me.

He moves to the brunette side and nips my ear before whispering, “What’s it gonna be today, angel? Are you playing naughty or nice?”

Want more Sawyer and Angelica

(not forgetting Mr. Snuggles)?

Look out for a bonus epilogue on my website:

https://anniecharme.com/bonus-content/

If you want more from the Black Crow with Shane, Dom and Kane, get the Sinful Secrets Series… All standalones.

Protecting Poppy

Taming Violet

Pursuing Lilly

To keep in touch and for all the latest on new releases, follow me on socials, join my newsletter or join my reader group on Facebook Annie Charme’s Reader Group, find all my links here… https://linktr.ee/anniecharme

If you loved this story, please consider leaving me a rating or review on Amazon. Thank you for all your support.

Amazon BookBub Goodreads

If you share on social media, tag me, I love sharing. Thanks for reading!

Annie x

Check out the rest of the Dad Bod books by other authors Dad Bod Series Link

Dad Bods And Blizzards by Sylvie Haas

Dad Bod Under The Mistletoe by Coco Elliot

Dad Bod Secret Santa by Lana Love

Dad Bod’s Candy Cane by Jessa Joy

Sugar Dusted Dad Bod by Cassie Mint

Dad Bod’s Naughty List by Cassi Hart

Dad Bod’s Daring December by Violet Rae

Snowed In With The Dad Bod by Annie Charme

Dad Bod’s Curvy Neighbor by Loni Ree

Dad Bod Snow Job by Fern Fraser

OceanofPDF.com

ALSO BY ANNIE CHARME

The Sinful Secrets Series

If you want more from the Black Crow Inn and all the characters from Snowed in with the Dad Bod, then read the Sinful Secrets Series

Protecting Poppy

Dom & Poppy’s story

Age Gap Curvy Girl Romance with Suspense

Taming Violet

Kane & Violet’s story

Age Gap Curvy Girl Mystery Romance

Pursuing Lilly

Shane & Lilly’s story

Age Gap Curvy Girl Off-Limits Romance

Uncovering Rose

Dan and Rose’s story

Coming soon

Spicy RomCom

Hate Tea Love You

A Man of The Month Club Novella

Tease The Season

A Man of The Month Club Christmas in July Novella

Kiss and Shell

A Man of The Month Club Novella

Kissmas Reunion

A Man of The Month Club Novella

When My Ship Comes In

A Naughty Nautical Romance

Twisted Santa

A Sweet but Twisted Novella

Unwrapped For You

A Curves For Christmas Novella

Snowed in with the Dad Bod

A Dad Bod Christmas Novella

The Temptation Series

Forever Young

A Prequel, The Temptation Series

Forever Yours

Book 1 of The Temptation Series

Forever Mine

Book 2 of The Temptation Series

OceanofPDF.com

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I hope you enjoyed Sawyer and Angelica’s story.

I’ve had so much fun with these characters. It’s the first time I’ve written a Dad Bod and I hope I’ve done it justice. Virgin trope is one of my favourites, and of course, I’m still in my age gap daddy era. If you loved this book then you will love my Sinful Secrets books set in the same world. And also Twisted Santa if you like the virgin trope like me.

Thank you to all my readers for supporting my work. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see you shouting about my books. Every message, email, post, share brightens up my day. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

And my team. Courtney for the deer inspo (Blitzen). Victoria Shelton (letstalksmut_chill) thank you for your eyes on this before it went to the editor.

Gemma and Paul it finally happened. I hope you both enjoy the dad bod. (Not forgetting Colin haha).

Thank you to everyone in my Facebook Reader’s group who suggested names. And thank you to my friend, Rosa Lee who suggested Sawyer (and the riding his beard like a saddle) If you love dark romance with reverse harem, make sure you check out Rosa’s books.

Thank you JL Reed for reading this. If you love mafia romance that isn’t too dark, look out for JL Reed’s new series Knights Game. Thank you Billie Jade Kermack for reading. Check out her Christmas novellas, The Nanny Clause and His Christmas Bunny

And all my author friends from all my group chats. Too many of you to mention but you keep me sane every day and more importantly, you keep me smiling. And my content team, Haley, Sam and Julia. Thank you so much for everything you do.

For my ARC readers. I appreciate each and every one of you for taking the time to review my work. For everyone who shares my posts and supports my writing, thank you. I couldn’t do this without you.

I want to say a special thanks to my family and friends, thank you for all your support and my husband who does everything around the house and takes care of all of us like a papa bear so I can focus on my writing.

Last but not least, the other authors in the Dad Bod collaboration and Violet Rae for letting me part of it this year. A professional team of authors who are a dream to work with. Make sure you check out the rest of the Dad Bod books.

OceanofPDF.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Annie Charme lives in the heart of England with her husband, two children and a randy dog.

She is a graphic artist by day and author by night.

When she isn't working, you will find her enjoying time with her family in the English countryside or curled up on the sofa with a coffee, blanket, dog and a steamy book.

Being an avid reader of romance novels, Annie feels that the larger woman is not represented enough, and books about plus size women are very few and far between. This is something that sparked her passion for writing.

www.anniecharme.com

OceanofPDF.com