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She giggled, low and throaty, then stood and faced him fully—naked except for the fishnets, hands on her wide hips, head tilted so her dark lavender-streaked hair spilled over one shoulder. “That’s the idea, baby… whenever you’re ready.”
Cal stared like a starving man at a feast laid out just for him. She walked across the thick Persian rug, hips swaying, heavy breasts and soft belly jiggling with every step the way she knew drove him wild. Stopping right in front of him, she looked up.
“Daddy?”
He nodded, speechless.
“I want you to take me to bed.”
His throat worked again. She watched the slow swallow, the flex of his jaw. Then his enormous hand came up, palm rough and warm, thumb settling at the corner of her mouth. She leaned into it instantly.
“Sweetheart—”
“I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to do,” she said softly, holding his eyes. “I’ve just… been thinking about it all day.”
She bit her lip, giving him the sweetest, most innocent look she could manage. “Please, baby?”
His pupils blew wide. The slow flood of black across that soft brown made her ache.
“All day?” His voice had dropped to a growl.
“All day.” She smiled. “I sang that whole song thinking about you inside me, baby.”
“Good Lord, Sage—”
“Take me to bed, Cal. Please.”
He closed his eyes for half a second, then bent and kissed her—deep, shuddering, like he was releasing something he’d been holding for years. When he pulled back, he simply lifted her. Not the careful princess carry this time. One thick arm under her thighs, the other across her back, and she was crushed against his chest, legs wrapped around him, face buried in his throat.
“Show-off,” she murmured into his collarbone, smiling.
“You started it.”
“I start a lot of things, Daddy…” She pressed her bare breasts harder against his flannel-covered chest and whispered hot against his ear, “The question is, what are you gonna do about it, baby?”
His chest rumbled with a deep, helpless laugh she felt everywhere. He took the stairs two at a time, carrying her like she weighed nothing, straight toward their bedroom.
SAGE
Cal didn’t turn on the overhead lights when he carried her into their bedroom — their bedroom now, she realized; somewhere in the last week his and hers had become theirs without anyone announcing it.
A low fire crackled in the big stone hearth, painting everything in warm amber and gold. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Montana night like a living painting — fat snowflakes drifting lazily past the glass, the dark silhouette of the mountains and pine forest barely visible under the low clouds. Inside, the air was warm and scented with cedar, faint cinnamon from the Christmas garlands, and the clean pine of the massive beams overhead.
He set her down on the edge of their enormous carved bed, but he didn’t step back. For a second they just looked at each other — her completely bare except for the black fishnets clinging to her thick thighs, him still in that flannel and tight jeans, breathing like he’d run up the stairs even though he hadn’t.
Sage reached for him first.
“Come here, Daddy.”
He came. The second their mouths met, everything else melted away. Cal kissed like he was made for it — deep, slow, devastating. No rush. Just his big hand cupping the back of her head, tongue sliding against hers in long, lazy strokes that made her toes curl. She moaned into his mouth, fingers working open the buttons of his flannel while he explored every inch of her skin with those huge, careful hands.
He touched her like she was something sacred. Palms gliding over her heavy breasts, thumbs brushing her pierced nipples until they ached. Down the soft curve of her belly, over the wide flare of her hips, squeezing the thick meat of her ass like he couldn’t believe it was his to hold. Every pass of his hands left heat blooming under her skin.
Sage was already soaked. She could feel it slick and warm. She was embarrassed by how fast she got like this for him now. She squirmed, trying to pull him closer, rubbing her aching pussy against the hard ridge in his jeans.
“Cal… baby…” she breathed between kisses, voice husky. “Touch me more. Please.”
He made a low, helpless sound and kept kissing her, but she felt him hesitate again, that tiny pause, his eyes flicking toward the nightstand like he was checking something.
