CHAPTER 20
Kip’s world tilted, then righted itself as Trace’s broad shoulder pressed into her belly and the stairs creaked under his boots. She tried to scream, but the sound came out breathless and giddy. She should protest, right? All she could manage was to squeal like the girl she was and kick her socked feet. The flannel of his shirt rode up her thighs, cool air kissing the backs of her legs even through her jeans. And each step bounced her against hard muscle and heat. By the time he shouldered the bedroom door shut and the lock clicked, her pulse was already drumming between her legs.
He set her down as if she were made of spun sugar. His hands slid from her waist to her hips to steady her. In the air, she could still catch the faint scent of the sweet cocoa they’d shared earlier. Firelight licked across his face, casting the sharp line of his jaw in golds and shadows.
Trace folded his arms, one brow arched in that dangerous, playful way that always made her stomach flip. “All right, little girl. Why exactly did you say my ornament needed to be opened in private?”
Kip bit her lip, cheeks burning. Maybe this was a bad idea. Dropping her gaze to the floor, she gathered her courage. She’d never been this daring before. Raising her gaze to his chest, she managed to say, “Because, Daddy… mine is special. I sort of, um, filled your ornament with edible glitter.”
When Trace didn’t speak, Kip braced herself and lifted her eyes to his face. What she saw ignited sparks of heat straight to her core. His eyes had gone almost black, pupils blown wide, swallowing the warm brown she loved until only a thin ring of fire remained. The muscle in his jaw flexed once, twice, and the air between them crackled like the moments before a lightning strike.
“Edible, huh?” The words came out rough, scraped raw.
“Uh-huh.” Her voice came out breathy, small. “But it won’t work like I planned if you stay dressed.”
He gave one slow nod, the kind that made her knees wobble. “Well, I always like to stick to a plan once it’s made.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, then lower, lingering on the way his flannel gaped open at her chest. “How should we handle this?”
Her heart skittered, a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. “I could help you,” she whispered. “I mean, if you’d like me to.”
A low, hungry sound rumbled out of him. “Oh, I’d like, babygirl. I’d like that very much.”
The permission in his voice sent a rush of liquid heat between her thighs. She stepped forward on shaky legs, the thick rug soft beneath her bare feet, and reached for the top button of his flannel. Her fingers brushed his warm skin and hard muscle. At her touch, he inhaled sharply, the sound filling the silence of the room.
Slowly, she worked each button free, feeling him watch her. By the third button, her hands trembled, but not from cold or fear. The slickness of her own arousal coated the lips of her pussy. How could something as simple as unbuttoning his shirt be so erotic?
When his shirt finally parted, she pushed it off his broad shouldersand let it drop. The firelight highlighted the ridges of his chest and abs. Before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and ran her tongue along each one. Though he tried to stifle a moan, she heard it. It gave her the courage to trace the dark trail of hair that arrowed down his abs with her hand.
Her palms traced over his skin. She’d never felt more alive. The fact that he was hers stole her breath. Pure feminine power surged through her at the tremor that passed through him when her thumbs brushed his nipples. She pressed her lips to each one, tasting him. That earned her a groaned, “Holy hell, Foxy. That feels incredible.”
Hooking her fingers in his belt, she tugged on the leather, warmed by the heat of his body. When she pulled, the buckle clinked open, she dragged his belt through the loops and tossed it on a nearby chair.
Dropping to her knees, she unbuttoned his jeans and ran her tongue along his skin at the waist. Another groan rumbled from his chest, and he tunneled his fingers into her hair. As she dragged the zipper down tooth by tooth, his cock jerked against the denim like it already knew what came next.
Trace stood completely still, allowing her to control the pace, but she could feel the tension coiling in him from the way his abs flexed each time her knuckles brushed his skin. She pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down together, freeing him. His cock sprang free, heavy and hot, and the low rumbling falling from his throat made her pussy clench hard.
When he was finally, gloriously naked, the firelight flickering over every hard inch of him, he reached for her. “My turn, Foxy,” he growled, his voice as rough as gravel. “My little girl’s overdressed.”
Before she could answer, his hands slipped under her sweater, palms gliding up her sides, thumbs brushing the underside of herbreasts. Even through the lace of her bra, her nipples hardened and throbbed. He pulled her top over her head and removed her bra. The cool air kissed her skin for only a heartbeat before his mouth found her, hot and open on the curve of her neck.
Soon her jeans and panties joined her top and bra in a pile on the floor. “There we go,” he murmured against her collarbone, lips brushing the frantic beat of her pulse. “That’s better. Now the plan can work exactly right.”
Encouraged, she cracked the ornament against her palm. A soft pop, then a shimmering cloud of scarlet dust burst free, raining down in a glittering arc that sparkled in the firelight. She’d aimed low on purpose. The glitter kissed his chest, his abs, and finally settled in a perfect, sparkling line over the thick, hard length of his shaft.
Trace hissed, a sharp exhale through his teeth. “Fuck, Foxy.”
“Soon, Daddy.” She dropped to her knees before he could say another word, the rug a soft cushion for her knees. She stared at his gorgeous cock, then slowly ran her eyes up his body to meet his gaze. “Oopsie, I guess I have to clean up my mess.”
Was that her voice sounding so sultry? His lids lowered as he narrowed his focus solely on her.
The first slow lick drew a groan from deep within his chest. It turned out glitter tasted like blueberries, sugar and sin. She swirled her tongue around the head, tracing every ridge, lapping the sparkle away inch by inch. His fingers threaded into her hair, not to guide but to anchor her to him. As if he couldn’t help himself, his hips flexed forward on a ragged exhale.
“Christ, baby. That mouth. His voice was raw with need. “That’s it… clean up your mess, baby girl… fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.”
She hummed, wrapping her lips around him and taking him deeper, cheeks hollowing. The stretch burned sweet at the cornersof her lips, the weight of him heavy and perfect on her tongue. His thighs tensed under her palms, his coarse hair rasping against her skin. His muscles flexed every time she fluttered her tongue just right. When she finally pulled off with a soft pop, his cock was clean, glistening only with her, and harder than steel. Around her lips were sparkles and blue glitter.
Trace stared down at her, eyes hungry. “Naughty little fox,” he rumbled, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Think that was cute, do you?”
Her pulse spiked, heat flooding her cheeks and between her legs. She knew that tone.
