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“Thank you. You’re crazy but… thank you.”
SAGE
He was ridiculous. Absolutely, gloriously ridiculous.
“Who buys a car for Christmas?!” Sage blurted the second the rest of the family disappeared back inside, leaving her and Cal alone on the wide front porch. She gestured dramatically at the gleaming black Expedition still sitting in the driveway with its ridiculous red bow. “You restored my Jeep, threw a huge party, bought everybody presents, and got Annie and the kids a brand new car…”
Cal leaned against the railing, looking entirely too smug for his own good. “Yup,” he drawled, that deep voice warm with satisfaction. “I know.”
Sage narrowed her eyes at him, but she couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips.
Oh, I’m so going to get you for this.
She took one slow, deliberate step toward him, letting her hips sway just a little. His smug expression faltered. He instinctively took a half-step back.
“Hey…” she purred, voice dropping into that low, dangerous register he loved. “Remember how last night you said you wanted to go slow?”
Cal nodded, suddenly cautious, those storm-gray eyes watching her like she might pounce. “Yeah…”
“Well, if you keep doing nice things like this…” She closed the distance, backing him up until his broad back hit the porch railing. He looked like he was seriously debating vaulting over it.
Sage trapped him there, her small hands sliding up his massive chest, over the hard planes of his stomach, and then lower — bold and unapologetic. Her fingers rubbed slow, teasing circles over the thick, growing bulge in his jeans. She felt him throb instantly under her touch, hot and heavy even through the denim.
“Mmm… this is what I’m talking about,” she murmured, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Cal’s breath hitched hard, a rough, broken sound that fogged in the crisp winter air. “Baby girl… we—people—Christmas!—” he managed, voice gravel-rough and already fraying at the edges. His eyes fluttered half-shut as Sage pressed her palm firmer against the thickness of him, stroking slow and deliberate through the stiff denim.
She could feel every inch of him responding — the heavy, insistent throb pulsing against her hand, the way the thick shaft swelled and hardened further under her touch, straining hot and urgent against the fabric. Even through the layers, he was blazing, the sheer girth of him making her fingers stretch wide as she rubbed teasing circles right over the sensitive crown.
Oh God I’m getting so wet. Again. And it’s barely noon!
Cal’s massive frame shuddered, hips twitching forward into her touch despite himself. The cold porch railing pressed into his back, but all she felt was the furnace heat rolling off his body, his breath coming in short, visible puffs that mingled with hers in the frosty morning light.
Sage looked up at him with pure, fake innocence, her voice turning sweetly bratty. “Hmm, Daddy? Did you say something? I was a little distracted by your big fucking cock.”
A low, helpless moan rumbled out of him. “Baby… I…”
She laughed — bright, delighted — and suddenly climbed him like a tree, wrapping her legs around his waist. Cal caught her automatically, those huge hands cupping her ass as she pulled his face down into a deep, hungry kiss.
“I’m kidding,” she whispered against his lips when they broke for air. Then, softer, “Well… no, not really. I’m being dead fucking serious. But I guess you’re gonna make things pretty awkward if you walk back in there with that…scaring the whole family.”
Cal stared down at her, eyes swimming with love, exasperation, and raw want. A deep laugh finally broke free from his chest. “What am I gonna do with you?”
Sage kissed him again, slow and sweet this time, then leaned in to whisper hot against his ear, “I can think of a couple things… but they’re probably better saved for tonight, when everyone finally leaves.”
Cal sighed — half groan, half surrender — and hugged her closer, gently carrying her toward the front door like she weighed nothing.
“Okay… okay, princess. You win. Again.”
Sage grinned against his neck, curling into his warmth. She lifted one finger and traced a little “1” in the air between them, singing in her sweetest, most teasing voice, “Princess one… Daddy zero.”
Their laughter mingled, warm and bright, as Cal carried her back inside the house — straight into the heart of the family that was slowly becoming theirs.
Of course she’d seen the presents early that morning, before anyone else had stirred. The ones with her name on them. “From Santa,” the tags read in Cal’s deep, sure handwriting. But she knew. Every single one was from him.
A whole section of the tree, just hers.
It overwhelmed her.
