Dad Bod Under the Mistletoe (Dad Bod Christmas #2)

7. Cassie

seven

Cassie

G asping, I take in the fullness of him. He’s so much bigger than I’d imagined. So much thicker. I can hardly stand it, fighting to hold on to my control as he thrusts into me and runs a hand along my spine.

“You okay, baby? You feeling good?”

“Yessss,” I moan into the tangle of sheets below me, loving the stretch of my body around his. Then I tighten up, smiling when he groans behind me in response.

“Shit, princess, I won’t last if you’re going to do that. You feel too damn good.”

“So do you.”

He presses sweet kisses along the curve of my shoulder, whispering praise and asking permission as his hands and mouth explore my body.

This is what I’ve been missing. Someone who would care enough about me to ask about my comfort, to look after my needs. To give, to take, in pleasure, comfort, and joy.

As he moves in me, my world narrows to this space, this room, this moment with the dancing lights painting our naked bodies in the colors of Christmas.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” I murmur, bouncing against him.

He takes hold of my hair, pulling me upright as he drives in deep. I yelp in surprise, a thrill racing in my blood and pleasure shooting straight to my pussy.

“Only good girls to get to come. Are you a good girl, Cass? Are you my good girl?”

“I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

“Then be mine .”

His pace grows punishing. His hips snap against me. His hands splay over my belly, my breasts. Driving me higher. Wilder.

Until the tension inside me is coiled tight. Until my moans turn to whimpers, and my whimpers to pleas.

When his hand slips between my legs, drawing firm circles over the center of my heat, I come undone. My legs shake with the force of it. Heat floods my pussy as my mouth falls open in a silent scream. My walls contract around him as he finds his own release, shuddering and chanting one thing, over and over.

“Be mine, Cass. Be mine.”

And in the deep recesses of my thundering heart, I think I already am.

We lay entwined in his bed, under the sheets, for long moments after, saying nothing. I don’t know whether to take his words as something spoken in the heat of the moment, or if they might’ve been the truth spilling out of him in a moment of naked vulnerability.

He draws me close, one hand drawing lazy patterns on my skin as I stare up at the ceiling of his room. Like his walls, it’s been painted a deep, midnight blue. But there’s something different about the lights here. They’re… moving. Twinkling.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Mack presses a kiss to my shoulder. “I can see the wheels are turning.”

“What’s going on up there?” I point to the ceiling lights.

He glances up, tucking one hand behind his head as he gathers me close with his other arm. “I told you that I never stopped thinking about you, Cassie. I wasn’t lying.”

“This is Montana?” My voice is hushed, my throat closing in on itself.

“A reasonable facsimile of the star-lit sky we’d lay under when times were simpler. If you look close, you’ll find the summer triangle, right alongside Lyra, Cygnus, Aquila, and Sagittarius. Your star sign.”

“How do you even remember that?” I stare at him. Those nights had been sacred to me. We’d spent our days running drills, working toward our dreams. And at night, we’d goof off with friends, explore the town, watch a movie. All the things you did at nineteen and twenty when you were in a small town, used to traveling in packs with teammates, and still trying to figure out where you were headed.

“All those nights, stretched out on a picnic table next to you, listening to you open up about all that you wanted to do… those were some of the most peaceful nights of my life.” Mack looks over at me, his eyes soft and searching. “And I needed a lot of peace after what happened. This became my sanctuary, my retreat. My sensory escape from the world when I was fighting every day to re-learn how to walk and re-examining all the dreams I had for myself.”

“You wanted to have a long pro career as a center,” I say, remembering. Propping myself up on one elbow, I search his gaze. “You wanted to help your family, help your teammates. You wanted to make a difference, always.”

He turns onto his side and reaches over to stroke my arm. In the wake of his touch, my skin pebbles.

“So, what’s different between then and now?” I frown. “Why is it that when I wanted you so badly that I offered my virginity to you, you said no? Why is it that you’re now telling me that you’ve wanted me all along, that this time, you were willing to have me?”

“Now you want to know?”

“I didn’t want to hear you out before because I was hurt and deeply embarrassed at how I acted, only for you to reject me. I didn’t want to know why because…” I flop back onto the bed and stare up at the man-made star lights above me. “Because what if what everyone said about me was true? What if I was too wild? Too flirty to be taken seriously? Too much, in general.”

I wince and cover my face with my arms as a frustrated groan escapes me. These insecurities are ones I’d locked up, locked away. Deep hurts I kept buried and hidden, but Mack looks at me, with clear, soul-baring eyes that make me want to confess everything to him.

“Who the fuck told you were too much?”

I peek through my fingers and see he’s risen above me. His expression is furious, jaw so tight an angry pulse beats in one cheek.

“ Everyone ,” I explode, jumping from the bed and wrapping myself up in the sheet. “I’m too passionate, too quick to make a snap judgment. I go too hard when I play. I’m too loud. Too big. I try too hard to get noticed. I try too hard, in general. These are the reasons no one takes me on, Mack. Reasons I’ve been given by men who couldn't or wouldn't commit to me. It's why I’m still single and haven’t ever had a serious relationship. No one wants me that way, Mack. So I learned. I adapted. People—men, in particular—wanted one thing from me. Sex.”

Tears spring up behind my eyes and I fight to keep them back. I don’t need to suffer the humiliation of pouring out every single insecurity I’ve ever had and follow that up with crying about it.

Mack stands to his full height, towering above me as he steps close. His brown eyes are ablaze with anger and his fingers grip my arms.

“ I want you that way, Cassie. I want you in every way. The reasons all those stupid, silly boys gave you are bullshit. I sure fucking hope you didn’t believe them.” He gives me a small shake so I look up at him, wet still pooling in my eyes. “You are not too much of anything. You are fucking perfect. Your heart, your curves, your passion for the things you do and the people you care about is everything . Fucking hell, woman, the go-big-or-go-the-fuck-home energy you bring to literally everything is the number one reason why I love you.”

My mouth drops open and my heart hammers in my chest.

“You… what?”

“You heard me. I love you, Cassie De La Cruz.”

The tears trickle down my cheeks as he fuses his mouth to mine, swallowing my broken sobs. When he pulls away, I’m too fragile to hope. Too scattered to think. My own feelings are a jumble inside me, messy and disorienting, like improperly stored string lights that are too tangled to be undone.

“So, why then was I not good enough to say yes to then, but I’m good enough for you tell me I’m the one who got away? That you want me now?”

He sighs and presses his forehead to mine. “When we met, I was living a scared, sheltered life. I told you that I’d been a sickly kid. That my parents had been overly protective of me and tried so hard to keep me in a safe, little bubble.”

“I remember.”

He leads me back to the bed and links his fingers with mine.

“My accident wasn’t my first brush with death, Cassie. As a child, my parents almost lost me on the operating table during the procedure that was meant to give me a shot at a normal life.” His fingers trail down the center of his chest where a faded, white scar rests along his breastbone. “They worried about me a lot. I had to fight tooth and nail to be able to play hockey.”

“A fighter from birth, it seems.”

“Had to be,” he says. “My upbringing made me afraid to live my life. Afraid to bring anyone into my circle, thinking I’d only bring worry to everyone. I didn’t want to be a burden the way I felt was to my parents. It felt easier to avoid entanglements.”

“Is that what I was that summer? An entanglement?”

He lifts a shoulder and squeezes my hand. “At first, I thought maybe. But the truth is, Cassie, I knew you were the one from the moment I first laid eyes on you. I never stopped thinking about you. I tracked your career, followed you to Soltero Beach.”

“Okay, stalker,” I snort, tucking my hair behind my ear even as his words wrap around my heart and squeeze.

“I’m serious, Cassie. If you think you’re too much, then I am, too. ‘Cause even though I chose to recuperate here, I bought this house with you in mind because you once told me your dream future was to live on Christmas Row. I hounded the GM for a job helping guys transition to different stages of their career whether they plan for them or not so no one has to face it all unexpectedly or alone, the way I did. And when they hired me, I knew I’d be near you and you couldn’t just hightail it down the hallway and hide from me anymore.”

“You’re saying you did all this for me?” My voice wobbles, shaking almost as much as my hand as I rise to my feet and stare at him.

“Go big or go home, right? That’s how you’ve always lived, princess. After the accident, I realized it was the only way to actually, truly live. No wasted moments. No living in fear. It’s time to stop pulling my punches and go after what I really want. And, princess? All I want is you.”