My Orc Santa Claus (Eastshore Isle #5)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Sakkara

Saturdays were for pancakes.

It was usually my favorite day of the week because we slept in late. Then Emmy and I would spend a leisurely morning making a big breakfast together, then we’d snuggle up and watch a cartoon movie or something, then she’d go off and play while I tackled whatever projects needed doing around the house.

But today?

Today was different.

Mainly because I woke up too early for a weekend and just laid there, enjoying the sensation of Nikki in my arms.

She hadn’t stirred all night, which wasn’t surprising, considering how exhausted she’d seemed. What had happened to cause her to move into her car? What was she running from?

My mind flashed to the sight of those scars on her skin, and the rage that had threatened to choke me when I realized they were deliberate. Her ex, Peter. Her description of him matched up with how I imagined a male who would hurt a woman could be.

She’s safe now. She’s not with him .

I didn’t know her history—I didn’t have a right to know her history—but I knew that much. She wasn’t with this loser, and I could protect her from anyone who would threaten her.

Ever again.

Whoa. Sounds as if you’re thinking long term.

My arm tightened around Nikki.

Yeah, I was thinking long term. This female made me think of forever, which had never happened before. I’d known her for months, known her kinks matched mine, but I’d only gotten to know her in the last week. Yesterday, discovering Nikki and Turquoise were the same person, had been like a coalescence of—of something inside me. I’d felt myself sink into a certainty that had my Kteer crowing happily.

And having her here, in my arms, after I’d satisfied her? After she’d told me no male had made her feel that way? Fuck yes, I was feeling smug.

I needed to keep her here.

With me. With us .

Whatever she was scared of, whatever she was running from, I would protect her.

And if I was going to convince her of that, I would have to start small.

Pancakes .

I slid from the bed gingerly, not wanting to wake her. I shouldn’t have worried; Nikki mumbled something incoherent and rolled into the warm hollow left by my body, splaying spread-eagled on the mattress .

My lips curled into a smile. She was a tiny little firecracker, wasn’t she? This favorite human of mine.

Yes, Daddy. Wet for you, Daddy .

The reminder of her words last night—of her taste —had my cock twitching. I wanted to crawl back into bed, to plant my face between her ass cheeks and lick her again. I wanted to sink into her warmth, to feel her come around my cock.

Soon . Seducing her to stay started with pancakes, then we could discuss the cock possibility.

I grabbed my sweatpants and slipped into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

The water was nice and hot and did nothing to relieve me of my cockstand. I stroked myself, remembering the sexy little noises she’d made, the way she’d been ready to accept me right here in this shower last night.

When I did claim Nikki, I knew she’d be as perfect as I’d imagined. I knew she would trust me to make her feel good and would follow my instructions. Just the thought of her blinking those big brown eyes up at me as I sank into her tight cunt sent me over the edge.

Yes, Daddy .

She would trust me.

The thought made me spill, the first spurt of cinnamon-scented cum hitting the tiled wall in front of me, the rest coating my hand. I hid my cry with a quiet grunt, then focused on cleaning myself—and the shower.

I had to be the only asshole in creation who came while fantasizing about a woman trusting him.

Pancakes. Pancakes would be the best way to woo her into trusting me.

Nikki hadn’t stirred as I tiptoed out of the room, sliding a black T-shirt over my head. Emmy’s door was still closed, and I knew she was either still asleep, or pretending to be asleep as she read in her room. That e-reader had been the best Christmas gift last year, and I didn’t think anything I could manage this year was going to top it.

One of the things I was proudest of when it came to raising Emmy was how much she loved to read. Dahshur had been a good male, but he had still been struggling to learn English when he’d met Stephanie, who’d been a no-nonsense nurse without much time for frivolity. Their Mating had been a miracle, and they’d been perfectly matched…but neither had been readers.

In those first horrible months, I’d comforted Emmy the only way I could imagine; with her curled up on my lap, me reading every book the local library had to offer her. I watched her sink into the stories, to lose herself in the world of pretend.

I guess that was easier for her.

She was reading by age five, and up until our move to Eastshore, I was sometimes afraid she was still living in her pretend worlds. But now she had friends, she had family in my brothers. She was coming out of the shell she’d built around herself, and I was seeing her put down her books to play more frequently.

As proud as I was of her reading, I was happier that she didn’t need to wrap herself in her books quite as often anymore.

Smiling, I unlocked the front door and padded barefoot out to the driveway. The lawn and front walkway were still soaking wet from last night’s storm, but this morning had dawned clean and even colder.

Nikki’s car was still unlocked, and I felt a moment’s guilt over that. She’d clearly moved her possessions into this vehicle, and the fact I’d left them unguarded out here could’ve been disastrous.

But the storm had been wicked, and I compared what I saw in the car to what I remembered from last night, and told myself nothing had been disturbed.

It was short work to gather her clothing and personal items into the open suitcase. I considered packing up the rest of her things but decided it would be better for her to do that. All she needed this morning was a change of clothes and toiletries, and I thought I had all that in this piece of luggage.

I slipped back into my bedroom and laid out her suitcase on the dresser where she would see it.

Then, finally, I started on the pancakes. And sausage. And scrambled eggs. And—because I was a sucker for butter and cheese and salt—grits. Yeah, these things were a southern delicacy I’d decided I loved, don’t judge me until you’ve tried them.

To be fair, Emmy had tried them on multiple occasions, and wasn’t a fan, but I insisted this just meant her palate wasn’t fully developed. She ate those little vienna-who-knows-what-goes-in-them-sausages voluntarily, for fuck’s sake.

I was chopping a mango to add to the fruit salad when she padded in from her bedroom in those cute blue button-up pajamas. “Good morning, sunshine,” I teased, knowing she tended to be grumpy in the morning.

Sure enough, she stuck her tongue out at me, which caused me to chuckle. She went to the cabinet and pulled out two plates to set the table, and I realized with a start that I was going to have to explain why Nikki was joining us for breakfast.

Why Emmy’s teacher was joining us.

Oh shit. Is that a conflict of some sort? Probably best not to get too detailed in the explanation.

Wait, why did I have to explain at all? If Emmy wanted to know, she could ask .

“Can you set the table for three, kitling? We’re going to have another guest.”

I could see from the look Emmy shot me that she was curious, but I dropped the last of the mango in, then twisted toward the stove to turn the sausage links, and she huffed and pulled out another plate.

I guess there’s nothing like the smell of sausage to wake someone up, because right about the time we finished setting the table and plating all the food, Nikki stepped into the kitchen, looking awkward and hesitant and damn near perfect.

She was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged her hips, a white top, and a blue shrug-wrap that made her look simultaneously cozy and like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. As we stared, she shifted her weight and tucked that teal strand of hair behind her ear.

She was wearing her turquoise jewelry. My Turquoise .

I jumped into action. “Nikki!” I lunged across the kitchen to scoop up her hand and pull her closer to the dining nook. “Ms. Rios, welcome. Emmy, Ms. Rios is joining us for breakfast.”

My daughter glared mulishly.

“Hi, Emmy,” Nikki said softly with a little finger wave. “Sorry to surprise you. I like your jammies. Are they comfortable?”

Emmy ran her hands down her sides, as if testing, then nodded reluctantly. She even offered Nikki a little smile, then turned her glare back toward me.

I hid my snort by turning away and moving back to the counter with the food. “Emmy, can you show our guest where to sit? I’ll get the drinks. Nikki, do you want coffee, hot chocolate, or both?”

From behind me, she blurted, “You drink both ?”

“I drink coffee, Emmy drinks hot chocolate, but on Saturdays, I drop one of those mini chocolate bars into my coffee. Cairo taught me that.”

I was babbling, wasn’t I?

“Emmy, which do you think I should choose?” Nikki asked.

I returned to the table, arms laden with platters of food, in time to see my daughter shrug mulishly. Well, hells, this wasn’t going to be pleasant at all if Emmy was going to pout.

“Emmy—” I began, but Nikki interrupted gently.

“I’m sorry if I surprised you, Emmy.” She placed two fingers on the girl’s shoulder. “Would you prefer I go and leave you and your father in peace?”

No no no no . My fingers curled so tightly around the platter of eggs it was in danger of cracking, and I hurried to place it down. No , Nikki couldn’t leave. If she did, I…

I had this feeling I wouldn’t see her again. It had something to do with those scars and her living in her car.

To my surprise, Emmy blew out a breath, then shook her head. “Chocolate,” she whispered.

Nikki reared back, eyes wide, and I realized this was the first time she’d heard Emmy speak. I wanted to caution her not to make a big deal out of it, but her expression cleared in a blink of an eye, and by the time the girl turned back to her, Nikki was smiling.

“I think that’s a great idea! Sakkara, could I have hot chocolate, like Emmy?”

I opened my mouth to agree—with over-the-top enthusiasm, the way she was acting—but Emmy interrupted me. “With peppermint.”

Her voice was a tiny sound, little more than a whisper, but it was there. She was speaking in front of someone besides me— to someone besides me? I didn’t mind if she interrupted, not at all. Still, I pretended to think about it .

“Peppermint hot chocolate? With grits and sausage?”

Emmy’s exaggerated frown made me chuckle. “Fine, go get a candy cane from the ornament stash.”

She was up from the table in a dash, and Nikki turned to me, wide-eyed once more. “ She talked to me! ” she mouthed, and I smiled and mouthed back, “ She likes you. ”

When Emmy barreled back into the dining nook, she paused by the kitchen wall where we had our list of Christmas tasks posted. She shot me a speculative glance, then Nikki, then me again. Then she reached up and tapped the unchecked item marked Decorate Christmas Tree , which was surrounded by little glitter hearts.

It was the most-anticipated Christmas prep of the year.

“You want to decorate the tree today?” I handed her two hot chocolates to take to the table. “We can do that.”

Emmy settled at the table and started to unwrap the candy canes. As I plated, she plopped the peppermint into the mugs of chocolatey goodness and passed one to Nikki, whom she looked at expectantly.

Nikki took a sip, then hummed appreciatively. “This is perfect, Emmy, thank you.”

“Just wait till you try it with sausage and grits,” I muttered, passing to her.

She kicked me under the table.

I was surprised enough to laugh out loud.

Emmy shot me a frown and picked up her fork, then looked meaningfully at Nikki, and at the poster on the wall.

I grinned at my daughter. “I agree. I think Ms. Rios clearly is going to be a brilliant tree decorator, and she should stay and help us.”

“What?” Nikki blurted, plopping down her hot chocolate. “Oh, no, I…uh…” She was grinning awkwardly now. “I mean , thank you so much for inviting me to breakfast, but I couldn’t possibly intrude on your family time…”

Emmy shrugged, her attention on her pancakes. “Yes.”

Nikki’s frantic gaze was whipping between us. “I…I had planned on leaving.”

My gut clenched, knowing that’s what I was afraid of. I had to keep her here. With us. “We’d like you to stay and help, please. It would be special.”

I could see her wavering. She turned to Emmy. “Emmy, I know you weren’t thrilled to find me eating with you this morning, why would you—”

Emmy snorted and shot me a glare, and I translated.

“Ems wasn’t upset you were here. She likes you. She was irritated with me for not warning her that you would be here. Probably something about still being in her jammies.”

My daughter huffed out a sigh and rolled her eyes, then cut a glance toward Nikki and nodded firmly.

Nikki pressed her lips together, and I thought it might’ve been to hide a smile at my expense. “Really, Emmy?” she asked softly. “You’re not mad about me…uh…showing up unexpectedly?”

The little girl shook her head firmly.

I could see that Nikki was trying to hide the fact that she’d spent the night, and I appreciated it, from a trying-not-to-freak-out-my-kid standpoint. So why wasn’t I trying harder to hide the same thing?

Because if I had my way, Nikki would be spending tonight, and every night, here in this house with us.

Whoa, you are thinking about keeping her, huh?

Thinking about it? No, as far as I was concerned, Nikki was mine already. She just didn’t know it.

“So you’ll stay?” I asked gently. “To help us decorate the tree? And maybe a Christmas movie afterward?”

As Emmy nodded eagerly and reached for Nikki’s hand, I could see the beautiful woman wavering. She still wanted to run, didn’t she?

Say yes. Stay here with us .

She glanced at me, then back at my daughter, both of us watching her with identical hopeful expressions…and she sighed in surrender. “Okay,” she agreed, squeezing Emmy’s hand. “But just for a few hours. This is your home, and I don’t want to intrude on special family time.”

We want you to be part of that family .

Where had that thought come from?

I smiled. “You’re what makes it special.”