and scrubs his hands down his face before lowering his head, his shoulders slumping. “I know you’re not my dad,” he says, and I can hear the strain in his voice.
“I’m not,” I tell him, watching as he slowly lifts his head.
“You’re not my dad, but you’re the man I look up to. The man who has shown me how to be a man, and for that, I will always be grateful and would be honored if you would let me call you Dad.”
I sit back in my chair and look at the man in front of me. The kid who used to wear jeans that were way too baggy now wears suits on a daily basis. His hair, which was shaggy, is now groomed and cut into a style that says he cares about his appearance. Women and men notice him when he walks into a room. Where he used to be quick to anger, he is now cautious in his reactions. I didn’t raise him, but he is no longer the boy I once knew. He is now a man, and I would like to think I had something to do with that.
“I would be proud to call you my son,” I tell him.
I watch his eyes fill with tears. Then he takes a breath and shakes his head smiling.
“I’m not gonna cry about this shit.” He shakes his head again before standing up. “I have work to do. Can you tell Mom that I’ll see her this weekend for Christmas dinner?”
“Of course,” I mutter, my chest still compressed from the sheer weight of what just happened. “You bringing a date?” I ask when he gets to the door.
“No, Dad, and you can tell Mom I said that,” he says before walking out the door and shutting it behind him.
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then I pick up the phone, call Kat, and tell her that I will be home for dinner.
ASHER
“Baby, wake up. It’s Christmas,” I whisper to November, who grunts and rolls away from me. Nothing much has changed since we got together. “Baby, we need to get up. Everyone’s gonna be here soon.”
“Go away,” she mutters, sticking her head under the pillow.
“Baby, we gotta make breakfast,” I remind her.
“Asher, I swear I will kill you one of these days,” she cries, making me chuckle.
I force her to her back before placing my mouth over hers in a deep kiss. Then I lift her out of the bed and put her on her feet.
“Now go get ready to help me make breakfast,” I say before smacking her ass and leaving the room.
TREVOR
“Stay like that,” I groan into Liz’s ear and plant myself balls-deep inside her tight pussy. I swear I will never get enough of this, of her.
“Don’t stop. Please. I’m so close,” she whispers, and I smile and slide back out.
“Not gonna stop, babe. Just hold still,” I tell her again, swiveling my hips.
“Yesss,” she hisses.
“Dada, frewnd!” I hear my son cry.
I stop and look down at Liz, who narrows her eyes on me.
“It’s Christmas!” my daughter yells through the baby monitor in my son’s room. Then my boy starts to laugh.
I lay my head against Liz’s back and want to cry—my kids are total cock blockers.
“You owe me ten orgasms,” Liz says, falling to her stomach. “And hours of oral,” she adds, putting her head under the pillow.
“Sorry, baby. Merry Christmas,” I tell her, kissing her quickly and getting out of bed to go get my kids.
CASH
“What the hell?” I put out my hand in search of Lilly and come up with a small, cloth-covered foot. I lift my head, look across the expanse of our California king bed, and see that Jax and Ashlyn have both gotten into bed with us and are lying crossways in the bed between Lilly and me. I sit up and straighten first Jax then Ashlyn before making my way over to Lilly. Lying down along her back and wrapping my arms around her, I breathe in her scent.
“It’s Christmas,” she whispers.
I smile against her neck. “It is. Do you want your gift?” I ask, rubbing myself against her.
“Nice try, mister. I know the kids are in bed with us,” she groans.
“They are. I guess you’ll have to get my gift later,” I tell her, kissing her
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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