The Davenport Christmas Chronicles - Piper Davenport Page 0,7

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Ace

I hated leavin’ Cassidy in our bed, especially when she was naked and frustrated, but if we didn’t find the missing Christmas truck, there’d be no presents for some very deserving kids.

Walking into the compound, I found Booker in his office, his fingers flying over the keyboard, and I deduced he was doin’ his voodoo computer thing. “You find anything?”

Booker glanced up and shook his head. “We have several iPads inside and I’m tryin’ to activate the finders app. Just gotta find one that’s on.”

I glanced down at the list. There were more than “several” on it, so I knew this was gonna take a while.

Darien

I closed my laptop at the sound of my husband letting out a series of very loud expletives and headed into the kitchen. “What is going on?”

Mack turned off the stove and slid his cell phone in his pocket. “Some asshole stole the truck.”

“The truck, truck?”

Mack nodded.

“From the compound?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Apparently the camera that was supposed to be on it has been down for two days. Booker’s got one on order, but it’s late.”

“Daddy?” Harper padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “Why are you yelling?”

He hunkered down in front of her. “Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to wake you. Everything’s okay. Just something with work.”

Harper patted his face, then hugged him. “It’s okay. You’ll work it out.”

He stood back up with her in his arms kissed her cheek. “You’re right. It’ll all be fine. Come on, I’ll tuck you back in.”

We had two girls. Harper, ten, and Huxley, eight. I found it ironic that the biggest playboy on the planet ended up making girls, and now he’d have to deal with men like him when they got to dating age. He, on the other hand, couldn’t have been happier. He was a great dad and I knew our girls would grow up to find men who cherished them the way their daddy did.

While Mack put Harper back to bed, I checked on Huxley who was sound asleep and probably wouldn’t have woken up even if a gun had gone off. I headed back to the kitchen and peered into the pot on the stove.

“Pasta,” he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I was hungry.”

“Apparently.” I turned to face him, looping my arms around his neck.

“Did you get your wordcount in?”

“I overachieved and wrote an extra thousand,” I said. “Do you need to go to the compound?”

“Not yet. Ace and Booker are over there now. Why?”

I licked my lips. “Because I just wrote the dirtiest sex scene to date, and it kind of got me super hot.”

I was a romance author and Logan “Mack” Reed was my muse.

He chuckled, sliding his hands under my T-shirt. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“How hot?”

“Nipple clamp hot.”

He tugged my bra down and ran his thumbs over my already hard nipples. “Love it when you say ‘toys.’”

I giggled. “I know you do.”

“I think the pasta can wait.”

“I think it can too.” I grabbed his hand and led him into our bedroom. Luckily, our master suite was on the opposite side of the house from the kids, so noise wasn’t a problem.

Mack locked the door behind us heading straight for the closet and the locked box with our toys while I got naked. With a very inquisitive daughter, we’d learned pretty quickly (when she walked out of our bedroom holding my bright pink vibrator, and asking if she could play with the ‘magic fairy wand’) to lock things up.

Mack pulled a set of clamps out of the box and I bit my lip as he attached one, then the other. Instead of letting the chain fall in front, he wrapped it around the back of my neck, which pulled my nipples up and I squirmed at the sensation.

“Too tight?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Tighter,” I rasped.

He twisted the tightener and I dropped my head back with a sigh. He slid his hand between my legs and ran a finger through my wetness.

“Soaked,” he whispered.

I met his eyes. “Did I mention the scene was super hot?”

“On your knees, Dare.”

I climbed onto the bed and assumed the position, while Mack took his clothes off and situated himself behind me. I glanced at him just as his head disappeared between my legs and his tongue ran through my folds. I ground down against his face and he continued his feast until he brought me to the brink... then stopped. “Logan,” I growled.

He chuckled, kneeling behind me again and sliding into me. I

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