Chapter 2
Cullen
As quickly as I can manage, I pretend to get an important phone call that requires me to leave. It was actually just a warning that my car warranty was about to expire.
Ross and Ryker can finish up with the local bakery owners who are consulting us about branching out. It’ll be an easy endeavor, I think. It was hard to focus given what I just found out about Ryker.
Fueled by Ryker’s confession of love, which I accidentally intercepted, I jump into my Corvette and head straight to their house.
I didn’t spend the last four years telling myself my best friend’s daughter was off limits, denying the ways she looked at me, only to have her stepbrother steal her out from under me.
Her dad will be livid either way. His beliefs about women and marriage are well-intentioned, but archaic. The saving grace would be that I could explain I want to take care of her forever, she’ll never have to work, and she can be the best mom ever.
I’m just not sure that’s what she wants. Her interest in our culinary business is evident to everyone except her dad.
For now, all I have to do is let her know that I have feelings for her. If she doesn’t freak out about me being old enough to be her father, then I can figure out how to break it to her that Ryker does too. If she blows me off, he’s on his own.
Pulling up to their house, I’m pissed that there are three other cars there. I have to let her know how I feel before Ryker does. Because while she’s made my dick hard with the way she looks at me, I’ve seen her give the same look to Ryker.
Unsure what I’m about to walk into, I pull the note out of the glovebox and read it one more time, confirming that Ryker’s a ballsy motherfucker.
I always suspected that he had a thing for Starla, but she’s as off limits to him as she is to me. I’m not even opposed to sharing Starla with him, if she’d like that. I just can’t let him have her to himself.
But if Ryker’s willing to cross the line, I can’t hold back any longer. I can’t let the bond between Ross and me prevent my one chance at love. I can’t ignore that Starla and I have shared more lingering glances than is appropriate.
It’s not my fault his damn daughter is the only one to ever make me want to settle down. I have to rub my hand over my jeans to beg my cock to give me a break.
Ross and I go way back, basically growing up as brothers, so I never have to knock. Letting myself in, I nod at someone I presume is Starla’s friend who’s at the sink.
Starla’s a few feet away cooking and doesn’t realize I’ve entered. She’s in the same thin tank top she was wearing earlier but has pulled her hair into a pony tail.
Assessing what’s going on in the living room, it looks like another friend, a blond, is getting fitted in a skimpy red-and-white dress. I’d come undone if I saw Starla in something like that.
Is this what girls do when they’re alone? There are also jewelry making things on the table. Whatever’s going on is weird to say the least, but I don’t let that stop me.
I stride straight to Starla, stopping behind her, caging her against the counter. If I was still the younger version of myself, I wouldn’t be able to stop an erection from prodding her, but I’m using every bit of my willpower not to freak her out.
Wrapping my arms around her like this is so much more intimate than the hug she gave me earlier. “I want whatever you're cooking.”
She’s an incredible cook, and if her father didn’t think that only men could run a business, we’d be wise to include her. I’ve always been pretty sure Ryker felt the same way, and that was why he converted one of the spare bedrooms into a kitchen studio for her to run her cooking vlogs out of.
Ross thought it was a waste of space, but liked getting to taste-test everything, so he didn’t complain.
I try to dip my finger into the bowl, but she swats me. “Don't put your grimy fingers in there. Who knows where they’ve been.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I can’t keep my cock from twitching. Carrying out my plan, despite the audience, I say, “I know where I want them to be.”
Her body goes tense before she gathers herself. “You’ll have to wait. I’m getting this ready for the eggnog competition at the festival tonight.”
“Pretty please. Give me a taste,” I beg.
She elbows my arm out of the way and gets a clean spoon from the drawer, dips it in the bowl, then lifts it over her shoulder. Leaning closer, I fantasize about licking other kinds of creamy goodness off of her.
Is my groan too much for an eggnog sample? Maybe, but it’s nothing compared to how my body wants to react to her.
Then I notice the drip on her collarbone. I drag a finger through it then suck my finger clean. My plan is playing out as best as I could hope for, given the three other women here.
Starla giggles, her shoulders raise, and I realize another drip has buried itself in her cleavage. She’s definitely into this, which takes away any question whether the feelings I have for her are mutual.
“Looks like I missed some.” I reach around, getting far more pleasure from where my finger is than what I’m wiping off of her. If we could get rid of her friends, I’d cover her in my cum, drag my finger through it, and feed it to her.
“Stop it, Cullen.” Starla’s tone makes it clear that’s the last thing she wants. My cock sees no reason to play it safe.
Someone in the living room says something but I’m too focused on Starla to care until she blurts out, “I should go next.”
In a heartbeat, she wiggles away from me to be next at something, bringing my efforts to an end. Not to worry though, I’ve left my mark.
“Would you like some french toast casserole?” the woman by the sink asks.
Never missing a chance for food, although I’m not sure who made it, I take a piece. It also gives me a reason to stay. It’s damn good, but as I finish, I nearly choke when Starla returns in a festive dress as revealing as the one her friend was wearing.
She mentioned the Krampusnach festival tonight, but she’ll freeze in that short thing. And while I don’t know much about sewing, it doesn’t seem like there’s time to get it ready.
Starla looks at me from under her lashes, completing the seduction. Her coy smile catches me off guard and I realize I’m shaking my head. What she doesn’t know is that I’m imagining bending her over the counter, holding that short excuse of a skirt out of the way, and fucking her.
Ryker has no idea what his little note has unlocked in me. Thinking about it reminds me that I need to talk to him.
“What are you wearing, young lady?” Ross’ voice bellows from the front door. “I thought you were entering the eggnog contest, not the…” He gestures wildly.
I can only imagine what’s going through his head seeing his little girl with her tits spilling over the top of the dress and her bare legs drawing equal attention.
“It's not for tonight.” Starla’s response gives me a little relief, but I still wonder where she’d wear it.
Ryker walks in behind Ross. Both stare, wide-eyed, but the lust in Ryker’s eyes is completely different than the disapproval in Ross’.
“Where do you plan on wearing it?” Ross asks the million-dollar question. I also want to know the answer, but for a totally different reason.
“It’s for a Christmas thing.”
“Thing?” Ross won’t let that fly.
She stands a little taller.“It’s a Christmas charity auction.”
Fuck no! There’s only one charity auction this dress would be appropriate for… The Christmas Cherry Auction.
And apparently her dad’s heard of it, because he calls her out. To my surprise she confesses. It hits me how I can see the gorgeous woman she’s become and not realize she might participate.
Sure, late at night when I fist my cock and imagine sinking into her pussy, I acknowledge she might be a virgin, but I never dared toy with the thought otherwise. My forbidden fantasy had to stay a secret.
But I lose control. “There’s no way my best friend’s daughter is going to sell her virginity.”
A split-second before my mouth opened, I thought the statement was going to sound protective in a fatherly way, but it leaves me feeling vulnerable, that I was too close to revealing that I care about her.
She might not want Ryker or me. She might have just been toying with us. She’s bound to know how the other auctions went, which means she wants a group of men to win her. Jealousy and possessiveness roll through my veins.
“It’s not a big deal, and it’s for charity,” Starla says, like she’ll be selling baked goods in front of the grocery store.
Ross looks like he’s about to break. “Having sex with the highest bidder, whoever that stranger might be, is definitely a big deal. You need to wait until–”
“That’s Puritanical bullshit!” She stands her ground.
“It’s about your safety.” I cover the ground between us and tower over her.
“You can’t just go off fucking strangers.” Ryker looks betrayed.
With my insider information about his feelings for her, I can understand why.
Starla spouts something about double standards for women and asks whether her dad had sex outside of wedlock, then turns her ire on Ryker and me, asking if we’ve ever had sex. It’s not at all the same. Then again, she’s not entirely wrong.
There has to be a way to talk sense into her, but it might blow up in my face if I announce that I love her right now. I shift my gaze to Ryker momentarily. There’s pain in his expression, but if the two of us get her away from her dad, maybe we can talk her out of participating.
“We’re all doing it,” her blond friend says, and it clicks in my head that Starla wouldn’t have done this on her own.
It gives me an ounce of hope, but Ross is livid.
“Whatever night the auction is, you’re grounded.”
“I’m twenty-two, you can’t ground me.”
“My roof, my rules. You are not going to that auction.”