All Yours Daddies (by Mirabella) novel Chapter 39

MALACHI

First night in Mykonos was all shades of hot, but I still have to catch up on all the work I left back in Durmont. It’s a good thing I carried my work laptop with me.

Sure, Ronan did agree to let us come with Sarah. We needed to be sure she’ll be safe, and the drama with Aaron Connor wouldn’t push her into the…well, wrong hands. Still, I know my brother enough to know that he expects us to meet our work quota despite this vacation.

I take my laptop and drag myself to the kitchen, fix a cup of tea, and get started with work immediately my ass hits the stool.

It’s 5:30am in the morning.

Ronan and Sarah are still asleep, Jaxon went for a run about an hour ago, so I have the silence to myself.

“Good morning to you, Gale. Yes. I’m doing very well, and you? I’m calling with respect to that. I believe that we were to have a meeting before my urgent trip to Greece? My assistant filled you in on that? Great. Yes. Sure, we could hop on a call now if you…”

The sound of footsteps flows into my left ear, and I look up from the screen of my laptop to the door.

Sarah is there, leaning against the door of the kitchen. She’s wearing my long sleeved shirt from last night, and it barely covers the skin of her thighs. The sleeves cover her arms completely, leaving extra space where her hands stop.

I try to hold back my laughter.

“Are you there, mister Hawk?” The voice at the other end of my damned phone calls me back to reality.

I turn away from her and look back on my laptop.

“Yes, I am. How about we move this meeting to another day? My apologies. I’ll make sure to see you when I’m back in Durmont.” I nod with a smile on my face.

“Yes. Thank you.”

My gaze drifts back to Sarah as I set my phone down. She walks to the fridge, and my eyes are glued on the curve of her ass. I can bet she’s not wearing any panties underneath that.

Keep it down, Malachi.

She’s quiet. Her flames of red hair flow down her shoulders in a tangled mess. Two puffy bags are underneath her hazel eyes. She looks tired. And somehow, still so fucking sexy.

I have to rub my palms over my fucking thighs again and again to keep my cock down.

Sarah grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and takes it down in five gulps. She turns her head sideways—left, right—as if massaging her neck. And I’m stuck there, watching every beautifully fragile piece of her.

From her long, thick lashes that casted delicate shadows across her cheek, to her nose, her lips—I desperately needed a taste of—her long neck, and the valley between her full breasts.

When her gaze locks on mine, I look away quickly.

Shit. Way to be subtle, Malachi HawkThorne.

I clear my throat before looking up at her again.

“Are you hungry?”

She throws the empty bottle into the trash can beside her, pushing a loose strand of hair to the back of her right ear.

“Yeah. But it’s a little too early for breakfast. Don’t you think?” Her lashes flutter as she stares at me. There’s a longing look in her eyes. I can’t place it, but it makes me want to do absolutely anything for her.

I push the stool backwards as I stand, and it makes a screeching noise as the legs scrub the marble floor. It doesn’t take me time to take out some eggs from the fridge.

“We had someone stuck up the kitchen before we arrived,” I say, turning to her as I crack the eggs into a bowl.

“Just in case you’re wondering.”

She nods with a smile on her face.

“You’re cooking?”

“You’re hungry.” I respond.

Fuck. Can she stop staring at me like that?

I know she’s doing it on purpose. She knows what she does to me, to all of us.

“But I can hold on till daylight.”

I swallow hard, whisking the egg even harder. I need to keep my hands and mind busy, else they’ll wander away and make me do something I know for a fact I’m not going to regret.

And that’s what makes it worse.

“You don’t have to.”

Silence follows my last statement. I keep all my attention on my scrambled eggs and toast. I don’t want to think of anything else. She stays silent, watching me with those beautiful, innocent eyes of hers.

It’s just us in the kitchen.

What’s the worst that could happen?

My jaw hardens.

Malachi HawkThorne, behave yourself.

A chill rushes down my spine when Sarah’s fingers trace the base of my spine.

I clear my throat and stand straight, but she doesn’t stop.

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