Page 115 of Dr. Bad Boy

I laugh despite my confused nerves. “Bob?”

“Bob the Bear.”

“That’s cute.” My voice shakes a little. I think I’m crashing from the stress of not knowing earlier where we stood, because the beariscute and it’s a sweet thing for Max to do.

He looks at me earnestly. “I want you and the baby to be comfortable here.”

Ah. Of course. My stomach does a disappointed flop, even though I know better, but expectations are a funny thing—deep down I have to admit I’d been hoping for a bit more commitment than just clearing space so baby and I can sleep over. I quickly pack away my disappointment. I’ve got Christmas and sleepovers, and that’s more than I had an hour ago. "Okay."

He takes my hand. "Just like that?"

I shrug. "Sure."

"Is it too fast to ask you to stay here?"

"I stay here on weekends already," I point out.

He nods. "Right."

"So…dinner?" I smile brightly.

He tugs me closer. "In a minute." His mouth brushes over mine, softly at first, then a bit more insistent. "I'm going to show you," he whispers. "I’m going to figure out how to be the guy you need."

44

Max

For the firsttime in thirty-five years, I wake up on Christmas morning filled with what feels suspiciously like good cheer. Violet’s still asleep next to me, her body warm and soft. I should get out of bed and make her breakfast, but removing myself is proving difficult.

This is the third morning in a row I’ve woken up with my cock pressed against her ass. The third morning in a row I’m going to roll away from that delicious temptation and go do something domestic because who-the-fuck knows where things stand with us sexually. Emotionally, we’re in a good place, I think. I hope. But sexually…she’s the mother of my child. I don’t think she wants me to degrade her and spank her ass.

At this point, I’d take whatever vanilla sex might be on offer—except none is.

My dick flexes at the thought of being buried inside her, and she wiggles against me. “Mmm. Max…”

Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ. My willpower is not this strong. Not when I haven’t heard that kind of sound come out of her mouth in more than a week. We’ve been inching back to a good place, but something isn’t clicking just yet. I curve my arm around her waist and press my mouth to her neck. “Good morning.”

“Merry Christmas,” she whispers. Her eyes are still closed. I’m not sure she’s awake. She rubs her bottom against me again and my stomach flips. My thighs actually shake from the pressure it takes to not thrust against her.

“You want coffee?”

She makes a little groaning, thinking sound, then shakes her head. “I want you.”

Heat flares through me. “Are you sure?”

She takes my hand and slides it down her belly, between her legs. She’s dripping for me, and I lose my mind. “I’ve missed you,” I growl as I stroke through her folds, finding her clit and rolling my fingertips around it. She’s so responsive, her hips moving as I touch her.

“Me?” she whispers. “Or your kitten?”

Just goes to show that I don’t know anything. I pinch her clit, making her gasp before I haul her thigh up on top of mine and slap the soft skin right where her leg meets her sex. “Is that what you want? You want a little holiday kink to start your Christmas right?”

“Yes, please.” She moans and twists in my arms as my cock finds its way between her legs. “Oh, Max. Yes.”

The first wet touch of her cunt against the head of my erection is a short-circuit for my brain. He wants in. I want in. Just the tip, just for a second.

Fucking hell, that’s how we ended up here, isn’t it? I laugh to myself as I wrap my fist around my erection and nudge the head through her folds.

“What?” she asks, the word cutting off as I start to push inside her.

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