Page 45 of Dr. Bad Boy

The little shove is more symbolic than truly effective, but I step back.

“I want to know more about that kinky heart of yours,” I say. “But first we need to peel one of those pomegranates I bought yesterday.”

“Seriously?” She laughs quietly when I give her ayes-totally-seriouslook. I have a plan, and it pleases me that she accepts it without much questioning. “Okay. Teach me, fruit sensei. Teach me the ways of the pomegranate peeling.”

I cup the back of her neck and pull her in for another kiss. “Oh, I’ll teach you all right.”

She grins and takes my hand, leading me into the kitchen. A quick flash of my fantasy, Violet in a tiny kilt, mixes with her words and the entire thing makes me temporarily mad. She squeaks as I lift her onto the counter and press her legs wide, making room for myself right against her body.

“You want me to teach you all the terrible things I know, kitten?”

She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth as she nods.

I stroke my hands up her torso beneath that sweater. The warmth of her body radiates though the thin top and I lean in, breathing in her subtle scent.

I press my mouth to the curve of her neck and suck there, then lower, tasting her all the way down to the neckline of her top before licking up the front of her throat with the tip of my tongue. I steal her mouth when she gasps, and then it’s nothing but wet, rough kissing as I fuck my tongue against hers.

This is just the start, I promise with each punishing swipe. This is how I’ll own your body, kitten.

She groans my name when I scrape my teeth against the curve of her ear.

We’re both breathing hard, and when she reaches for my face, I move back against her for one more kiss, this one softer, almost tender.

It’s so unlike me, and yet I can’t help it, and I’d keep going, but there was something else we came in here for.

She remembers before me, rubbing her front against mine as she cants her hips forward, sliding off the counter and down my body.

Jesus, my dick likes that way too much.

“Teach me,” she whispers as she slips past me. I turn just in time to see her pick up a pomegranate and hold it out toward me.

She’s slinky now, her curves and willowy limbs making her seem, for a moment, like a practiced seductress. This is the Violet I met that first night.

And then she laughs, her eyes bright, revealing a playful eagerness that is also familiar.

How did I ever think she was a pro?

I wasn’t thinking, clearly.

And it doesn’t matter. Because that mistake brought me to this moment, so thank fuck for not thinking.

“Thank you.” I take the fruit from her, then step around her, placing my other hand in the small of her back. “Next we need a bowl of water. Something large enough so this can be submerged.”

She presses her index finger to her lips, thinking for a second, before going to the cupboard beside the sink. She leans over, presenting her bottom to me.

Dirty little tease. Heat swirls in my chest.

Once she’s filled it with water, she glances back at me. “Now what?”

I close the gap between us, caging her against the counter. I reach around her and set the pomegranate in the bowl, then take her hands in mine.

Instead of explaining, I just show her, finding the softest part of the rind and, under the water, ruthlessly press my thumbs into the weak point. As the fruit gives way, I pull my thumbs apart. She gasps as the two torn halves of the pomegranate separate.

She gets the idea right away, running her fingers along the white membrane, separating out the seeds from the fruit casing. The white stuff floats, and the seeds sink.

When she wiggles against the confines of my arms on either side of her, I growl.

“Just want to open this door,” she laughs, pointing with her foot.

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