Page 55 of Dr. Bad Boy

I kick my feet because there’s nobody here to see that I’m a total dork about this.

M: I want to see you tonight.

Excitement floods my body, making my fingers shake.

Okay, I type, then delete it. I try again.I’m free.No, that’s not right, either.

V:I want that, too.

Honesty. It goes both ways.

M: My house. I’ll have a garage door opener and a key couriered to you this afternoon. Let yourself in.

He sends the address next, even though I have it in our handwritten contract.

I close my eyes and picture my day. I’m in court this morning, so I have a light afternoon just in case that runs long. I could get out of work by five. Then home to shower, shave my legs, freak out…

V: I can be there at seven?

M: I’ll be waiting for you.

18

Max

Icheckmy watch for what I’m sure is the eighty-fifth time in the last five minutes. This must be how a teenager feels taking a girl to prom.

She’s not due to arrive for another fifteen minutes, and I struggle to ignore the persistent voice of doubt that keeps whispering that Violet’s not coming.

Trust doesn’t come naturally to me. Especially where women are concerned. But since that first night at the Chateau Laurier, I've known she was different. Worth stepping out onto that ledge for.

When the garage door opens, my anxiety level drops by more degrees than I care to admit to. She’s nearly ten minutes early. She wants this.

I wait for her in the living room. My chair affords an excellent view of the entranceway between the front foyer and the garage.

After what seems like forever, but is likely only a minute or two, the door slowly opens, and Violet peeks around it.

I almost laugh at the surprise on her face when she spots me. I have no idea what she was expecting, but I doubt it seeing me lounging in an armchair watching her enter my house.

“Come in. You’re early.” At least I sound confident. Although now that she's here, I am.

“Traffic was a bit better than I expected,” she says, closing the door behind her.

I nod and rise, snapping right to the instructions. Where I feel safe and in control.

“From now on, when you come to me, you will strip and put your neatly folded clothes on that chair.” I point to the walnut occasional chair in the corner between the garage door and the stairs to the upper floor. “You will put on the footwear I leave for you. Slippers, you will always remove when entering a room. Any other footwear stays on until I tell you otherwise.”

She looks at the floor to where I’ve left her a pair of purple stilettos. Jimmy Choos, in her size, which I made note of in her office the night I brought her dinner. I never thought I had a thing for high fashion until I started to picture Violet in the best heels money could buy.

“I’ll ruin the wood on your floors if I wear those inside.”

I couldn’t give a flying fuck about the floors. Every mark she leaves on them will be a cherished memory. “Your only concern is to obey me. And now would be an excellent time to start.”

She shrugs out of her blazer and drapes it over the back of the chair, then slowly works away on the buttons of her blouse, all the while holding my gaze. Fuck, it’s like a slow-motion replay of that first night, but I don’t have the patience for a strip-tease tonight. I’ve got plans, my cock is painfully hard, and I want to get started. “Very sexy, but you’re taking too long. I’m giving you two minutes to be ready to go.”

She shoots me the most glorious smile, and continues at the same tortuous speed.

My gaze hardens. “I don’t think you want me to have to come over there to help you,” I warn.

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