Page 63 of Missiletoe
Actually, that part of our relationship is still going strong, so I think it’s safe to say my sex drive will keep up just fine with my bunny’s for the foreseeable future.
Waiting for him to finish his shower and watching his naked body parade itself in front of me as he put his clothes on was a test of my willpower. I really wanted to make him cry happy tears again.
I wanted to hear him call me Daddy once more as well. That had unlocked something inside me I hadn’t even known existed, and I’m pretty sure I’d conveyed that to Vix with how hard I’d pounded into him every time he’d said it.
When I admitted all of that to him after our showers, he gave me several happy little hops, flung his arms around me and said, “It’s like you were made just for me! But first, let’s have waffles and ice cream, okay, Daddy?”
I shivered and closed my eyes on the lust zinging through me at that one little word. “Maybe you should only call me Daddy during sex, bunny. Otherwise, we’ll never get anything done.” I gave him a kiss and set about getting all of the animals taken care of for the morning.
Vix appointed himself Sylvia and Company’s official caretaker and listened avidly as I explained everything they would need over the next week. Neither of us questioned whether he would be with me to help. It was a done deal. We were just together. We’d work out the logistics of how to make it work as time went by.
We were in my truck and on the way to the diner for breakfast when my phone started ringing. It was the emergency number again.
“What now?” I was harsher than I wanted to be, but I wasn’t ready to go back to the real world yet. I’d only had a pitiful number of hours with my new fiancé. We deserved more.
“I’m sorry, Paris, but there’s been another fire.” Melanie’s voice was exhausted and shrill. She’d stayed at the shelter all night and hadn’t left until Vix and I came down and shooed her out the door.
I slammed on the brakes. “At the shelter? How could there be another fire? We just left two minutes ago.”
“Not the shelter, Paris. Your apartment caught fire. Mike just contacted me so I could tell you.”
“My apartment?”
“Your apartment caught on fire too?” Vix had heard everything because I had him tucked against my side as close as I could get him. He was in his own seatbelt though.
I take care of what’s mine.
Vix wiggled free enough to get to his phone and began typing like a madman.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes, Melanie. Thanks for letting me know. Call in one of our volunteers to watch the shelter for the rest of today, and then go get some sleep.” I hung up the phone so she wouldn’t have a chance to argue with me.
Melanie was a caretaker like me, so if I let her, she would be over at my apartment in a heartbeat. But I’d gotten at least some sleep last night, and I was riding on a sex and new love high which meant I had way more energy to deal with stuff than she did.
We reached my apartment quickly. I was on the top floor of an old brick building just a few minutes from main street. We’d only been moments away from it before I’d gotten the call last night.
I was going to carry Vix, but he waved me away. “You go ahead. I’ll be right there.”
“You don’t know where it is.”
“I’ll follow the smoke.” Vix tried to shoo me away, not even looking up from his phone.
“What about kidnappers?”
His eyes left his phone, and he gave me a little smile. “Don’t worry about them. The current batch is super dea–dealt with. No problems on that front for a little while. Gareth wouldn’t have left me at the shelter last night otherwise.”
When I hesitated, Vix gave me another shooing motion and then got lost inside his phone once more.
I tried not to be salty about it, but even though I hated fire, a couple of them weren’t enough to pop my love bubble. I didn’t like that Vix was texting someone when he should have been paying attention to me.
A helpful fireman told me the elevator was off limits until the chief gave him the go-ahead, so I stomped my way up the stairs to try and get all the salt out of me. I wasn’t the best version of myself when I saw Mike standing at the door of my apartment.
Ex door, I suppose. It had been kicked in, and smoke was billowing out.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Mike said with a laugh.
I didn’t laugh back. I’d been waffle-blocked, Vix-blocked, and love-blocked all in one fell swoop.
“What’s the damage?” I asked, brushing past Mike's attempt at levity.
