Dr. Bad Boy

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Dr. Bad Boy Page 10

by Ainsley Booth


  And how far I’ll let Max push me past that point.

  14

  Max

  I’m edgy and restless. I have been all morning, and now as I take the stairs up to Violet’s apartment two at a time, I’m trying to tell myself to chill the fuck out.

  It’s not working.

  Three months I haven’t been laid.

  Three months I’ve wanted more of her.

  And then I saw her again, and couldn’t have her. So this is a gift, and I know I need to be so fucking careful here, but I’m feeling uncharacteristically reckless and wild.

  Walking away from her last night was the right thing to do.

  But if she opens that door and she wants me the way I want her, all bets are off.

  I pause on her landing, making myself wait. Proving to myself that I’m still in control.

  Then I knock, and the door swings open.

  She’s wearing a long, dark-grey sweater that looks soft to the touch. It’s big enough to wrap around her entire body, giving me just a glimpse at the lounge clothes underneath. Black yoga pants, maybe—I approve, most definitely—and a silky tank top, a lighter shade of grey than the sweater. I need to touch her.

  “Hi,” she says breathlessly as I step over the threshold and right into her personal space.

  I curl my fingers in to keep from grabbing her, letting just my knuckles graze across her cheek. She’s soft all over, delicate and beautiful. I let my gaze roam over her as my fingers slide through her silky hair. Despite her carefully casual appearance, she’s gone to a lot of effort for this. Her makeup is subtle. Perfect. Nothing on her lips, but her eyelids are artfully smoky, framing endless pools of the deepest blue water. I want to drown in her.

  And she’s wearing that perfume again.

  I growl under my breath as I tighten my fist in her hair, angling her head back, forcing her mouth up. I had to wait three months between kisses the last time. Now it’s only been fifteen hours and I’m like a restless tiger stalking his prey.

  Willing prey, from the way she reacts, her lips parting to let slip a breathy sigh. “Quite a greeting.”

  “That’s nothing compared to what I wanted to do.”

  “What was that?”

  “Tell you that I’ve been thinking about kissing you again since I left last night. That it feels like a lifetime and I need to taste you again more than I need air.”

  “What did I tell you about romance?” she says, but she’s swaying against me, so I’m forgiven for thinking it was a good idea to voice some of the emo shit running through my head.

  I pull her hair a little harder. “I promise my brand of romance is mostly ironic. Seventy-thirty split between torture and sweet nothings.”

  She laughs gently and winds her arms around my neck. “Oh, be still my kinky heart.”

  I nip at her lower lip, and she gasps, so I give in and kiss her for real.

  I’m so tired of pulling back, of stopping myself from just taking this woman.

  One more afternoon of being civilized. A no-holds barred boundary discussion, then I’m fucking her to within an inch of sanity. Hers or mine, maybe both.

  Thankfully she’s got more willpower than I do, and she presses her hands against my chest.

  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 a yes-totally-serious look. 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.

  I reach over and pull it open, revealing an under-the-sink garbage container. “Ah.”

  She leans back against me, tentatively at first before she wiggles in more deliberately. She’s staring down at the bowl, hard at work, and I almost miss what she says.

  Almost.

  “I have no plans to run away from you, Max.” Her words are quiet, but they’re also solemn, and they get under my skin, where the teasing just skittered across the surface.

  “I think that’s enough,” I say, kind of roughly. “We’ve got enough seeds, I mean.”

  We scoop them from the bottom of the bowl into a smaller ceramic dish, our fingers tangling as we flick the white bits into the garbage, then scoop again.

  Violet picks up a seed and turns in the circle of my arms, offering it to me, her fingers warm against my lips.

  “Yummy?” she asks.

&
nbsp; She has no idea.

  I pick her up and she gasps, clutching the bowl between us. “Put me down.”

  I laugh and carry her to the couch, where I settle her in my lap.

  “You get another little jewel for that caveman routine,” she whispers. This time I suck her fingers into my mouth along with the fruit.

  Then it’s her turn to try it. Her little groan of appreciation goes straight to my balls.

  I feed her another, and another, but then I start denying her. I hold her hands behind her back with one hand and swing the bowl away from her with the other.

  I burst a seed against her lips, then lick away the red juice before she gets a taste.

  When I release her, she grabs the bowl back and mock-glowers at me. “You’re teasing me.”

  “Maybe.”

  “That’s cruel.”

  “Definitely.”

  Her lips part and her cheeks turn pink as she holds it out again, suddenly the perfect submissive. “May I have some more?”

  “Dangerous territory,” I whisper, sliding another juicy seed over her lips and into her hot, ready mouth.

  “I know.” Her lips move as she swallows, then she reaches for the bowl. “You should try some.”

  “I already did.”

  “The juice is so good.”

  Everything coming out of her mouth now becomes filthy in my mind. I shake my head, needing to get the afternoon back on track. “That’s enough fruit, maybe. We’re supposed to be negotiating terms.”

  She smirks at me. “Next you’ll be asking me to draw up a contract.”

  The thought of all that I could put in a contract makes my blood heat up. “I’d like that.”

  “It wouldn’t be legally binding.” A frown flickers between her eyebrows, just for a second, but then she forces it away.

  I nod, acknowledging her point. “On the other hand, it’s language we both understand.” And it would be a commitment of sorts to her that I’d keep her safe. “There’s something about having it down in black and white. No room for confusion or doubt.”

  She flicks her gaze down to the bowl of pomegranate seeds. Her lips plump as she searches for just the right one, then she pops it into her mouth with a satisfied hum that I want to hear around my cock. Filling the air as I bite my way up her thighs.

  Yes, we need a contract, and it needs to cover biting.

  I want her to have a chain of my marks leading straight to her pussy.

  “I don’t want to be…” Her eyes search the room, looking everywhere but at me as she chooses her words carefully. “Kept, I guess. Compensated in any way.”

  “No.” I frown. I thought we’d cleared that up yesterday. “That’s not what I want either.”

  “Maybe spell it out for me.” She laughs nervously. “I’ve never done this before. The formal D/s thing, beyond just trying it out in a club.”

  I’m surprised. “You’re a natural, then.”

  “I’ve read a lot. It’s been a fantasy for…” She frowns. “A while. Longer than I could explore it, anyway. So I’m totally game, but…the reality is a bit different, isn’t it?”

  That I’m her first Dom makes me pleased as fuck. That she’s nervous about it, though…that’s a problem.

  I need to level the playing field a bit. “I’ve never contractually committed to a D/s relationship, either.”

  Her lips curl into a small smile. “And you managed to say the word relationship without tripping on it.”

  “I practiced all morning,” I say with a straight face. She jerks her attention to me, shock bright in her beautiful eyes. I can’t hold it, and I let a smirk slide through.

  “Jerk,” she mutters, but her shoulders relax and she slides away from me, setting the dish on the table. “Okay. Lawyer me cautions you again that this is not worth the paper it’s written on, but…” She grabs a notepad from a drawer in her coffee table and tucks a falling lock of hair behind her ear.

  Studious Violet turns me on.

  Yes. Take notes, kitten.

  “Would you like me to refer to you as Max?” she asks after scribbling a few words at the top of the page.

  I crane my neck to see.

  Totally Non-Binding D/s Agreement

  “I object to the totally non-binding title,” I say. “You can say legally non-binding, but I want this to mean something. Emotionally.”

  Another word I manage not to trip over.

  Her cheeks turn pink. “Right. Sorry.”

  “Maybe we could skip right to the punishment section of the agreement.”

  “Maybe.” Her pen doesn’t move down the page. “So you’re Max?”

  “I am.” My lips twitch. This is fun.

  She sighs in exasperation. “I mean in a scene. Do you have a Dom name?”

  I’ve tried them all. I don’t have a strong preference in general, and I can’t imagine any of them rolling off Violet’s tongue. “Max works.”

  “Not Dr. Donovan?” she teases, but the way she says doctor tugs at me. Interesting.

  “I don’t do medical scenes,” I say gently.

  “Oh!” Her eyes go wide. “That wasn’t what I meant. Just…it’s a title. Doctor.”

  Yes, I like that. Maybe too much. “Let’s go with Max and Violet for the contract, but if you want to call me Doctor mid-scene, that would be fine.”

  “It’s kind of sexy.”

  “You’re kind of sexy. Let’s get to the part where we talk about all the ways I can have you naked and screaming my name, or doctor, or whatever.”

  She quietly makes a noncommittal noise and keeps writing.

  “Violet…”

  “What?” She blinks up at me. “This might be the last bit of power I have with you, right?”

  I nod. “I like to be in control, as you already know.”

  She inhales a shaky breath and nods. “So I’m milking it for all its worth.”

  I laugh out loud at that and lean back in my chair. “Fine.”

  “Safe word…we used red and yellow before. Still good?”

  Another nod. None of this is what I want to formalize between us. “What I really want in a contract are the boundaries of when and where and how I can expect your submission. The details can be more fluid within those confines.”

  She frowns at me. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m assuming you want this to remain private. And for me to be on my best behaviour when I come to your office.”

  Understanding dawns on her and her face relaxes, then brightens. “Ah. Okay.” Her pen flies across the page, then she reads it back. “Max and Violet agree to contain their D/s relationship to their private residences.”

  I nod and give her my address, and she writes it down. “I’d like telephone access as well.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Texting, and telephone calls when I’m at home, only. No calling me at the office unless it’s for legitimate legal concerns.”

  “That’s reasonable.” I think about what she said that first night. Words that have been burned in my mind for months.

  “What are you limits?”

  “For a first night?”

  We’re no longer strangers. I let my gaze drift down her body, slowly. “How much can I ask of you, Violet? What are your limits now that you know me?”

  She hesitates, her pen frozen in the air above the paper.

  “Violet?”

  Her gaze flicks to my face. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright. “I think I said no impact play. I mean, I did. That night. But now…”

  I grin, hard and feral. “Can I spank you, Violet?”

  She nods eagerly.

  “Can I use toys? I don’t have any with me today, but if you do…”

  “Oh.” Her face falls. “I don’t. But yes, that’s fine.”

  That’s fine. Oh, we’re going to have so much fun. “We’ll explore more in that area the first time you come to my house.”

  “And when might that be? Should we figure out days or, I guess nigh
ts, that work for us both?”

  “Let’s say it’s another attempt on my part to be romantic.”

  “You want to ask me out for kink dates?” She smiles like that pleases her.

  That makes two of us. “Yes, I think I do.” I hesitate before adding the other half of the truth. “And I’d like to keep you a bit off-kilter, if you trust me.”

  She tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll want to surprise you from time to time. Hold back details of scenes until you arrive at my house.” A flash of pleasure sparks in her gaze, and I hold that moment, letting it stretch out. Then I drop the rest of what I’m thinking in that regard. “And sometimes a scene may include a mindfuck.”

  Her eyes widen, but she just nods and writes that down. She scribbles a bit more, then reads it over, her lips moving as she reviews her work. When she’s satisfied, she double-taps her pen against the page and looks at me. “Do you want me to type this up?”

  “I want you to sign it. Then I want you to strip and present for inspection.”

  “Right now?” Hope and doubt war for top note as she searches my face.

  Doubt has no place there. “Unless you want to sign it and skip right to punishments.”

  She grins, confident now. “I might.”

  I grin. Works for me.

  15

  Violet

  My hand shakes as I scrawl my name at the bottom of the notepad. Max stands up and leans over me, reading it upside down.

  “Is everything in order, then?” I ask.

  He shoots me a dark glance that makes my insides quiver. “I’m an exacting bastard, you know.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  He holds that look long enough to make me press my thighs together, then flashes a sharp grin. “But this is perfect.”

  A rush of pleasure surges through me. “Thank you.”

  “The fact that you’re still wearing clothes, however, is not.” He touches my jaw, stroking his fingers there before groaning and sliding his hand lower, over my throat to the base of my neck.

  He leans in and kisses me, hard and fast, his fingers tightening against my collarbone. Pleasure explodes beneath my skin where he’s touching me and I lift up and into his embrace, so when he stands up and steps back, I lurch a bit.

 

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