by Lisa Suzanne
“And she feels the same?”
“I believe so.”
He nods and raises his brows as if he’s impressed by that answer, so I take that as the encouragement I need to move forward. “She’s not just the smartest woman I’ve ever met. She’s savvy. She’s passionate. She’s funny. She’s beautiful. And I want to be her partner for the rest of my life.”
“Are you asking for my blessing?” he asks, cutting to the chase.
“I am. I want to marry her someday. Someday when it’s right for both of us.”
“You think she wants to marry you?
I lift a shoulder. “I’d certainly be honored if she did, but that’s something you’ll have to ask her.”
“Look, Brian. You have to understand my position. I was thrilled when she married the son of my partner, a well-respected doctor. I knew Trent could provide a stable and secure future, and that’s all I ever wanted for her.”
I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that’s not the most important thing, that love is, but he forges on before I can get a word in.
“When I heard she was unhappy, of course that was cause for concern. But when I heard she wanted to get together with some guy who couldn’t even hold onto his own company, well, surely you must see the position that puts me in. She’ll be supporting you. She’ll be providing a stable and secure future for you when it’s your job to do it for her.”
“With all due respect, sir, I do have my own secure future.” I force the defensiveness out of my tone despite his sexist comment. “I have a solid job. I sold my house in Las Vegas and invested the profits.”
The hardness in his face never wanes. “Because your brother has money. Because he set you up for success. And he did that before with your company, but you blew it.”
How do you know all that? I want to ask, but instead, my gums flap a bit as I feel like a lost little fish.
“I’ve done my research, Mr. Fox. I’ve always kept on top of the companies my daughter has been hired to fix, and FDB was no different.”
“I know it looks bad, and there’s nothing I can say to defend what happened. We’ve all made mistakes in life, haven’t we?” I ask.
He glances over at one of the family portraits hanging in the center of the wall. My eyes follow his, and I see a family of five. Two happy parents and three younger children, all under the age of ten or so. There’s a boy there in the photo, the brother Vivian said was tragically killed when they were kids. I recognize Vivian right away, with her long, dark hair, bright blue eyes, and crooked front teeth that were obviously straightened with braces sometime along the way. I wonder idly for a second if our kids will get her teeth or mine.
“Yeah. We all have,” he says, the regret strong in his voice.
“I love her, sir, and I don’t want to waste another second apart from her. I want to make her laugh and I want to hold her hand and I want to experience life with her. Life’s just too damn short to be unhappy or to stew over things we can’t control, and I can’t control how much I love her. I will do everything in my power to make her happy while providing her with security and stability and love for the rest of our lives together. For whatever it’s worth, you have my word on that.”
He sits back and folds his arms over his chest, and I find myself holding my breath as I await his response.
He stares at me for a few beats. Studies me. I have no idea what he’s thinking, and my heart pounds so hard I’m afraid he can see it through my festive green shirt.
He finally presses his lips together before he exhales a long breath. “If it’s something she wants, I won’t try to stop her.”
“Thank you, Dr. Davenport. I promise not to let you—or her—down.”
“I’ll hold you to that. And call me Ray.”
I finally release the breath I’d been holding through basically our entire talk as I grin. “Merry Christmas, Ray.”
He cracks the smallest smile I’ve ever seen. “Merry Christmas, Brian.”
chapter twenty-four
Vivian touches her glass of red wine to my tumbler of whiskey, the clink of the glass harmonizing with the soft Christmas music playing in the background. We’re on the couch in her apartment, fireplace blazing before us and lights twinkling on the tree in the corner. I blow out a breath as the weighty nerves from the last two days lift from my back.
Families have been met, food has been shared, church has been attended with the Davenport family, gifts have been wrapped...and now the rest of the night belongs to us.
We’re both staring at the lights on the tree. There’s something magical about it, something we only get to experience for a few weeks in the year, and once tomorrow’s over, the lights will go into a box and the tree will be dropped at a tree recycling center. But for now, we savor the magic.
“When we were kids, my mom always allowed us to open one gift on Christmas Eve,” she says after a hefty sip of her wine.
I glance over at her. “Is that a not-so-subtle hint you want to open something right now?”
She giggles. “Maybe.”
“You didn’t open enough presents at your parents’ house today?”
“They’ve gone overboard like that since we were little,” she says, her tone full of nostalgia. “Some things never change.”
“My parents, too. Just wait until morning when we get over to Mark’s house.” I shake my head and glance over at her. “Is that what you want for your kids?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Isn’t it every parent’s wish to give their child the world?”
“I suppose so,” I say. “But where’s the line between giving them the world and spoiling them?”
“I think spoiling is when someone doesn’t appreciate what you’ve given them. That’s the line.”
“I agree with that,” I say. I lean over and press my lips to her neck. “Do you appreciate it when I do this?” I ask softly against her skin.
“Mm.” Her response isn’t even a word, and I chuckle.
I trail my lips up to hers, and we make out on the couch for a few glorious minutes. I break away from her because my hands are getting itchy for her skin. I take her glass and set it beside mine on the coffee table, and then I run a hand up her thigh.
She reaches to cup my dick over my jeans, and I growl with approval. She arches a brow at me. “I definitely appreciate this.”
I trail my hand up from her thigh to one of her perfect tits and give it a nice squeeze. “I appreciate this, too.”
The animal in me takes over. I loop an arm around her and shift us so she’s lying on the couch and our mouths are inches away as I settle between her legs. She links her arms around my middle.
“I’ve got a gift you can unwrap,” I say, thrusting my hips toward her.
She giggles. “Smooth line.”
“Yeah? You like that?” I buck my hips toward her again, a little rougher this time, and the giggling stops as lust kicks in.
Instead of answering, she lifts her hips to meet mine as we find our rhythm still fully clothed. I need to be inside her. I need to feel my cock warmed by every inch of her greedy pussy.
I need to spoil her.
I sit up and fumble with my belt and my pants until they’re open. I pull my cock out as I watch her lift the bottom of her dress high enough to give me access. I slide her panties to the side and run a finger through her. She’s hot and wet for me, and I can’t wait a second longer. I hover back over her and shove my dick into her. I’m rewarded with a gasp of delight followed by a low moan of pleasure. I drive into her on her couch, her hips meeting mine with each rough thrust, both of us lost in the moment of lust and passion and this love neither of us has ever felt before. Something is so different about the act of sex when it’s with someone you love, and my chest constricts with it and emotion clouds my vision as I wonder how the hell I’ve lived thirty-two years of my life without her.
I vow not to live a second more that way.
I will love her until my last breat
h, and it’s with that thought I can’t hold on any longer. She feels too good, too tight, too pure. I pull out and come on my hand even though every male instinct inside me is to come all over her body, to mark my territory and see myself spread out over her skin. I thumb her clit until I watch her eyes roll back in pleasure and waves of pulsing pleasure rack her body.
I collapse on top of her as we both heave to catch our breath, and when I finally sit up and look at her, another rush of emotion plows through me. She’s so gorgeous there on her couch, her eyes closed and her hair fluttering around her like a halo. Her cheeks are flushed and a subconscious smile plays at her full, swollen lips.
God, I fucking love her so much, and this primal need to form a commitment with her washes over me.
I will. I just have to be patient.
* * *
“Shit,” I mutter. I squint with bleary eyes at the time on my phone. “Why the hell didn’t my alarm go off?” We’re only running about fifteen minutes behind, but it’s still annoying when you set an alarm and it doesn’t go off.
“What?” Viv’s groggy voice asks beside me.
“It’s nine-fifteen.”
“Oh no!” she gasps. She sits up quickly, pulling the sheet with her to cover her naked chest. I yank the sheet down for a better view, and she bats my hand away. “We need to go! We’re late! We have to be there in forty-five minutes and it’s at least a half hour drive. I can’t believe we slept in. I never sleep past six. Never!” She points an accusing finger and pins her glare at me. “This is all your fault!”
“How is it my fault?”
“Because your alarm didn’t go off!”
I check the clock on my phone. “Oh. I set it for PM instead of AM.” I chuckle. “I fail to see your logic, and might I remind you you’re wasting time yelling at me.”
She shakes her head at me and gives me her best lemon-face. “I’ll store up my anger for the car ride, then,” she says, and then she leaps out of bed and runs across her room toward the shower. I can’t help but watch her ass as it bounces around the room, and I can’t help it when more blood rushes to my already erect dick.
She’s so predictable even after just a few days, and it’s one of the things I already love most about her. She’ll kill me when I tell her it’s really only seven-fifteen.
We promised Mark we’d be over by ten to open presents on Christmas morning just like we did when we were kids. He invited us for earlier if we’re up and ready and want to watch Ashton open her gifts, so I’d like to be there by nine. That still gives us plenty of time for what I have in mind, but we were supposed to get up early to open our Christmas gifts to each other.
There’s always later tonight, I guess. It’ll give us something to look forward to. Or we could hurry up and get ready and squeeze it in before we go. At the same time, though, I sort of think a Christmas morning shower together could be the start of a wonderful tradition.
I saunter naked into the bathroom, and Vivian glares at me some more from behind the glass shower door. I open it and step in beside her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hisses.
“Conserving water.” I grab the sponge and slather a whole bunch of body wash on it, and then I run it over her back, massaging and kneading as I go.
“We don’t have time for this.” She folds her arms over her naked chest.
“God, you’re easy.”
She whirls around, her eyes flashing with anger. “Excuse me?”
“An easy target,” I clarify. I leisurely run the sponge across her chest above where her arms are folded over her breasts. “It’s actually two hours earlier than you think it is.”
She rolls her eyes. “A Christmas morning prank?”
“You could’ve checked your own clock. I knew you wouldn’t.”
“What time is it really?”
“Probably seven-twenty by now.”
She shakes her head. “God, you drive me insane.”
“I love you, too,” I say dryly. “Now turn around, bend over, and grab your ankles.”
Her jaw drops, and I laugh.
“No! I will do no such thing!”
“It’s part of your Christmas present.”
She purses her lips and shakes her head, and now she really does look angry.
“Fine,” I say gently. “If you prefer, I can sit on that little ledge there and you can sit on my lap.”
Her glare deepens. “If you think for a second you’re getting shower sex this morning...”
I pull her against me, crossed arms and all, and kiss the top of her wet head. “What if you sat and spread your legs and I just enjoyed my breakfast right here in the shower?”
I feel her start to relax a little in my arms.
“I guess that wouldn’t be the worst thing. You do sort of owe me after lying about the time.”
“I wasn’t lying. I was pranking.”
“How about for Christmas you give me the gift of no more pranks?”
I tighten my arms around her shoulders as she finally gives in and links her arms around my waist. She rests her head on my chest, and I shift a little to block the shower water from streaming right into her face. “Now where’s the fun in that? I already promised to make you smile, and the pure glee on your face when you retaliate makes it all worth it.”
“I’ll give you pure glee,” she mutters into my chest.
I laugh. “Do I need to repeat my instructions from earlier?”
She pulls back and furrows her brows at me.
“Turn around, bend over, and grab your ankles.”
She glares at me a little, but then to my utter shock, she follows directions. “Fine,” she says. “Only because I want you inside me, though. Not because you told me to.” Her attitude is so damn sexy and so damn her.
As soon as her ass is up in the air, I run my hand over one smooth cheek and then the other. I dip my fingers down and shove two right into her pussy. She grunts out a sound that’s so sexy I feel like I could listen to it on repeat and get off without touching my cock.
I thrust my fingers in and out of her, and just the sight of her standing there with her ass up, her hands circling her ankles...God, I can barely take it. I fist my cock and jerk it a few times in rhythm with my fingers driving into her pussy, and just when I feel her start to tense up, I pull my fingers out and replace them with my cock.
She cries out and I grunt in pleasure. The hot water beats down on us both as I hold onto her hips to brace her for my punishing thrusts. As she approaches the finish line and her body starts contracting around mine, I hold off my orgasm until she rides hers out. When she starts to slow, I pull out of her and jerk myself off onto her ass. The water quickly washes it all away, and she straightens and turns to me. She kisses me hard on the mouth, a silent thanks for a great wake-up call, and I open my mouth to invite her tongue to tangle with mine. We kiss under the hot water for a few beats, and then somehow we stop and move into quietly worshipping each other as we use the shower gel and shampoo with gentle caresses and tender massages.
“Merry Christmas,” I say, kissing her sweetly once we’re both clean.
“I think we just started a new Christmas tradition,” she says.
I grin. “I was thinking the same thing.”
chapter twenty-five
We didn’t have time to exchange presents before we headed to Mark’s place, but I’m glad we left early. We packed the car with all the gifts I bought for my family, and Viv surprises me by adding eight wrapped boxes of her own to the pile of presents. I notice they all have gift tags on them, and there’s one for every member of my family plus an extra one for me.
“What are these?” I ask.
Her eyes twinkle when she simply says, “You’ll see.”
Watching a seven-month-old try to unwrap presents when she hasn’t even mastered crawling yet is sweet. I glance over at Viv, whose eyes are focused on my niece. She wants one of her own—I can tell from the misty look in her ey
e when she glances at me.
Just watching her yesterday with her nephews and today with Ashton tells me she’ll make a wonderful mother.
Ashton goes first with the gifts Santa brought her, and then the adults start our gift exchange. Everyone included Vivian in their shopping, much to my satisfaction. Her gifts range from wine and wine glasses to fancy corkscrews and some ridiculous leather travel case for wine bottles. Mark even got her a wine cooler filled with her favorite bottles, which was somehow both completely over the top and perfect at the same time.
Viv grabs the eight boxes from under the tree and hands them out. The paper she chose has Christmas foxes on it—perfect for the Fox family. She thought of everything. “I want you all to open them at the same time,” she announces.
I narrow my eyes at her as she pulls out her phone to film a video while the rest of my family tears open their boxes. I can’t help but wonder what she did. I catch her eye, and she nods to my box. I quickly unwrap it, and when I lift out the gift inside, I laugh as my heart swells.
It’s a green knit sweater with rows of foxes wearing red and green scarves. Fox Family Christmas is written in large block letters on the front, and the back says BRIAN. Underneath it, in smaller letters, I read the subtitle: The Youngest. I look around at my family as they hold up their sweaters with lots of laughter and merriment. I read the backs of each sweater:
DIANE: The Mom
PAUL: The Dad
MARK: The Oldest
REESE: The Wife of the Oldest
LIZZIE: The Daughter
DAVE: The Husband of the Daughter
ASHTON: The First Grandchild
“Everyone should have an ugly Christmas sweater, right?” Viv says. She grins and her eyes twinkle as she holds up her own sweater that she must’ve had hidden in her purse. VIVIAN: The Youngest’s Girl.
The laughter is infectious and loud in the room. Even Ashton is giggling as we all pull our sweaters over whatever shirts we were wearing before, and I’m in awe of my girl. I have no idea how she pulled this off, but I do know one thing.