If Only In Our Dreams (Christmas Daddies, #3)

by Fae Quin

Because…while my bubble remained small, today I had learned that it was still large enough to accommodate a tiny, black-clad emo twink. An emo twink that I was going to need to find, so that I could properly apologize. And perhaps…maybe thank for reading my book. Which I still couldn’t believe had really happened. It felt surreal at best.

“You’re not fucking it up,” he disagreed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re just…super fucking awkward dude. But in a cute way. I mean…the photo album was pretty extra, but I super appreciate it.” “I don’t want to be creepy.”

“Yes,” I admitted, because it was true. Men often made comments about my hands when I had my fingers inside them. Not that I thought that was an appropriate thought to share. “Bet they feel real good inside somebody,” Robin mused thoughtfully. I choked. “I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “Bet your cock’s big too.” “Jesus Christ.” I pinched my eyes shut, face bright red.

“A doctor?” Robin grinned. “Big hands, big dick, not afraid of gay sex, would wear nail polish, writes smut, and is a doctor.”

Praise kink. He might have a praise kink. My head spun. Stop thinking about his kinks, Ben, and feed him. He looks hungry.

And when he glanced up at me, grin softer than before, a private, giddy thing, I decided right then and there that I would make him smile like that as many times as I possibly could before he went back home, my dignity and dislike of the holidays be damned.

“Don’t you mean, hang on tight spider monk—eeeeeeee!” My screech turned into laughter as the sled pushed off and the world blurred white.

“If I’d known one day I’d lose your father I wouldn’t have changed anything.” My heart lurched, and I tipped my head down to see her, our eyes meeting. The sincerity in her gaze made me ache. “Even though it caused so much pain?” “He was worth it,” she said simply, giving my elbow another squeeze. “Good things are worth hurting for. He may be gone now, but his memory lives on. In each of you kids and the families and lives you build.”

In his bed, I wasn’t poison. I was just me. And he was Ben.