Page 141 of Papa's Bébé
Yeah. He really couldn’t say that to her.
Although, fuck, it had been so tempting every night since to sneak into her room, pull down the covers, and bury his face between her legs.
He wondered what she’d taste like. Maybe tart cherries or sweet honeysuckle.
It was hard to know with Maya. She was both things wrapped up in a gorgeous bundle.
“He is?” she asked in clear alarm. “Is that safe? Will he be okay?”
That made his hands clench into fists. Her father didn’t deserve her worry. The bastard was neglectful at best, a criminal at worst. He wished he could say something to her. Ask her if she’d ever seen her father do anything that he shouldn’t. He was certain she had no idea her father was completely corrupt. Although the fact that she’d never reported Vince showed she knew something was wrong.
“Likely not,” he said. “But I’m not concerned about him.”
She blinked. “You’re not?”
No. He couldn’t give a shit about that asshole. He cared about the woman sitting in front of him, the one with a smidge of powdered sugar on her nose. He had no idea how she’d gotten that there, but it was freaking adorable. All he wanted was to lean forward and lick it off . . . no, nope.
Not happening.
Keep yourself under control.
“I’m concerned that if he thinks it’s safe he might withdraw your protection.”
Namely, him.
It still had to be costing her old man a bomb. Especially with the extensive alarm system they’d put in.
Although if he’d been a caring father he’d never have allowed her to move into a neighborhood like this.
He’d also have never let one of his cops harass her.
“Oh, I didn’t think of that.” She bit her lip and looked nervous. “I guess if there’s no threat anymore that’s what he’ll do. But . . . this is going to sound silly . . .”
“Just tell me.” He sat forward.
“It doesn’t matter.” She plastered on a fake smile that he didn’t like. “Do you think you should pack your stuff?”
“Haven’t had my marching orders yet, Spitfire,” he said dryly. “Anyone would think you’re eager to get rid of me.”
Her eyes widened. “No! No, if anything it’s the opposite.”
There was silence for a moment, then she scrambled to her feet. “I’m going to get ready.”
“Maya, come here,” he said to her.
“No!” she cried, moving toward the doorway.
“Maya,” he said warningly. “I want to talk to you. Come here.”
“No!” She turned back and stomped her foot. Then she gazed down at her foot and back up at him. There was clearastonishment on her face. “And don’t use that magic voodoo voice on me.”
He gaped at her in surprise as she raced out of the room. Had she seriously just stomped her foot?
And what magic voodoo voice? What the heck did she mean? Those were things he pondered as he followed her.
But mostly he’d wanted to know why she’d looked scared at the idea of him leaving.
He knocked on her door. “Maya, come out here. Please.”
