Authors: Lolita Lopez
Chris smiled and brushed his lips side to side along Max’s jaw. He teethed Max’s
earlobe and then dragged his tongue down the side of his neck. He took nibbling bites
of Max’s collarbone and shoulder before tracing the tattooed image on Max’s chest.
Max closed his eyes and enjoyed every decadent second of Chris’ sensual assault.
The knowledge that he would share a lifetime of nights just like this with Chris filled
him with immeasurable happiness. The realities and compromises required to join their
lives as one could wait until tomorrow. Tonight Max was determined to simply enjoy
their shared pleasure.
Chris positioned himself and pushed forward slowly. Max coaxed his body to
accept his lover’s hard girth. He bit his lower lip as his ringed muscle relaxed and
allowed Chris to sink to the hilt. He rested there, fully sheathed, as if savoring the tight
sensation. Chris lowered his head and kissed the spot where Max’s pulse jumped, low
on his neck. Max slid his arms around Chris’ shoulders and held him close. He filled his
nose with the smell of Chris’ hair, his lips moving lower and finding the man’s ear.
“Make love to me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. Chris pulled back until just the head of his cock
remained in Max’s passage and then thrust deep. Max gasped and arched his shoulders
off the bed. Chris varied his strokes, keeping Max on the edge. He stroked himself in
time with Chris’ thrusts.
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There were no words spoken as they clutched and bucked atop the bed. Heavy
pants and loud moans punctuated their eager movements. Max was close. His sac drew
tight against his body. A white-hot arrow of bliss pierced his lower belly. His asshole
fluttered. Any second now he would explode.
“Come for me, baby.” Chris pounded him into the mattress, the steely length of his
cock slamming in and out with enough force to shake the bed.
“Chris!” Max yelled as he shot his cum in ropey bursts onto Chris’ stomach. Chris
took a few more strokes, each one more forceful than the last, before slamming deep
and jerking wildly. He collapsed on top of Max, his gasping breaths ruffling his lover’s
hair.
“Unnhh!” Max groaned as Chris pulled out and rolled off the bed. He made his
way to the bathroom and returned with a warm, damp washcloth. Gently, he wiped
away the semen clinging to their skin before climbing into bed with Max and pulling
him close. Max tucked his head beneath Chris’ chin and listened to the steady thump of
his lover’s heart.
“We’ll have to move,” Chris said eventually, his fingertips sweeping up and down
Max’s back. “I doubt Texas is likely to recognize our marriage or even a civil union
anytime soon.”
Max agreed with an annoyed humph. “But move where?”
“No idea,” Chris admitted with a little laugh. He squeezed Max’s shoulders. “But as
long as you’re with me, I don’t care where we go.”
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“Come here, Julie. Let’s put on your boots.” Max gestured for their two-year-old
daughter to join him on the couch. He couldn’t help but smile at how adorable she
looked in her tiny hot pink snowsuit. He tried not to laugh as she waddled a bit, unused
to the thickness of her pants. When she attempted unsuccessfully to climb onto the
couch, Max lifted her up beside him and started to tug on the matching boots.
Julie kicked her feet. “No!”
Max marshaled his patience. “
Mon poulet
, if you don’t wear your boots, you can’t
play in the snow with everyone else.”
“No!” She stubbornly pouted and kicked her feet again.
It always amazed Max how very like Chris she was. If ever there was an argument
for nature versus nurture, Julie was it.
“Why not? Do they hurt your feet?” She shook her head. He searched for another
possibility and remembered the baby blue boots with snowflakes she’d just received.
“Do you want to wear the boots Aunt Mac sent you?”
Julie broke into a smile and bobbed her head. She made a move to slide off the
couch but he stopped her. Chris and the kids would finish the snowman before she ever
found them. “Wait for Papa.”
Max quickly located the boots and returned to the living room. It took a little
finagling to get the boots on his squirming daughter’s feet. He tugged her gloves onto
her tiny hands and fastened her hood in place. While she waited impatiently by the
front door, Max slipped on his gloves and pulled a knitted hat down low over his ears.
He swung Julie onto his hip and headed outside. The crisp, cold air of a Connecticut
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Swap Meet
winter morning burned his cheeks. He checked Julie’s hood to make sure it shielded her
sweet little face from the cold.
“Daddy!” Julie beamed at the sight of Chris.
Smiling at her excitement, Max closed a bit of the distance between Chris and their
other three children. He carefully placed Julie on the ground and watched her toddle
through the snow to join her siblings. Pulling a camera from his pocket, Max snapped a
few pictures of Chris building a snowman with the kids.
At times like this, Max was struck by just how lucky he’d been. After meeting Chris,
it seemed as if the entire world had opened up to him and presented its wonders.
They’d chosen Connecticut from a list of favorable states as their main home shortly
after Chris’ impromptu proposal that night in his bathroom. From the beginning, Max
had known Chris would never consider moving to France since he couldn’t firefight
there. They still stole away to his properties there a few times a year. The children loved
the French countryside and were continually improving their French fluency.
Choosing a house had proven even more difficult because of the huge disparity in
their incomes. As much as Chris joked about Max playing the role of sugar daddy, his
upbringing made it hard for him to accept not being the major breadwinner. Eventually
Chris made peace with the issue. They discovered their dream home in a wealthy
enclave just weeks before marrying.
The “twins” had followed almost two years later. Max and Chris had chosen
surrogates and donor eggs to bear their biological children, Sam and Sophie. The pair
had been born just days apart. Seven months ago, the family had welcomed four-year-
old Darren and his little sister Julie into the fold. They’d been adopted from foster care
and were the perfect completion to the Collins-Dantes family.
Having children had required a few more sacrifices on Max’s part. He traveled
much less and delegated much more of his empire’s day-to-day operation to those he
trusted, namely Mac, who had joined the company not long after Max and Chris
married. At first, Max struggled with the change. He’d always been such a control freak
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when it came to his company but once the twins arrived, he was grateful he’d made the
decision to cut back. Compounding the exhaustion of caring for two infants with jet
setting would have pushed him into an early grave. It wouldn’t have been fair to Chris
either. His shifts as a firefighter were just as stressful and left him little down time.
While Max had never doubted Chris would be an excellent father, he had never
imagined himself to be much of a nurturing type. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
His uncertainty and lack of confidence in those first few weeks had given way to the
richness and fulfillment of watching his children grow and learn and make their own
discoveries. Sharing the marvels of fatherhood with Chris only sweetened the
experience.
“Oof!” Max fell to the snow as Chris tackled him from behind. As he wiped snow
from his face, he wondered how the tricky bastard had sneaked up on him. The rich
peals of laughter from the kids lessened the sting of his embarrassment. Sitting up, he
pocketed the camera after giving it a quick once-over and plotted his revenge.
“God, I got you good.” Still laughing, Chris offered him a hand and hauled him up
off the ground. He brushed away the bits of snow clinging to Max’s face before kissing
him. “Don’t sulk, baby. I’ll warm you up later.”
Chris’ sexy grin washed away any lingering annoyance. Max slid his arms around
his husband’s waist. “Promise?”
“What do you say we tire these kids out with a snowball fight?” Chris wiggled his
eyebrows suggestively. “Dinner, baths and hot cocoa—they’ll sleep like the dead.”
Max laughed and pecked Chris’ cheek. “You’re on.”
“Sophie, Darren and I are going to whip your butts.”
Max protested with a teasing frown. “Figures you’d call dibs on the softball and
baseball players.”
“You can’t win them all,” Chris said, moving away to gather up his team.
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Max wasn’t so sure about that. Taking quick stock of his life, Max figured he’d
definitely managed to win it all.
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About the Author
While browsing bookstore shelves as a teenager, Lo discovered the erotic writings
of Anaïs Nin and Anne Roquelaure. Certain her mother would not approve, Lo
smuggled the books home and squirreled them away in the most likely of places—
under her bed. Late at night, she delved into the sensual worlds both writers created.
As a co-ed studying biochemistry and genetics at Texas A&M University, Lo
dabbled in creating naughty tales to entertain her friends. Study for a midterm or pen a
deliciously dirty story to delight her small band of fans? Not surprisingly, Lo is now on
an extended sabbatical from college.
Luckily, Lo stumbled onto the world of erotic romance publishers. She realized
there were other readers and writers who loved and craved breathtaking romance with
the spiciest of love scenes. She took a chance and submitted her first novella. The rest is
history.
Lo lives in Texas with her family and beloved Great Dane, Bosley.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e-mail
address on her
author bio page at
www.ellorascave.com.
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