Waking up to two little kids crying in their crib, I stretch out on the bed slowly adjusting to the morning sun. I fell asleep in my cut and my body is sweaty and sticking to it uncomfortably. Sitting up to take it off, I wince from the soreness in my clit and sex. Zeek told me he was going to fuck me like a bad girl, and he did.

Zeek grumbles as he begins to wake up, his hand flailing over me and grabbing onto my left titty as if it’s his morning coffee to wake him up.

I giggle and slap his naked ass that is face up before grabbing my police academy shirt from my dresser drawer and shrugging it on.

Stepping past the bed, Zeek reaches out and grabs my arm.

“Babe, how is everything at work?”

My brows furrow, not sure what he means.

“I was told your locker was vandalized with some ugly shit on it.”

I swallow hard, my hands instantly finding the hem of my shirt.

“I can handle it,” I mutter. This confirms Chewie is in Zeek’s pocket though. He’s the only one I told about it.

“You sure, because I can find out who did it and—”

“No, it’s just some hazing. Nothing I’m not used to.” I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling. To know he’d kill someone just for picking on me is a fucking turn-on. But wrong.

“Come on, Daddy, it’s Christmas morning. Time for the kids to open their gifts.” I change the subject. I’m so excited, I could barely wait until Christmas to let them open a gift.

Leaving our bedroom, I head into the kids’ room and find them both sitting up in their cribs. Layken’s dark hair is a tangled mess, and she has yellow colored poop running up the back of Reindeer pajamas. Samuel just looks up at me, his hand in his dirty blond hair, twirling a curl.

“Merry Christmas, babies!” I coo. Grabbing Layken from the crib, I hold her out as I reach for a new outfit and diapers.

“Layken have another blow out?” Zeek asks with a tired voice. Looking over my shoulder at him, my heart swells.

He’s shirtless still, his skin covered in ink and hard to the touch. One hand holding a coffee cup, his eyes smile at Samuel. But what really gets me, is his Santa printed pajama bottoms. The material so thin you can see the outline of his cock easily. My panties become wet, the soreness that was there moments ago gone and ready for another round.

“Stop staring at me like that, woman,” he rasps. My eyes flash with surprise that I’d been caught, and I focus on mission mustard diaper.

“Hey, little outlaw.” Zeek places his cup down on the nightstand, and he pulls Samuel from the crib.

My ovaries just exploded a little bit. It doesn’t matter how many times Zeek interacts with our children, it does something to me seeing such a tough unapproachable man holding a baby. Holding our baby.

We may not be the perfect couple, but we did something right having these kids.

After the kids are cleaned up and changed, we head into the living room where the Christmas tree is. Half the ornaments are on the floor, thanks to my cat Jinx.

“Jinx!” I scold. He’s lying on the back of the couch, chewing on a ribbon he tore off one of the presents.

Making sure Layken is sitting up on her own, and won’t fall over, I hand her a gift.

She looks at me as if she’s unsure what it is. I laugh and tear a corner just enough to show the vibrant color of the toy hidden within.

This grabs her attention and she begins to rip it apart. Samuel watching his sister does the same thing and tears into his gift.

A small knock on the door has Zeek furrowing his brows. Just as he’s about to get up, my mom hustles inside. She’s wearing a hideous scarf, and her golden hair looks like she just pulled it from rollers. The morning cool air causing me to shiver.

“Merry Christmas everyone!” she show-tunes.

“Hey, Mom, the twins are just now opening their gifts,” I inform her. Mom and Zeek get along, but it makes Zeek uncomfortable with the way she stares at him with longing. I find it funny.

“Oh, let me set this casserole down in the kitchen, and I’ll be right in.”

Leaning my head on Zeek’s shoulder, I watch Samuel chew on a toy gun Zeek got him. I lean forward, grabbing another gift from under the tree, and hand it to Samuel.

“Open that one,” I prompt him. He coos and rips his open with his little pudgy fingers. A toy sheriff’s badge coming into full view. Zeek turns his head and glares at me.

I grab his coffee cup and smile. If he thinks I’m going to let my kids be outlaws without even trying to push them down the line of law enforcement, he has another thing coming.

“Um, Jillian?” The concern in my mom’s voice has both me and Zeek looking at each other.

“Yeah?”

“Are these ass cheek prints on the counter?”

My face turns bright red, and Zeek busts out laughing.