by Cara Dee
Thank fuck we were having a small wedding. Much easier to get hitched in private and then do a tour and visit our families and take them out for dinner. I couldn’t imagine trying to get everyone to one place at the same time.
“You want me to bring you back more of that jerky?” I asked conversationally.
“You damn well better!” Pop barked. “I gotta go take Nonna to the salon.”
He hung up without another word, and I shook my head to myself and pocketed my phone. It’d taken a minute for August to get my father. Camden had understood easier, maybe because he came from a similar background. Irritation and being bitchy was just how Pop showed his love. If he got demanding, it meant he worried.
Deciding a break was in order, I walked out to the patio—into the blistering summer heat—and found August naked in one of the loungers around the pool. Newspaper in his hands. Coffee on the side table. And a sleepy boy nursing from his cock.
“There you are, darlin’. How’s the recording comin’ along?”
“Almost done. Just a few more hours.” I sat down on the foot of the lounger and patted Camden’s cute butt. “Did you have a good nap, ragazzo?”
Camden nodded drowsily and kept suckling on August’s cock.
I was internally glad he nursed more from August, because it frustrated me to no end when he asked to nurse from me. Few things got me as hard as when Camden was at his most innocent. Especially since he’d discovered that he liked being taken advantage of and used when he felt vulnerable.
They must’ve been at it for a while. August was looking a little frustrated now too. He refolded the newspaper and set it aside, then leaned back and threaded his fingers into Camden’s hair.
“Daddy’s almost there, baby.” He eased his cock a couple inches deeper and sighed contentedly. “Fuck. That’s it. That’s it.”
It was almost as frustrating to watch, because it turned me the fuck on.
“Oh no, you don’t.” August pushed down Camden’s head when he’d been trying to move away. “You get every drop of Daddy’s milk.”
I watched him come. I watched his chest heave, how his hand held Camden in place, and how he tensed up as he emptied his balls down the boy’s throat. Definitely not in the mood for coffee anymore, I set my mug on the table and squeezed my cock through my sweats.
“Mmm, that was good…” Camden croaked and licked his lips. “Can I nap some more?”
“A little while longer,” August allowed.
I rose from my seat and told Camden to rest his head higher up—on August’s chest. Then I reached into my pants and stroked myself as I kept my eyes on them. The two loves of my life.
“Come here.” August summoned me closer, and I walked over so I stood next to him, my cock right over his chest and Camden’s head. “You want me to take over?”
I shook my head, tightening my grip. I knew exactly where to get off.
“Let me at least get you there.” August leaned forward a bit, and I groaned as he sucked me into his mouth.
“Fuck, I love watching you,” I grunted.
He hummed.
“Quiet,” Camden mumbled softly. “M’sleepy.”
It didn’t take long for August to get me close. Then he leaned back again and drew a lazy hand over his chest hair before he tucked it behind his head.
“My God, you’re sexy.” August’s lustful gaze pushed me over the edge. “That’s it, sweetheart. Come all over us.”
I surrendered with a low groan. Come splashed across August’s chest and Camden’s adorable face.
“But, ohhhh,” the boy whined. “Why are you coming on me, Daddy?”
“Because it makes Daddy feel so good,” I said, panting. “Fuck.”
He huffed in annoyance. Though, it didn’t stop him from poking out the tip of his tongue and tasting some of my release that’d landed at the corner of his mouth.
August leaned forward once more, and he sucked me clean and drew endless shivers from me. He peered up at me, sucking me hard, looking at me with so much affection in his eyes.
“I love you,” he murmured. “And this thick, perfect cock.”
I withdrew from his mouth so I could bend down and kiss him hard.
A few years later
“Good job, Hannah.” I grinned, possibly the proudest uncle in the state right now. “Didn’t I tell you that you could do it?”
She beamed back at me and bounced excitedly in her seat.
It felt fucking amazing that she trusted me fully now. She gave the best hugs too. Most of all, her trust in me made it easier to focus on her progress. And today, she’d officially learned how to play “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” on the pink guitar I’d given her when she’d turned six earlier this year.
When Nicky and Gideon adopted her, she was a nonverbal toddler. She’d been diagnosed since then, and I’d done my best to be part of her journey to find ways to communicate and express herself.
I wasn’t surprised when my brother and Gideon came into the rehearsal room. Standing outside and looking through the viewing window clearly wasn’t enough.
Hannah turned to them, and her green eyes flashed with excitement. “Daddies! I’m playing.”
“That’s amazing, baby girl,” Nicky responded with a big smile. “Daddy and I are just gonna sit here and watch, okay? You concentrate on what Uncle Anthony’s teaching you.”
She nodded firmly and refocused on me, and I continued her lesson.
To make it easier for her to mirror my movements, I used one of the school’s guitars for left-handed players. Technical terminology didn’t stick. She wanted to mimic me and play, and she was too strong-willed for anything other than baby steps. Learning sheet music would have to come later.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall told me we had fifteen minutes left. At six fifteen, her lesson would be over for this week, and I wouldn’t see her in person until we came back to New York next month. We’d make do with our online class, though. She was a trooper with an iPad.
“I did it again!” she cheered. “I’m gonna play it for Sammy every night before bed.”
I smiled and reached forward, adjusting her grip on the strings. “One more time from the beginning, yeah? Then I’m gonna give you homework.”
“Cuz I’m a big girl now.” She nodded. “Big girls get homework.”
“That’s right. You wanna count us in?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it like you. A-One…a-two…a-one, two, three, fow!”
I stifled my mirth and tinkered slowly alongside her, and she was definitely getting there. Repetition was her best friend—which might frustrate her fathers soon. Because I believed her. She was gonna play this tune for her little brother until their ears were bleeding.
Nicky and Gideon applauded dutifully when we’d finished, and the little monkey stood up to take a bow. Talk about being the family’s charmer. Sammy had his ways too, and he’d already made it clear that August was his favorite uncle. Otherwise, he was mostly Pop’s li’l champ.
Right before Camden showed up outside the viewer’s window, I went through next week’s plan with Hannah and Nicky. We were gonna start practicing a new song.
“Cam’s here!” Hannah announced. “Cam! C’mea!” She waved him in.
I smiled as he poked his head in.
“Is that Princess Hannah I see? Because she looks like a rock star right now.”
“I’m a princess rock star,” she boasted, running over to him.
I chuckled at the two, then turned to Nicky.
He turned to me too. “You headin’ out right away?”
I nodded. “Our flight’s at nine.”
“Tell the hubby I said hey. And that he still owes me a recipe.”
“It’ll be the first thing I’ll tell him,” I joked. In reality, their good-natured rivalry about Mediterranean cooking was only on my mind when I got to sample the food. But considering Camden and I hadn’t seen August in almost two weeks now, my priorities looked a lot dif
ferent.
It happened a couple times a year when August traveled to his restaurants to create new menus and show his face. Life was busy, and we couldn’t always tag along. Like this time. But we were flying out to meet up with him as he wrapped up this tour, and we were gonna spend the weekend in LA before road-trippin’ to Nashville for some downtime.
After we’d locked up, said our goodbyes, and I’d gotten my squishy hug from Hannah, Camden and I grabbed our bags and got into a cab.
“JFK,” I said.
Camden snuck his hand into mine, and I brought it to my lips and kissed his fingers.
“Excited to see Daddy?”
He nodded. “But I’m gonna miss all the takeout.”
I laughed. It was true—when Camden and I were left to our own devices, we ordered a lot of takeout.
We were pros at hiding the evidence, thankfully. Although, August had his suspicions sometimes.
Camden slid onto the middle seat and lifted my arm to snuggle his way up my chest, and I hugged him to me.
“Sweet boy. I love you.”
“Love you ten thousand times that,” he yawned. “Can you scratch my head, please?”
“Of course.”
I had a feeling he’d be asleep before we’d left the runway. I still hadn’t gotten used to flying in business class, so I was the person who took full advantage and wanted my blanket, my sleep mask, my shitty earbuds, and free beer.
When they came around with free snacks…?
Madonn’. I wouldn’t miss that for anything. Much like everything else these days.
Well, there was one thing. I felt no need to enter another of August’s giveaways, because I’d already won the biggest prize. The best love in the galaxy, to use Camden’s words, and a life free of oatmeal.
More from Cara
Cara freely admits she’s addicted to revisiting the men and women who yammer in her head, and several of her characters cross over in other titles. If you enjoyed this book, you might like the following.
We Have Till Dawn
MM | Autism in Romance | Role Play | Standalone
Nicky Fender retired from sex work two years ago and never looked back. Then an offer he can’t refuse comes his way, and he agrees to one last exclusive arrangement. But when he meets Gideon, this older, smoking hot, uncertain, filthy, autistic businessman on a quest to explore his sexuality, Nicky wishes sunrise would never come.
Their Boy
MMM | The Game Series, #2 | BDSM | Daddykink | Standalone
Left all alone in the world after the loss of his parents, Kit Damien feared his life was over before it had truly begun. Then he met Colt and Lucas, two Daddy Doms who changed everything. The three embark on a journey to learn about true love, growing up, the importance of sprinkles, and the rules of The Game that can make them all winners.
Power Play
MM | Daddykink Romance | Age Difference | Mental Health | Standalone
Love sucked. Correction: it sucked when you were in love with your parents’ closest friend and he didn’t feel the same. Madigan had always been there for me, from when I was a kid to when I got drafted by the NHL. Then I made the mistake of confessing my feelings for him… I was such a loser. My bipolar disorder was already difficult to manage as it was; add high anxiety and, most recently, as the cherry on a shit sundae, a suspension from the team. Why couldn’t he see that I was perfect for him? We even had kink in common! Not that he knew that…
Just Sign Here
MM | Silver Fox Boss | Daddykink | Male Nanny | Standalone
The terms of his employment are a little…unconventional. But if Peyton signs on the dotted line, I believe I can give him all the things he never knew he needed. He’ll help me become a better daddy to my little girl, and I’ll teach him how to be the best Little Boy to his Daddy.
* * *
Check out Cara’s entire collection at www.caradeewrites.com, and don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter so you don’t miss any new releases, updates on book signings, free outtakes, giveaways, and much more.
About Cara
I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.
There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly.
Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.
I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.
Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.
I'm a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.
~Cara.
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