by Cara Dee
"We can't do that, Master!" Chelsea exclaims.
Gabriella giggles behind her hand, and I wink at her.
"Why not?" Rio frowns and grabs another slice. "When you and I get married, I'd be thrilled if my mates gave us a pillory. I don’t have one yet."
That makes Chelsea flush.
"Hold on." I lick grease off my fingers and retrieve my phone. "I feel like that can be arranged, so I'm taking notes."
"See? Cade's a good friend," Rio says.
Chelsea groans while the princess laughs.
"What're Mark and his two giving the newlyweds?" I wonder.
Chelsea answers. "They've arranged for Mr. Ford and Kayla to have a vacation at Master Cooper's house in La Jolla. It'll be so cool. They've set up activities for them, couple's massages, wine tasting, catered breakfast every morning, dinner on the beach, and a brand-new collection of sex toys for them to have fun with."
So that’s why Evangeline emailed me. She asked if I work with leather too, which I do, and so she wondered if I could make a suede flogger. The soft material makes more sense now that it'll belong to Kayla and not Evangeline.
"They travel a lot," Gabriella mentions. "Should we pitch in and give them a trip?"
That topic leads to a BDSM cruise, and the girls say they would love to go on that as well. In the end, we make loose plans to go on a cruise next year, and we still have no idea what to give Kayla and Nick.
We've finished our food, the girls have crawled up into our laps, the beer is cold, and other than that lingering concern for Dylan, it's a fucking great evening. Speaking of him…
"Dylan suggested separate gifts," I say. "One for Kayla and one for Nicholas."
"That would be easier," Rio notes. "I assume most guests will give them typical couple gifts, but they're still two people."
That gets the ball rolling, and two beers later, we have a list of things to put together into two gift baskets for our friends. And, in my humble opinion, what Rio and I came up with for Nick beats what the girls picked for Kayla.
"Another beer, mate?" Rio asks.
"Sounds good." I nod and lift Gabriella off me. "I'm just gonna take a leak."
I follow Rio inside and steer right toward the guest bath. I've closed the door behind me, about to unzip my pants, when my phone rings, and I get a call from Dylan that cuts the night short.
"What's wrong?" Worry spikes as I hear him sniffling.
"I-I don't feel so good," he croaks.
*
Early the next morning, I pull up outside Nicholas and Kayla's house.
"Princess. We're here." I unbuckle her seat belt and round the car to help her out. She blinks sleepily and rubs her eyes. "Want me to carry you?"
She nods and sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. She's been on the verge of tears since last night but has kept it together so far, probably because I'm going to handle it.
I shoulder her backpack and pick her up, positioning her on my hip.
Nick opens the door before I can knock. Clad in sweats, an expression of concern, and his hair disheveled from sleep, he lets us in before the two cats can escape.
"Thanks again for letting her stay here," I say.
"Of course, of course." He takes a step back as I get Gabriella on her feet. "How are you feeling, little one?"
"I miss my brother," she mumbles. "He's being such a dummy. I told him not to go to Texas."
The corners of my mouth twist up, and Nick smiles.
"Good thing your Daddy's bringing him home then, huh?" He accepts Gabriella's backpack. "I've set up a guest room for you, and I thought I'd take you girls to the zoo later."
"Won't that be fun, baby?" I comb back her wild hair with my fingers. She smiles, more genuinely this time, and nods. "I appreciate this, buddy," I tell Nicholas. Understatement, really. "More than I can say." Gabriella's a grown woman, but thanks to him, she can stay in her preferred mind-set while I go get Dylan. "If there's anything you need, call me right away."
"It's no problem at all," he assures me, giving the princess a wink. "Kayla's been itching to have a sleepover." His gaze returns to me with an easy smirk. "If they're occupying the guest room with ice cream and movies, maybe I can get the downstairs TV for myself and watch a game."
I laugh quietly, completely with him on that one. When football season starts, it'll be good for my two to have their own space, 'cause I won't be so generous with the remote.
"Okay, I'm gonna go so I don’t miss my flight." I cup Gabriella's cheeks and give her a kiss. "Be a good girl for Mr. Ford, yeah?"
"I will, Daddy," she promises. "Text me lots with updates, and don't forget emojis."
I chuckle and kiss those soft lips again. "I'll include a bunch."
Chapter 15
Stressed out and exhausted, I arrive back in Texas and the suburb where Dylan's expecting me. Even his grandmother is. I spoke to her briefly last night. I'm relieved Dylan reached out, considering his recent past of not wanting to be a burden. Then when he was too upset to talk, Rose took over.
All his sponsors have dropped him.
Dylan knew it was coming, but it hit him hard, and no one can blame him. Retiring from his dream career was bad enough. Now he's been forced to accept calls and terminations of contracts, each one having clauses for this particular event, if he sustained injuries or otherwise that threatened his performance.
Of course, he feels like he's been kicked to the curb.
I park the rental outside their house, my chest tightening at the sight of Dylan waiting for me on the porch. He looks small and lost, barely holding it together. The smile he gives me as I head toward him is wobbly and pained.
Last night, he told me I didn’t have to come. That’s not why he called. He only wanted to hear my voice. Thank fuck I didn't listen to him.
"Hi." His eyes shine, which he tries to blink away.
"Hey, little pan." I sit down next to him and hug him tightly, and he shudders. The levees break.
He hugs me back and cries silently. I stroke him along his spine, kiss the side of his head, and I don't tell him it's okay. Things are far from okay, and the boy needs to grieve.
"I don't wanna stay here." He whimpers and covers his face with his hands.
"That's good, 'cause I'm bringing you home." I smooth back his messy hair and press my lips to his temple. "I'll make reservations for a hotel downtown. We'll go out and have a nice meal, and then we're going home first thing in the morning. We can arrange for Devil to come home after we've been in Mexico." That was the original plan, anyway. "How's that?"
He nods and wipes at his cheeks. "I'm so fucking sick of it. I feel worthless."
It's gutting, seeing him this way. "That's bullshit. We're putting you to work as soon as we get home."
I haven't suffered a fraction of the pain he's in, but I know him. He needs to feel useful and accomplish something to get well. I know, 'cause I'm exactly the same.
He's gotten rid of one of the crutches. His knee is in a brace, and he's walking with a customized shoe that lessens the impact of every step, much like a walking cast. We can ease him into a new routine of work and more rehab.
"I'll always need help in the workshop," I murmur. "You can take over local deliveries for me. Save me from hiring companies I don't trust, anyway. Nick needs more DMs, too. Then when you feel better, we can revisit the triathlon idea."
It's not a time to encourage him to let go and say Daddy's got this. He needs to recover as a man first. A young, beautiful man with the attitude of a warrior. It's in there somewhere.
"It seems so farfetched. Me, as a triathlete?" He snorts quietly and wipes away another set of tears. "I don't know."
"Is it a field that would work for you?" I wonder.
He shrugs with one shoulder. "I mean, it's a cool sport. I'm sure it'd be lots of fun—challenging as fuck—but I don't see myself being very good at it."
"Well, I see it." I smile faintly and kiss his knuckles.
Dylan sn
iffles, his head hitting my shoulder. "How?"
"Because I know you." I rub his neck soothingly, resting my cheek at the top of his head. "I've seen you work. I believe in you."
He shivers and lets me comfort him for a while. I catch movement behind the curtains in the living room window, so I'm guessing Rose is giving us a moment. She's a nice lady, one I've spoken to a few times, though I've never met her.
"Cade?" Dylan murmurs nervously. "I don't know the exact parameters of our relationship, but I'm-I'm in love with you."
I swallow hard, and then I'm the one blinking back emotions. Kissing him deeply, I get my shit together and take immense pleasure at having another few bricks set in place to solidify our future. The relief is indescribable.
"I'm in love with you too, Dylan." I kiss his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and his eyelids. And his face breaks out in a timid, hopeful smile. "I've loved you for longer than I've known."
"Really?" He licks his lips, eyes searching mine. "And Gabby? I mean, is it okay I like her, too?" I nod, about to answer, when he goes on. "It's been eating me up alive, because I loved you so much when I left, but-but I was feeling differently about her, too."
I can tell it's been on his mind for a long time. It all comes out in an adorable verbal vomit, but I don't care about the past anymore. I've dwelled too much on it.
"You have absolutely no reason to feel bad, baby boy." I give him a solid squeeze, too relieved for words. "I love you both with all that I am, and those parameters you mentioned say you're stuck with me now. On every level. It's us three."
That's one load off his chest, and he slumps against me with a soft smile.
"I love that you're mine again," I whisper in his hair. "This time, we're not letting go."
"Never."
*
Dylan and I check in to a hotel in the city that evening, and our plan is to go home the following day. That is, until Gabriella sends me a photo with the caption, "I hope this makes you smile, Daddy. I miss you both!"
It's a sketch. I asked her to draw me a tattoo design, and that’s exactly what she's done. Much like her own slutty princesses, she's followed that theme and drawn Peter Pan, arms crossed, wearing low-riding PJ bottoms and a cocky smirk, his signature hat tilted. He hovers above the dark silhouette of a princess crown, and "Let them never grow up" is written in a faint cloud of what I assume is pixie dust.
The princess is fucking amazing.
I grin. How she can capture both the badass and the playful is beyond me.
I think Dylan can see the wheels spinning in my head and where my mind is at, because he limps over to the bed and unzips his bag. Then he pulls out his cast.
"You saved it?" I pocket my phone again.
He nods, pensive. "What she drew on it—I'm getting it inked on my leg. I've already had a stencil drawn up. A friend of mine from the team, his brother is a tattoo artist."
"Wow, really? That will be sexy as hell." I join him and eye the sawed-up cast. "Which leg?"
"I was thinking my bad one at first." He sits down on the bed and sets the cast next to him. "But…well, if I'm going to become this cool triathlete…" I smile at that, proud of him and his will to fight. "My knee can be good enough. I can go far, but it will never be perfect. I'll probably always wear a supportive sleeve, and I'll want the ink to show."
"Makes sense." I sit down next to him, giving his good knee a squeeze. "It'll be better, anyway. You know chicks dig scars."
He laughs and head-butts my shoulder. "As long as you and Gabby dig them, I'm good."
Better than good.
"So here's the thing," he says, clearing his throat. "I wasn’t gonna do this until next week, but if we pay extra, maybe my buddy's brother can reschedule and fit us in tomorrow?"
I scratch my eyebrow, thinking it through. It would be a cool surprise for Gabriella, who's already gotten inked for us, and I'm sure she wouldn’t mind extending her sleepover with Kayla. Additionally, it'll be nice spending some quality time with my boy before we head home. I think we need it.
"You call your friend, I'll change our flights," I say.
*
"Morning, Daddy."
I smile into the pillow, feeling his curious fingers wandering along my spine. "Good morning, baby boy."
I tense up, fully prepared for it to have been a dream. Until I feel his fingers again, wandering up and down my back. It's real. I roll over and bury my face against his neck, where he smells of sleep and boy.
"Morning, little pan," I whisper in my morning voice.
"You just said that." He laughs softly. "I got you coffee, by the way. I had a big hot chocolate."
"Of course you did." I hum in contentment, feeling him up because I can. "Thank you for the coffee. That's sweet of you." A glance at the clock tells me we have an hour before we need to get ready. My morning wood pokes him in his stomach, so I reckon he knows how I wanna spend that time.
I have time for a few sips of my coffee, too.
"I miss your surprises," he confesses and presses his face into his pillow. "I've practically become a virgin again."
That makes me laugh into my mug, and I return it to the nightstand and then roll half on top of him. "It's been a week, you poor, deprived thing." My lips trace the definition of his shoulder blade. "Should Daddy reintroduce you to everything?" I won't say no to sexy-as-hell role-play with my boy.
"Yes, please." There's excitement in his muffled voice. "I know nothing about grown-up fun at all."
Fair enough.
Reaching behind me, I grab my wallet and retrieve a single-use packet of lube for later. When I ask if he wants me to remove my piercing for now, he admits he's been fantasizing about it. So that’s a no. The boy wants to get fucked and have his prostate rubbed by my apadravya.
I don't wanna come off as an impatient teenager with stamina issues, so I ease us into our little morning game. Lying on our sides, close enough for me to feel his body heat under the covers, I ask if he's nervous about today. Not only is it his first tattoo, but it's a big project that will take hours.
"It will be worth it." He tucks his hands underneath his cheek and blinks sleepily. "I thought the chocolate was going to give me a sugar coma, but I could nap."
I smile and push back his hair gently, loving seeing him this way. With tough times ahead as he gets better and better, it's nice knowing there will be moments where he's serene, too.
"I love you, Daddy," he yawns.
"I love you, too—forever and ever." I inch closer and give his cheek a lingering kiss. "You always smell so good." I nuzzle his jawline, drawing out a lazy snicker from him. "It makes me wanna taste."
"You're too funny," he laughs. "You can't taste me."
I reach his neck, his skin soft and warm, and the kiss I drop there is more sensual. "Looks like I can." I suck lightly on his flesh, to which he inhales sharply.
"Wh-what're you doing?" His gaze flicks with heat and nervousness as I push down the covers to expose his upper body.
"I'm admiring my boy. I can do that, can't I?" I trail a hand over his chest, feeling slight tremors coming from him. "Getting a tattoo is a very grown-up thing to do, so I think it's time I teach you a bit about other grown-up stuff. To do that, I need to see you."
"I'm right here." He grins curiously.
"All of you," I reply pointedly. "These are in the way." I yank back the covers from him completely, revealing he's hard, naked, and covering his crotch poorly with both hands. "You're not allowed to hide from me, you know that."
Even his chest tints darker. "But it's…you know. I can't help it. It happens sometimes."
"What happens sometimes?" I stroke his thigh, focused on his hidden cock. Jesus, I want to swallow him whole.
"I get hard down there," he whispers and throws an arm over his face. It lets me see a bit more of his erection, and I close the distance to lie right next to him. "Something's poking me."
I smirk to myself. "It happens sometimes."
&nb
sp; "Is that—" He lifts his head to look, though he can't see much. My cock is trapped against his hip.
"Show me, sweetheart. Remove your hand."
He obeys reluctantly and tilts his head back to look away.
"So beautiful." I wrap my fingers around his perfect cock. He jumps and stammers, wondering why I'm touching him down there. "I told you, it's what big boys can do," I reply. "In secret. We don't tell anyone about it. Does it feel good?" I stroke him teasingly, swiping a finger over the wet slit.
He licks his lips, unsure of what to answer. "I think so. It's wrong, isn't it?"
I shake my head. "Never with me. You can do anything you want with Daddy. In fact…" I lie back and fold an arm under my head. "Come here. I'll show you how to make it feel really good." He follows obediently, only to freeze when I uncover myself. "See? I'm hard, too."
He swallows, transfixed.
"Touch it," I encourage.
That earns me a frightened look, and he's driving me to the brink of fucking insanity with that innocence. My cock throbs against my lower abdomen, my balls already tight and full.
"Do you love your Daddy?" I grip his chin and brush my thumb over his cheek.
He nods timidly. "Forever and ever."
"And you want me to be happy?" Another nod from him, and I give my cock a pointed look. "Then touch me. It will make me happy."
Dylan takes a breath and extends his hand as if he's afraid he'll get bitten. The first ghosting contact causes me to shiver. He touches me tentatively, and I clench my jaw. At this rate, I'll become a two-pump chump.
"You don't have to be so careful." I rub his neck soothingly, and he grasps me a little firmer. "That’s better. Now you move your hand up and down slowly."
He follows commands easier, and soon enough he's stroking me just the way I love it. He seems mesmerized by the fluid that seeps out every time he tightens his hold.
"You know what would make Daddy even happier?" I murmur.
"What?" he rasps. Clearing his throat, he turns so he's on his stomach. The muscles of his tight ass clench, letting me know he's pressing his own cock against the mattress.
"If you kissed it." I don’t let go of his neck, so he can't move away. "Give it a kiss. I think you'll like it." With me guiding him closer, he lets out a trembling breath that I feel along my cock. A second later, it's his lips I feel. "Fuck," I whisper. "That’s a good boy. Keep kissing it."
