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Double Daddies

Page 3

by Madison Faye


  “Kenzie—”

  “They weren’t like that when I got home.”

  The words blurted out before I could stop them, and suddenly, I felt the whole room go still. Wilder stiffened, his hand leaving my skin and body moving away from mine.

  No, no.

  I didn’t want to not feel him against me, and I didn’t want to not feel his hands on me.

  I turned, taking shaky breaths and feeling my whole body buzz with the raw need for him — for both of them. And slowly, I opened my mouth.

  “That—”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to look right up into Wilder’s deep, dark, brooding, sexy eyes.

  “That only happened after I got home, daddy.”

  The room froze. I swear you could’ve heard a pin drop. And I’m not sure what in the world I ever thought was going to happen when I said it — what insane porno-scenario my dirty mind thought might just happen when I said it.

  But when Wilder opened his mouth, it was nothing I’d expected.

  “Go to bed, Kenzie,” he growled quietly, his face and his eyes so full of heat and this raw desire that it almost sucked me right into him. But he took a step back, his broad chest heaving. He glanced past me, and I looked over my shoulder to see Lincoln standing there with his jaw clenched tight and his eyes wild — the same frozen, hard look on his face as he shook his head and downed the last of his drink before turning away.

  “Go to bed,” Wilder said again, quieter this time.

  And just like that, the raw heat of the room cooled, and the two of them put their walls right back up. Wilder gave me one last, long look, before he and Lincoln stepped from the room, leaving me alone with my pounding heart, my bated breath, and my very wet panties.

  5

  Lincoln

  I slammed the bourbon back, hoping the glass of fire would somehow quench the one inside of me.

  …No fucking luck.

  Next to me, Wilder did the same, growling as he set his glass back on his desk before rubbing his face with his hands. After we’d left Kenzie back downstairs, we’d both wordlessly come directly here, shut the door, and gone right for the bottle.

  I reached for it again as Wilder groaned into his hands, pouring myself another splash before sinking back in my chair.

  “That went too far.”

  Wilder’s hands slid down his face, giving me a look.

  “Oh, you fucking think so?”

  “Goddamnit,” I muttered, grimacing as I looked into my glass. “We’re stronger than this. Or, we fucking should be.”

  “Yeah?” Wilder glared at me. “And how’d that work out for you back there?” he spat sarcastically.

  Not well.

  The thing was, I was stronger than this — we both were. Both of us were men who should have been capable of the kind of discipline and restraint most men didn’t possess. They were skills we’d honed in the Marines, in Kabul, where we’d met. Later, after the service, we’d sharpened those skills when we’d founded Hammer and Spark together — the military contracting outfit we built from the ground up with our bare hands and sheer willpower.

  We’d done well with our company, and trained some damn fine soldiers. But when the offer came to buy us out, we both knew it’d be foolish to ignore it. Soldiering, and training others to fight had been a major chapter in our lives, but we both knew it was time for another one.

  So we’d cashed out, and we’d cashed out big. Wilder and I had walked away with a cool $500 million…each. We were set for life. Fuck, our great-grandchildren were set for life, unless they totally fucked it up. So, we had the money, Wilder had his dream home out here in the country, and I was building mine not far away. Other than that though, we weren’t exactly sure what our “next chapter” was.

  …That is, until Kenzie had showed up at his front door.

  Barely appropriate. Fuck, entirely un-appropriate. But tempting as fuck, like goddamn original sin in daisy dukes and a crop-top. We hadn’t said anything to each other — not directly at least. But I knew my friend well enough to know he was thinking the same very inappropriate things about our little house guest that I was. The same hungry, craving, possessing thoughts for the totally off-limits eighteen year old who’d come barreling into our lives.

  My cock throbbed at the memory of her — eyes wide and fierce as they locked with mine while Wilder had spanked her bratty little ass. Fuck, that look was burned into my damn brain for life. That look was hunger, and want, and my balls tingled at the memory of it. There was jealousy there too — at least a little bit, if I’m being honest. I was jealous that my friend had gotten to put his hands on her like that — to feel her warm, soft, supple skin ripple under his palm as he spanked that tight little butt.

  But it was just a little jealousy, and nothing more. Now, any other man, and it’d be fucking rage I was feeling. If it’d been any other man putting his hands on her like that, or touching her like that, well fuck, we’d be in a very different place in this study. If it’d been anyone else but my best friend in the world who was basically a blood brother to me, I’d be lunging across this desk and wrapping my hands around his fucking neck.

  I sighed, glancing at my friend. This was as close to “talking about it” as we’d ever got. And even now, even after what had just happened downstairs, we were avoiding it. Neither of us was going to be the first one to just come out and say “I fucking want her,” even if it was plain as day on both our faces.

  “We went too far,” Wilder growled, pouring himself another splash of obscenely expensive bourbon. Hey, it was a vice we could afford.

  “With the discipline,” he added quickly, frowning.

  Right, “discipline.” Not “putting our hands on the girl we most certainly should not be putting our hands on.” We were going to phrase it that way, I guess. Fine.

  I just nodded, my jaw tight.

  “She needs to know we’re in charge, and we can’t have her thinking she can just run out whenever she wants, as late as she wants, with whoever she wants.”

  My hands closed to fists at the thought of the who she’d been with that night.

  “You don’t think…”

  Wilder shook his head, his eyes fierce.

  “No. If that little punk had actually gotten anything from her, she’d have told us. If only just to spite us.”

  “Brat,” I growled.

  “No shit. But c’mon, we dealt with all sorts of bullshit Marine arrogance and unruliness over there. We can handle this.”

  “We, huh?”

  Wilder’s jaw twitched as he nodded. “You and me both, man. Don’t put this all on me.”

  I arched a brow. “You’re saying I’m in charge of disciplining your niece—”

  “Not my niece,” he muttered, far too quickly, like maybe he was reminding himself that little but important fact too.

  “And yes,” he added. “You’re in charge around here too. She’s out of control. Maybe she needs two firm hands of discipline. Or four, fuck, whatever, you know what I mean.”

  I nodded.

  “But I think we went too far tonight,” I muttered.

  “Same.”

  “We can’t let it—”

  I almost said “go there with her,” but I stopped myself.

  “We can’t let things escalate like that.”

  My friend nodded curtly. “I’ll say something tomorrow, I guess. You know, apologize for, you know.”

  For spanking her.

  For punishing her naughty, tight little ass like I knew both of us had been dying to do since the second she’d stepped into our world.

  “But for real, man...” Wilder eyed me. “You know I’m gone tomorrow. Just keep her out of trouble while I’m gone.”

  My buddy was off to the city to settle some final accounting stuff from a few of the auxiliary branches of our business. And it looked like I was in charge.

  Of her.

  My job to keep her out of trouble.

>   My job to keep my eye on her.

  My job to discipline her should she try and act out again.

  …I’d be lying if I said my cock didn’t throb rock-fucking-hard at the thought.

  6

  Mackenzie

  I came three times that night. After what happened in the living room, and after feeling Wilder’s firm hands on my body and Lincoln’s heated gaze locked on mine, my entire core was on fire. I barely made it to my room before I slammed the door, locked it, and tore my clothes off. I didn’t even get my panties off before I fell into bed — ass up, face down into my pillows, and both hands buried between my legs.

  I came the first time in about thirty seconds. The second I took my time with, panting into my sheets as I imagined Wilder spanking me again, and this time pulling my panties to the side and running his fingers up and down my slippery, sticky pussy.

  I imagined Lincoln doing more than watching. I pictured him stroking himself the way I’d seen in the shower that day. I imagined him moving closer, his hand wrapped around his big, thick cock, touching me while Wilder did the same.

  The third time I came, my mind went to a place I’d barely ever gone before. That time, I fantasized about them doing more than touching me. I imagined them forcing me to my knees, and unzipping their pants. I imagined their hands in my hair, and cupping my jaw and touching my body while I wrapped my lips around their cocks. I imagined sliding down onto Lincoln, and then Wilder.

  I imagined the two of them taking me together, and when I went there, my whole body exploded in the dark of my bedroom, and my cries drowned in my pillows as the orgasm shattered through me.

  The next day, I padded downstairs in a sort of hazy glow. I was nervous, and if I’m being honest, a little ashamed. I mean, Wilder had spanked me last night. He’d seen how fucking wet my panties had gotten. And he’d said something.

  My face reddened as I walked towards the big kitchen, and when I remembered what I’d said back, I blushed even deeper. But I took a big, shaky breath, let the air out slowly, and then stepped into the kitchen for breakfast.

  They were both there, but aside from two curt, stony nods, neither of them said a word. Lincoln’s eyes lingered a second longer than Wilder’s maybe, but he too turned back to his coffee and paper, clearing his throat as I stood there awkwardly in the doorway.

  This, I hadn’t expected.

  Coldness. They were both sitting there like the night before hadn’t even happened. I bit my lip, screaming on the inside for something. But all I got was silence. I poured myself a coffee and sipped it sulking, chewing on my lip as I tried to figure out where we went from here.

  Suddenly, Wilder cleared his throat and stood.

  “Alright, I’ve gotta run.”

  For the first time, I realized he was dressed up entirely — not just the button up shirt and jeans he usually wore, like Lincoln was. He was in a full suit — dark that only made his dark eyes blaze even hotter as he leveled them at me.

  “Where are you going?”

  “The city. Business stuff to settle. But look, Kenzie, about last—” He frowned, narrowing his eyes at me before he looked away. “Do me a favor and try and stay out of trouble today, alright? Lincoln’s in charge.”

  He nodded at his gorgeous friend, who glanced up at his paper and looked right at me.

  Fuck, it was almost the same heated look as the night before.

  “Be good, Kenzie.”

  I shrugged nonchalantly, an even when I looked away, I knew the move had gotten a scowl on his face.

  …Because even after the night before, or maybe because of the night before, I couldn’t stop trying to get under his skin — both of them.

  “Mackenzie.”

  His rough, growly voice snapped my head around, and when his eyes caught mine, I shivered at the heat there. Wilder opened his mouth to say something, but he slowly closed it, shaking his head instead.

  “I’ll be back tonight.”

  He nodded at Lincoln, grabbed his car keys, and strode from the room.

  Wilder might have left the house, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t still thinking about the night before nonstop. And worse, now I was alone in the house with Lincoln.

  Lincoln who’d watched me get spanked, who’d held my gaze. Lincoln who’d had that hungry, fierce look on his face.

  I thought again about the huge bulge I’d seen in his pants, and felt the heat bloom inside of me. I was the farthest thing from “experienced,” but I knew what it was I’d seen. I knew he’d been as turned on as I’d been, and I wanted more of that. I wanted more of that heat in his eyes, and the hungry, powerful look on his face when he looked at me

  And so I decided to tease.

  I think in my head, it started as almost a self-dare — like I was egging myself on to “do something.” My skin tingled as I shut the door to my bedroom and shrugged out of my clothes. My heart thudded in my chest as I swallowed and opened my dresser drawer, pulling out the skimpy, light blue bikini.

  It was insane, and I knew it. It was playing with fire, and probably messing with something I had no business messing with. Lincoln was so much older than me, and so much more worldly. Not to mention, he was Wilder’s best friend. Part of me felt torn, knowing that it was both of them that set the fire blazing inside of me, and not really knowing how to act on that. There was a part of me that thought teasing and tempting Lincoln would be almost a slight to Wilder, even if I knew how ridiculous that sounded.

  He’d spanked me, not asked me to marry him, for crying out loud. Given, the spanking he’d given me had moved way past “discipline,” and I think we both knew that, but still.

  They both had my body aching in ways it’d never ached before, but it was Lincoln who was at the house that day.

  I shivered as I stepped out of my room, clad in just the tiny bikini that barely covered much of me at all. An intoxicating mix of not knowing what the hell I was doing and knowing exactly what I was doing roared through me as I padded back to the kitchen.

  “So,I guess you’re in charge of me today, huh?”

  Lincoln glanced up from his paper, and his eyes instantly flickered with some unseen heat as they locked onto me. I trembled a little as I felt the power in his gaze as his eyes teased over every inch of me from top to toes, and then right back up again.

  His eyes narrowed and I could see the twitch in his chiseled, clenched jaw.

  “Put some fucking clothes on, Kenzie.”

  I shrugged, looking away and prancing to the fridge for a bottle of water.

  “To go swimming?”

  “You’re not swimming,” he growled, his voice low. I could hear him get up from his chair behind me as I grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge, and I swallowed thickly.

  “Not yet I’m not.”

  I turned around, and gasped instantly as I came face to face with him. Lincoln’s cool, gorgeous blue eyes burned right into mine, his frame towering over me as he stood barely a foot from me. The look on his face was hunger, but he kept his mouth shut tight and thin, and his hands clenched into fists by his sides. I took a shaky breath, my eyes tracing over the open top buttons of his dress shirt and the defined muscles and ink I could see under it. His sleeves were rolled up over his forearms — and God those forearms.

  I shivered again, inhaling the scent of him and feeling the heat of his body with him so close to me like this.

  “No games, Kenzie,” he growled quietly, his eyes firmly holding mine.

  I forced myself to shrug. “What games, Lincoln?”

  “You can’t just walk around like this,” he muttered, his gaze breaking as his eyes dropped down to my bikini again.

  I trembled, feeling that heated gaze tease over my skin and leave electric tingles in its wake.

  “I’m just going swimming,” I said quietly.

  “Of course you are,” he purred back, and I swear he moved even closer to me. “Just going swimming, huh?”

  I nodded, swallowing thick
ly and feeling my pulse roar inside my head.

  “Yup.”

  Lincoln’s jaw clenched tight, and suddenly, one of his hands raised. My breath caught a he reached for me, and for one second, I thought for sure that he was going to just grab me and yank me against him right there in the kitchen. But his hand froze. His eyes blazed pure fire at me as his hand moved right past my hip to press into a fist against the fridge behind me. His whole body tensed, muscles clenching and rippling, like he was barely containing himself.

  “Go swim, Kenzie,” he growled, his voice tight. “Now.”

  He spun, pulling away from me and striding from the room. And I didn’t even realize I’d been holding my breath until it came out in a whoosh the second he was gone.

  Holy shit.

  And just like that, I knew I wasn’t confused anymore. I knew I wasn’t “not sure what I was doing” anymore, either. After that moment, I had a new goal: I was going to break that iron resistance of his.

  I guess I didn’t fully know what I was doing. But all I did know was that cracking Lincoln was a challenge.

  Game on.

  7

  Wilder

  My whole body twitched — restless, on edge, and hungry — through the whole fucking meeting. I was sharp, and short with the lawyers, even my own, as I finished signing over some of the auxiliary account and existing contracts to the new owners of Hammer and Spark.

  You’d have thought I’d be sad to be selling the company Lincoln and I had bled for, but we were both glad to be out. Were both glad to be out of the job of soldiering, and all that came with it. And besides that, the guys taking over were good men — also Marines, and also with the training and discipline to make good leadership moves. Our employees would be in good hands.

  But fuck if I could even think about that, even as my hand moved the pen across dotted lines. Because all I was thinking about was her.

 
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