Page 258 of Double Daddies
“Just give me the options.”
“All right, you’ve been warned.” Mack took the beer Liam held out and took a hefty swallow. “Option one, you go head to head with Clay for her attention. Might not go so well if he’s already charmed her?—”
“He does have a considerable amount of charm,” Liam noted.
“—but it is an option. Or you can talk to them both, find out if they’re in a dynamic, and see if they would be open to exploring a double Dom relationship. Clay strikes me as the possessive type, but people are sometimes willing to venture in a new direction.”
“The other thing to think about is the Little aspect.” Liam swigged his own beer, glancing toward the doors when voices came from the hallway. “Didn’t Violet mention the possibility Avery might have Little tendencies?”
“Good point,” Mack said, nodding as though his husband hit the jackpot.
What the hell was a Little?
“Could you be a Daddy?” Liam asked Tristan.
“I—she’s a child?” Utterly confused, he shook his head.
“In some respects. Some submissives revert back to childlike behavior and mannerisms. They can be sweet and adorable, feisty and complete brats, or somewhere in the middle like our Sierra. Most require a firm hand, guidelines, rules like any child.”
“Some Littles live the lifestyle full time, others when they have the time and freedom. Sierra and Callie—Evander and Elias’s wife—switch between the two, and they both benefit from having two Daddy Dom husbands.”
Brain spinning with information, Tristan sat mutely, trying to process it all. Littles and Daddy Doms… and here he’d thought stepping into the hardcore BDSM arena would test him. The Dominant urges he mostly repressed, aside from occasionally tying up a lover, were hidden because the women in his circles preferred romping with a playboy, not kowtowing to a Dom.
Being a Dom held a great deal of responsibility, and for a long time, he’d avoided anything responsible or accountable. If it wasn’t fun, it was too much hassle.
Was he ready to let go of that ideal and actuallybecomesomething worthwhile?
All for the sake of a woman who may or may not appreciate the effort?
Mack grunted and drank again, shaking his head as though it was unable to hold itself up under the weight of disappointment. “Forget it. You don’t understand the meaning of commitment, Tristan, and it’s no fault of yours. Your father hardly set an example, and your mother… hell, she puts an alley cat to shame.”
“Jesus, Mack,” Liam groaned.
Tristan just shrugged. Why deny what was public knowledge? Reginald Holdsworth IV couldn’t keep his cock behind a zipper; the lesser-known family secret was that he didn’t always take it out for willing women. More money hadbeen spent paying off the unfortunate ladies than Tristan spent on fueling the private jet over the course of two years.
Marjory, unpitiable wife and utterly useless excuse for a mother, wasn’t much higher in standing when it came to ranking the family whores. Her stable of stallions included a rolodex of suitable names she called upon whenever she got the urge, plus whatever random dick she could pick up.
Oh, he’d followed their leads well, hadn’t he? Tristan thought as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Blindly, even. Somewhere along the rocky path of his childhood, he’d adopted their promiscuity, their lack of morals. Sex was nothing but a game to them and, in turn, he’d changed the rules to suit himself and come out as the winner every time.
But in reality, how many times had he lost?
How many women might he have created something good with?
What was to say he hadn’t missed his opportunity at what Mack and Liam had?
Straightening his shoulders, he lifted the bottle in his hand and downed the contents. Cold, mellow beer ran down his throat before he slammed the bottle on the table and stared at his best friend. “Tell me what I need to know to be a Daddy Dom.”
Chapter Six
Clay
She was trying her damnedest to avoid him.
After yesterday’s spanking and the full hour of cuddling disguised as aftercare, Clay’s hopes had risen that she might feel more comfortable in his presence, and in her own. Her Little was tenacious, curious, completely and utterly stifled by the weight of her adult counterpart.
She’d fitted against him perfectly, curled against his chest, and for that whole blessed hour, she’d given herself permission to justbe.
Adult Avery was reserved, shy, closemouthed.
