Page 270 of Double Daddies
“Yes, Daddies.”
“Good girl.” Though it pained him, Clay covered her with the towel again, then helped her sit up. While it might be considered moving fast—too fast for her, perhaps—he made a mental note to speak to Evander about relocating Avery into his cabin.
He knew several of the housekeeping staff were banging the hell out of the landscaping crew, and some of the kitchen team were on intimate terms with whoever was willing. The staff accommodations weren’t segregated, which meant the chance of people bedhopping all over the damn place was high.
All it took was a drunken mistake, for someone to wander into the wrong room and climb into bed with a naked woman, and shit would hit the fan.
“Why am I like this?” Avery asked quietly.
“Like what, sweetling?”
“Likethis. Acting like a child, enjoying being the focus of two men. Collecting stuffies and riding rocking horses. All of this stuff that isn’t normal.”
Clay shot Tristan a look, which he correctly interpreted as he snagged Avery’s hairbrush from the small bedside table and climbed onto the bed to sit behind her. “Is that why you fight so hard to keep your Little locked down? Because you think she isn’t normal?”
“Don’t see many people prancing around in onesies, carrying a stuffie like it’s their firstborn child,” she pointed out dryly.When Tristan stroked his hand over her tangled hair, she jolted in surprise before her head tilted slowly back. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, you’re human for a start,” he said without hesitation. “Our brains are complicated things. They know what we need, what we want, what we’re designed for as individuals—in your case, finding enjoyment in being a younger version of yourself and all the experiences that comes with it. There’s no shame in being Little, Avery, any more than there is in being a Daddy. It’s who we are; an intricate system dependent on the needs of one person being met by another with the right skillset.”
“So you were born to be a Daddy Dom?” she asked skeptically.
Clay lifted a finger. “Cowboy Daddy Dom. If you’re a bad girl, I’ll chase you, rope and hogtie you, then fuck you senseless and brand your ass just to make sure you know damn well you’re mine.” Smirking at her shocked expression, he saw Tristan’s face mirrored hers and grinned. “Hell, if Tristan asks me real nice, I might even let him fire the irons.”
“That’s very permanent,” Avery stammered weakly.
“I’m ready for permanent. As for enjoying the attention of two men… I think after everything your ex put you through, exploiting the strong hands and big… hearts of two virile Doms dedicated to your happiness might be quite enlightening.”
She giggled. “You were going to say big cocks.”
“Was I?” He hummed thoughtfully. “I can speak for myself, of course, but Tristan…”
“No complaints here.”
“There you go. Strong hands, big cock, multiplied by two.” Clay chuckled when she blushed. “Enlightening.”
“I don’t need two cocks,” she protested.
He wiggled his eyebrows. “That doesn’t stop you being curious about having two.”
Snorting, Tristan scowled at the mess of hair. “How am I supposed to tackle this? Chainsaw? Scissors? Is there a magical secret?”
Amused, Clay held out his hand before Avery could flee from the hair-cutting maniac behind her. “Watch and learn, rookie. How long until the food gets here?”
“Twenty minutes, maybe half an hour.”
“Plenty of time.” Taking the brush, Clay reached out and selected a long, thick clump of damp hair, patiently working it between his fingers until the bristles of the brush could pass through it without yanking her head. “Start at the scalp, be gentle.”
They worked together, using their hands to loosen the tangles and passing the brush back and forth. It was interesting to read both Avery and Tristan as a companionable silence settled over the room—well, aside from the throb of music and laughter from the cabin next door.
Tristan took to the task well. There was a fierce look of concentration in his eyes, and he kept the tip of his tongue between his teeth as his eyebrows rose and fell with the depth of complexity he found with each messy lock. He didn’t complain once—Clay saw no evidence of boredom or disdain as the minutes passed.
Maybe there was hope for him yet.
Avery, on the other hand… obviously uncomfortable with two men touching her, she spent the first five minutes squirming and wiggling like a toddler waiting to see the doctor. The towel shifted and slipped several times, giving Clay quick peeks at her glorious breasts and, in turn, a hefty erection.
Once she became accustomed to their undivided attention, however, her restlessness faded and she quickly turned to putty as their fingertips stroked her scalp, smoothing through her hair. Tension dissipated from her muscles, her face slackened.Eyes fluttering half-closed, he was pretty sure she was almost asleep sitting up.
“Hello! Room service!”
