Page 57 of Double Daddies
“We’re willing to consider your proposal. Sleeping in the nursery is not negotiable.”
The finality in Drake’s voice sent ice through her veins. One night. She just had to survive one night in this chiffon and lace prison, and maybe, just maybe, they would agree to her compromise.
“God, I’m going to have nightmares,” she mumbled as she stared at the mountain of pink frills and lace. Even one night seemed like an insurmountable challenge.
“Very well,” she acceded with an elaborate sigh.
“Very well, who?” Drake’s brows drew together in subtle warning.
In light of the bigger problem at hand, Elle didn’t hesitate as she offered her response with a saccharine smile. Sometimes, pretending was a walk in the park.
“Very well, Daddies.”
Chapter Fifteen
The nursery, DD Estate, Dreamer’s Cove
Elle
“Famous last words,” she grumbled to herself after dinner, her cheeks burning indignantly. She might be pretending, but they definitely weren’t. Drake and Damian had taken turns feeding her between bites of their own meals. Her protests that she could feed herself had fallen on deaf ears, and each attempt to grab the fork had earned her a stern look and a sharp slap on the wrist.
“Come along, princess.” Drake’s voice was warm and inviting, so she got up without protest. A shiver tiptoed over her spine from where his hand rested on the small of her back as they guided her toward the nursery.
“You know, when I suggested the whole tomboy thing, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Elle grumbled, dragging her feet. “I was thinking more along the lines of climbing trees, swimming, and throwing stones in the lake.”
“We said we’d think about it,” Drake said gruffly. “Nothing has been decided as yet, and even when we do, certain aspects of being a Little, tomboy or not, won’t change.”
“For now, it’s bathtime,” Damian announced as they steered her through the nursery and opened a door that had Elle stopping dead in her tracks with her jaw dropping for the umpteenth time since their arrival.
Vanilla cream marble tiles stretched from floor to ceiling, with an oversized claw-foot tub positioned as the centerpiece in front of a wall of windows facing the ocean. Gold-framed mirrors adorned the walls, and plush ottomans dotted the space.
“Holy mother of all bathrooms! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you robbed a sultan’s palace.” Elle spun around, taking it all in. Her amazement quickly turned to suspicion when Drake reached for her dress buttons.
“Hell, the hell no!” she squealed as she realized their intent. “I can bathe myself. I’ve been doing it successfully for twenty-eight years without flooding the bathroom... well, mostly.” Visions of a water and bubbles-covered bathroom floor reminded her of the times she had been too eager to prove to her parents how grownup she was. Well, in her defense, she was only three years old at the time.
“Little babygirls need their Daddies’ help,” Damian stated firmly.
“I told you I’m not ready for—” Her protests cut off as Drake efficiently unbuttoned her dress. She tried to pry his hands away, but he sharply slapped her fingers. She yanked them back and glared at him. “Hey! Be careful. These hands are registered weapons in the state of Texas... for baking purposes.”
“That’s enough.” Damian’s palm unexpectedly connected sharply with her bottom—twice. Two hard slaps that made her realize he could deliver stinging strikes as much as Drake. “You will behave, Elle.”
“Ow! Did you take spanking lessons from a drill sergeant? For that matter, don’t the two of you ever just reprimand without bringing out those ass paddles?”
“If you don’t start behaving, you’ll be walking around with a red bottom permanently,” Drake warned.
Elle yelped indignantly as she suddenly found herself airborne when he lifted her into the steaming, bubble-filled tub. Her eyes locked onto the bright yellow rubber ducks bobbing on the surface.
“Oh, sweet Lord, help me. Youcannotbe serious. What’s next? A rubber boat and a captain’s hat?”
“Actually…” Drake reached behind him.
“Don’t you dare!” Elle pointed a bubble-covered finger at him. “I swear to all that’s holy and chocolate-covered…”
“Look, this one squeaks.” Damian demonstrated with childlike enthusiasm, making the duck emit a high-pitched squeal.
“Oh, my God, I’m being bathed by two oversized toddlers with American Express Black cards,” Elle muttered, sinking lower into the bubbles. Her snarky comeback dissolved into an involuntary moan as Damian’s fingers massaged her scalp.
“Traitor,” she whispered as her body started to throb.
