Page 66 of Double Daddies
When a man wanted something badly enough, it was easy to ignore warning signs. Drake wasn’t one of them. He’d have to keep an eye on her. He had been the one to choose her. It wouldbe on him if she broke Damian’s heart… and that wasn’t going to happen.
His gaze drifted to Damian, catching that now-familiar look of pure adoration directed at their bratty baker. The same expression he knew graced his own features whenever she was near. That morning at the Cuban Café had sealed their fate. Both of them had fallen hard and fast.
Drake’s protective instincts surged. He had always shielded Damian since their college days through their rise in the business world. If his suspicions were correct, he would rather endure his own heartbreak than watch Damian shatter. A broken heart would heal. Destroying his best friend’s trust in love? Unforgivable.
That he didn’t acknowledge what it would do to him was significant. He would always consider Damian’s feelings before his own—he always had. It was the kind of man he was. A natural protector and nurturer.
She was the one. He knew it, had known it from the first time he’d seen her. The problem was, she was recoiling against the attraction he knew was awakening inside her. It was there in every look she cast at them. Coaching her to adapt to being their Little and nurturing an emotion she might not recognize in the battle of wills raging inside her could very well end in disaster… for him and Damian.
“I’m already dressed for the beach, Daddy.” Elle tugged at her red bikini string, her lower lip jutting out. “See?”
“No, babygirl. That bathing suit is for when we go to the Cayman Islands.” His lips curved upward, but his tone brooked no argument. “Here, you’ll dress how we wish you to.”
“But—”
Drake’s stern look silenced her protest mid-word. He kept his expression fixed until she lowered her eyes in submission. His smile broadened as she hung her head in defeat.
“Okay, Daddy.” Her shoulders slumped as she turned away. Each step was deliberately slow, testing whether he’d relent.
No such luck, love.Drake watched her retreating form. His resolve strengthened.Today, we’re finally going to possess every inch of you. A dream we’ve had for the past two years.
But as part of that dream, she needed to embrace her role as their Little, starting with proper attire for thefeastthey had planned on the beach.
“What do you think, Drake? Is three months enough?” Damian asked with concern in his eyes.
“We knew from the start that we’d have to be patient with her,” Drake murmured. “She has to adapt to a completely new lifestyle, but as long as she’s fighting herself as much as she’s fighting us, it’s not going to happen.” He smiled. “Which means we’ll have to tighten the bonds. Keep her constantly in Little mode, either by spoiling, punishing, or fucking the living hell out of her.”
Damian smiled, but he couldn’t keep the gnawing uncertainty from his voice. “And if she still doesn’t conform?”
“Then we let her go.” The words cost Drake more than he cared to admit, but he meant them. “But not before we are certain she’s given it a real chance. She needs time to trust—in us and herself as well as our way of life, understanding the joy and release it’ll offer her.”
Drake heard the halting, reluctant footsteps first. His lips twitched as he fought back a smile. Damian was carrying an equally amused expression.
Elle appeared in the doorway with her face flaming scarlet. The thick white diaper with petite pink flowers was the only thing covering her, making her legs look impossibly long. Her arms were crossed over her bare breasts, but based on the indignation on her face, modesty had nothing to do with it.
“I am not walking to the beach like this.” Her chin jutted up in defiance, though the effect was somewhat diminished by a fierce blush coating her cheeks.
“Oh, but you are, princess,” Damian chuckled, moving to scoop her up. “Unless you prefer we carry you?”
“Don’t you dare!” She backed away, only to bump into Drake, who had circled behind her.
“Then walk you shall,” Drake declared as his hands settled on her shoulders. “Come on, babygirl. Stop pouting and show us how pretty you can toddle in your new beach attire.”
Elle’s groan echoed through the air. “This is ridiculous. I look?—”
“Absolutely perfect,” both men said in unison.
“The birds will see me!”
“Lucky birds,” Damian winked, earning himself a glare that only made them laugh harder.
With Amanda in tow, they shepherded her toward the beach path. They thoroughly enjoyed watching Elle taking exaggerated baby steps with the diaper’s bulk forcing her legs slightly apart. Every few steps, she stopped to tug at the thick material while muttering under her breath.
“Having some trouble there, babygirl?” Drake teased, earning himself a look that would have withered a lesser man.
“I hate you both,” she declared, though her lips twitched traitorously.
“Now, now,” Damian tsked. “Is that any way for our baby tomboy to talk?”
