Page 98 of Cross Check Daddies
His gaze snaps to mine, electric and unblinking.
“My pleasure, baby.”
The days leading up to Saturday are a blur of code, caffeine, and three a.m. edits. My team is pushing hard around the clock, but it still isn’t enough. We’ve come so far in so little time—and now the deadline is closing in fast.
Ace and I hole up in his apartment, screens glowing against dark windows, my back aching, my stomach stretching under the softest cotton hoodie I own. I’ve started cradling the small bump without realizing it. He notices. Always notices.
There’s no time for full meals, just shared takeout cartons and half-drunk bottles of water. Every hour or so, he presses a protein bar into my hand or refills my glass without a word. One night, I nod off sitting upright and wake to find him kneeling beside me, tucking a pillow behind my lower back. His palm settles on my stomach, his voice low. “You’re pushing too hard.”
“I have to.”
He doesn’t argue. Just kisses the inside of my wrist before sliding the laptop back in front of me.
Cam and Tanner stop by when they can—quick kisses, soft murmurs. Tanner drops off fresh fruit and a bag of sour candy I mentioned craving days ago. Cam massages my shoulders for two whole minutes before Ace clears his throat and waves him off like an overprotective bodyguard.
They don’t get in each other’s way. They don’t ask for more than I can give. But they hover. Tanner with his teasing grin, Cam with his stormy quiet, Ace with his steady hands. They watch me inch closer to the edge of burnout and do everything they can to hold the ground beneath me.
One night turns into something else.
I’m in Ace’s living room, bleary-eyed, my hoodie riding up over my belly. I’ve changed into one of his shirts, and I’m not wearing pants because I’m too hot and too tired to care.
Cam is beside me, his thigh against mine, his palm resting on my knee. Tanner’s behind me, rubbing small, slow circles into my lower back.
Ace walks in from the kitchen holding a cold bottle of water. He stops when he sees us.
I shift, languid from exhaustion, but my thighs inch open just a little. Cam leans forward and presses his lips to the curve of my belly. Tanner kisses my shoulder and whispers, “I think our girl needs a little break!”
“I’m in hell,” Ace mutters—but he’s already crossing the room.
He kneels between my legs, palm on my inner thigh. “Tell me to stop,” he says.
I shake my head. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Tanner lifts my shirt, pulling it over my head. “Fuck, baby. Look at you.”
Cam’s hand drifts up between my thighs. “Already wet,” he murmurs.
Ace shifts forward, mouth brushing over the slick heat of me. “Of course she is. She’s ours.”
He licks once, deep and slow, and I arch. My head falls back into Tanner, and he catches me easily, his fingers sliding into my hair. Cam leans in and kisses my mouth while Ace eats me like I’m his last meal.
They keep me there, pinned in heat. Tongues and teeth and fingers. Hands everywhere. Cam presses two fingers inside me as Ace sucks my clit, and I cry out, my body shaking.
“Fuck,” Cam groans. “She’s squeezing already.”
I’m panting, mind spinning, hips rolling into every touch. They praise me softly, like they know I need it—Tanner calling me his best girl, Ace murmuring how perfect I taste, Cam telling me to let go, just let go.
I come hard, thighs clenched, tears in my eyes.
They don’t stop.
Cam lifts me and lays me flat. Tanner pushes my thighs open. Ace kisses my ankle. “One at a time,” he says, voice like gravel.
Tanner slides in first. He’s thick and ruthless. His hands grip my hips as he thrusts in deep. I’m raw and open, still pulsing from the last orgasm. He kisses me like he needs to brand it, his cock dragging against every nerve inside me until I’m begging.
Then it’s Cam. He replaces his brother with a groan, slower but no gentler, thumb teasing my nipple, one hand cradling the swell of my belly. “You’re carrying something magical,” he whispers. “Don’t care whose it is. You’re mine either way.”
Ace fucks me last, standing above the couch, one knee on the cushion. He grips my thighs, spreading me wide, his cock thick and desperate. His control is gone. He buries himself inside me with a groan that borders on broken.
