Their Boy (The Game 2)

Madigan let out a laugh. “Oh boy.”

“Duuude.” Abel held up his fist, and I bumped it. Adrenaline coursed through me.

Colt pulled away from the curb. “You’ll get your beatin’, Kit. No need to beg.”

“I didn’t,” I argued.

“I think you did,” Daddy replied. “I heard it. You…?” He looked to Madigan.

“Loud and clear,” Madigan said. “Same language Abel speaks. You become fluent after about a minute.”

Abel and I went blah-blah-blah with our hands and rolled our eyes.Fifteen“I like cuddling with you like this, Daddy,” I whispered.

Lucas smiled affectionately and caressed my cheek. “I like cuddling with you like this, too.”

Hiding under a soft blanket on our sunbed, we’d found the perfect spot for a post-breakfast nap. And no one could see us. We were invisible to the whole world. If we couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see us. That was the rule.

Abel was taking a nap in their guest room. Colt and Madigan were bonding over ridiculously strong coffee on the other side of the pool. And I was just staring at my Lucas.

“I love your eyes.” I drew a finger over his cheek, captivated and enveloped in his warmth. “And the gray in your scruff.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with his chuckle.

He wouldn’t understand. The feelings that were flowing through me were overwhelming. Never had I experienced something like this. I wanted to keep it forever.

I didn’t care what anybody said. It was fast, but I felt it.

“I want to serve you better,” I admitted.

Curiosity filled his gaze. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged lightly. “Do more stuff for you. Like submissives. Not just be a Little who depends on you. I want you to be able to count on me too.”

He understood. I could tell. His eyes were expressive, and he never concealed anything. Perhaps that was one of the reasons it was so easy to trust him, because I did. With everything I was.

I trusted Colt as well. I couldn’t not. I was drawn to them like a moth to two different kinds of flames. With Colt, there was a thrill. A challenge and that energy. I craved it, and I wanted to explore it further. It felt like…like, like we could go far together? I wanted him to push me. I wanted him to toy with me. He’d shown me he would be there through it all.

“Our kinks will always evolve,” Lucas murmured. “As long as you don’t want to serve us for the wrong reasons, we’re happy to try new things.”

“What would be the wrong reasons?”

“Hmm. For instance, if you felt the need. If you felt like a burden. Something you—” he poked my nose “—have a history of.”

I grinned sheepishly and rubbed my nose. “It’s not that. I just want to make you as happy as you make me.”

“Sweet boy.” He rested our foreheads together and adjusted the blanket over us. “You make us incredibly happy. Out-of-this-world happy.” He kissed my smile. “That said, structure suits you. You thrive when you feel safe, and you feel safe when there are rules.” He was definitely correct. “We can add more chores for you if you’d like.”

I nodded and snuggled lower so I could tuck my head under his chin. “Yes, please.”

“Then consider it done.” He gave me a squeeze. “I do love watching you grow, Kit. We’re very proud of you for the changes you’re already making.”

The warm fuzzies were back, and I could only hug him super-duper hard because I’d lost my words.* * *I’m just pointing out that I haven’t worked a shift in over a week. Is this how it’s gonna be now?

I pocketed my phone before Abel could see and made sure there wasn’t a trace of anxiousness on my face. We were getting ready in my bathroom upstairs, and tonight was about having fun.

Tomorrow, I would do better. I would find a balance so I could keep everyone in my life. It was my fault. I was letting Vincent down because I was spending so much time with Colt and Lucas. Guilt seeped into my veins, heavy as lead, and I had to force a smile when Abel asked if he could wear those jeans.

“Of course. You always look good,” I said.

I was wearing jeans too, and the material was going to take some getting used to. I was glad Lucas had helped me pick out a very soft pair because I would’ve fucked it up.

Abel put some product in his hair, giving it a messy bed head look, but all I saw was Vincent. He did that all the time. He even carried a small jar of some hair product in his leather jacket.

He was so New Jersey.

Abel eyed me in the mirror, and I composed my face. He quirked a brow. “You don’t look like you’re excited about an evening at a steakhouse.”