Their Boy (The Game 2)

I ignored the mirth in his eyes.

“Whatever you’re thinking now is a figment of your imagination, little one.”

Pffft. Yeah, right. I pushed off his button-down and lifted his undershirt.

He took over and pulled the shirt over his head.

Fuck yes. I closed the distance and slid my hands up his chest, my mouth following. I had to taste him, breathe him in, be close to him. Take him…

“The others will be here any minute,” he murmured. I didn’t care. I kissed his neck, as far as I could reach, and I had him. He was caving to me. Daddy shivered and slipped a hand between us to palm my cock, and he rubbed it lovingly through my pants. “My irresistible little darling.”

“I want you, Daddy. Please?”

“Soon.” He dipped down and kissed me deeply. “Give Daddy a taste of your sweet cock, and then we’ll join the others. Colt will have our swimwear.”

I groaned, half in complaint and half in lust. Then I unbuttoned my shorts as Daddy fell to his knees, and he pushed them down along with my briefs.

“There’s my boy.” He wrapped his fingers around me and sucked me into his mouth, and I dropped my head back. He loved to suck on soft cock as much as I did, only we never stayed soft very long. But there was something about it. The way my Daddies felt in my mouth, smooth and thick and soft, before they hardened between my lips. It was the best.

Daddy hummed around my length when I heard Colt outside. The door opened downstairs, and he wasn’t alone. Madigan and Abel had arrived too.

“Colt,” I moaned. “Um, we need some help. Can—fuck…” I thrust into Lucas’s mouth, and he grabbed two fistfuls of my bottom to hold me in place. “Oh God. Can you bring our stuff, please?”

I heard Colt and Madigan laugh.

“I’ll go see what my sluts are up to. Y’all get comfortable,” Colt said.

“No!” I whisper-shouted as Daddy stopped sucking on me. I’d just gotten hard, damn it! “Please, Daddy?”

He chuckled huskily and tucked me into my briefs again, though he didn’t stop touching me, nor did he get up off the floor.

Colt reached the landing, and before I could look at him over my shoulder, his arms snaked around my middle, and he kissed my neck. “Why am I not surprised to find you like this?” I felt his smile against my skin, and then I smiled too. Colt cupped Lucas’s cheek, and Lucas turned his head to kiss the inside of Colt’s hand. It was a beautiful sight. “If I weren’t in a desperate need to cool off in the pool, I’d suggest we stay right here.”

“The pool isn’t going anywhere.” I pouted back at Colt.

He gave me a quick kiss. “You’ll get yours, greedy boy.”* * *“River and Reese seem like…interesting people.” Abel smiled uncomfortably.

“If by interesting you mean terrifying, then I agree.” Let’s just say I was staying in this end of the pool now.

Shortly after we had changed and gotten comfortable at the pool, Reese had stepped out onto the patio to greet us. He’d been in the office working on some things, he’d said. He’d only worn a pair of threadbare jeans and bed head. In the sun, his hair was copper. His eyes were sea green, lighter than Colt’s, and his torso was covered with scars and ink. He was Lucas’s height, so I guessed around six-one, six-two, but the look in his eyes might as well make him ten feet tall. Either way, I didn’t want to meet him in a dark alley. He’d been polite and smirky when Lucas introduced us, though there was something about him that screamed keep your distance.

The kicker? There were two of them. River showed up an hour later, a carbon copy of his brother, with the exception of their tattoos. Reese had more, one of them inked across the side of his neck. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

Lucas and Reese appeared to have an interesting relationship. It was brotherly, with Lucas digesting the ideas Reese threw at him, and then they went from there. Because that was pretty much what they’d been doing on the other side of the pool. Lucas sat on the edge now, and Reese was in the water. Naked. And they discussed future events and gatherings.

Colt, River, and Madigan were also there, but they were sitting on the steps, having a beer. Not naked.

No, I was much safer in the deep end with Abel.

“Are you feeling better now, by the way?” I asked, refocusing on my friend.

He lifted a shoulder. “A little, I guess. Humiliation is tough for me, but I know why he’s doing it. Hell, I’ve asked him to.”

I hesitated. I knew Abel had bipolar, and though we’d spoken about it openly many, many times, I’d learned there was a time and a place. Sometimes, the topic was too sensitive, and it was because Madigan and Abel worked on his insecurities together, leaving the thoroughly pushed buttons extra raw.