Page 3 of Awakening His Daddy (The Lactin Brotherhood #17)

Chapter 3

Joe

What the heck is Izzy doing here?

I know when he goes out, it’s usually with Leo and to quieter gay bars. He says he wants a Daddy and won’t find one at the dancing bars.

I’m still not sure what he means by Daddy.

Leo tried to explain it to me once, and I told him to stop. Not because I didn’t want to hear about it, but what he said had my dick getting hard, and neither of us needed that to happen.

I’m a bossy control freak, and the idea of someone doing everything I say because they want me to take care of them sounds amazing. To give me their total submission and trust is… Yeah, that’s right up my alley.

I asked one of my female co-workers about the idea of submission as a relative term, not anything specific, and she went off on a tangent about how this wasn’t the dark ages, women can think for themselves, they make their own money, and they don’t need men or their penises.

I backed away slowly with my hands covering my junk.

Since then, I’ve been on a few dates and heard about being a Daddy, but most women won’t even let me hold the door anymore, so I knew not to ask them if I could take care of them.

Izzy would let me take care of him.

He’d do whatever I told him to do. He’d trust me to make the right choices for him.

He’s also a guy, my son’s best friend, and he’s coming this way.

I swivel my chair toward him, and he makes his way right between my spread thighs, getting entirely too close to my body in the process. His hands slide up my thighs. If he were any other guy, I would punch him in the jaw for being so forward, but I can’t punch sweet Izzy.

“Hi, Daddy,” he whispers in my ear and shivers run through my body, and my dick twitches. Not a full-on boner, but we’re interested. Which is weird for me.

I need to get laid. It’s clearly been too long if someone rubbing my thighs gets me going.

This close, I can see some gold flecks in Izzy’s dark brown eyes, and there’s a light dusting of freckles across his tan nose and cheeks. It seems like his mouth is a bit too big for his face, but it makes him look more kissable.

Kissable…really?

I clear my throat and back Izzy onto the stool next to me.

He pouts but moves so his knees are still touching mine.

“I’m not your Daddy, Izzy.”

“But you could be.”

I know he has a crush on me, but he normally does a good job of keeping it under control. It seems someone is feeling bold tonight.

“What are you doing here?”

He throws back my whiskey in one gulp and sighs dramatically. “I’m looking for a unicorn.”

I’m about to ask what he means when he continues.

“There’s supposed to be an event here, but it looks like I missed it.” His face falls, and he turns his gaze back to me, but my brain is too busy to notice.

An event here.

He couldn’t possibly mean the brotherhood, could he?

How would he know about that, and if that was something he was interested in, wouldn’t he tell Leo? They tell each other everything, and there is no way Leo would keep this a secret from me. He knows about my issues, and if he thought that?—

“Leo didn’t set you up for this, did he?”

“No, he’s out with a lumberjack.” He shows me a picture, and thankfully, they’re still clothed.

Typical. My son’s pretty and small, and he loves someone who can manhandle him in bed.

Another thing he gets from his mother. Not just her petite stature, but their taste in men.

God, I hate that I know that. Way too much oversharing in my family.

“Besides, he’s not interested in the group.”

“How do you know? Did you ask him?”

“What? No! It’s…” He put his head down and whispers, “It’s private.”

“Were there supposed to be some Daddies here?” Maybe that’s what he means.

“Maybe, I don’t know, but what are you doing here?” His words turn accusatory to me.

I almost panic. He can’t know I’m a part of the group, if that’s even why he’s here, but then I remember the real reason I’m here.

“Leo called me to pick him up, but then he found the lumberjack and left before I got here. So, I decided to stay and have a drink.”

“You need another one it seems.” He raises two fingers to the bartender, who comes back with two whiskeys.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“I just got here! Yours was my second one.”

I bet he was at work all day, and he’s probably tired as hell.

“Fine, but only one more. I don’t want you to get into an accident or try to drive home.”

“I didn’t drive here.”

“Then we’ll see how you feel after one more.” If he wanted to come out and let off some steam or find a hook-up, I shouldn’t interfere.

“Yes, sir.” He salutes me.

“I thought I was Daddy?” I did not just say that.

“I wish you were.” He leans over and rests his head on my bicep. “I would be such a good boy, and I would suck you so good.” He moves back, clearly oblivious to the effect his words have on me. “But I know you’re not into me. I’m just an annoying kid, and I have a dick.”

“Hey.” I turn him to look at me with a finger under his chin. “You’re not annoying. You’re smart, sweet, and hardworking.” His eyes hold so much hope as I look at him. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”

“But not you?”

“Well, as you mentioned, you have a dick.” I try to lighten the moment and end up looking down at his tight jeans, which aren’t hiding anything.

“It’s just a dick. It doesn’t bite.” He adjusts himself, and I find the movement enticing. It is just a dick. I have one too.

Nope. No dicks.

“But it spits.” I wrinkle my nose and hope he giggles to relieve whatever this tension is.

“Good one.” He takes a sip of his drink. “How was work today?”

“Fine.” I give him the generic response, but it doesn’t seem right to stop at that. “Actually, there was a pair of officers getting lunch at a restaurant when someone cut in front of them in line.”

“Is that a crime?” he asks with wide eyes.

“No, but attempting to rob the place is.”

“He tried to rob the restaurant? With the cops there? He doesn’t seem too smart.”

“Nope, the officers arrested him before the cashier even noticed what was happening.” I laugh lightly. “How was yours?”

“It was good. It’s fun to start a new project. I love the planning part almost as much as the doing part, but some people are just mean.”

“Who’s mean to you? I’ll kick their butts.”

He giggles and takes another sip.

“Not all of them, but sometimes people are just jerks. Like they don’t want me to tear up their yard, but I can’t fix it if I don’t build it. It’s not like I have a magic wand. I’m not your fairy godmother.” He squints. “Godfather, god-landscape architect? Which would be right?” He cocks his head to think about it.

I’m about to answer that I have no clue, but he gasps.

“Oh, could I have mice helpers or maybe a beaver because they’re kind of landscapers.”

“Um, I don’t think any of those things exist.”

“But where do the animals come from, and who pays them, and why are they scared of dogs?”

I look down at his glass and notice that it’s empty. He’s had half of my first and now all of his third. He’s pretty small, but that shouldn’t be enough to make him this tipsy this fast.

“You didn’t eat today,” I grumble. When he shrinks into himself, I know the answer is yes.

“I had breakfast, and I was going to have lunch, but I forgot it at home, and then I had to come here and I was late.”

“Food is important. Remember what we talked about? You work very hard and you need to eat to keep your body fueled.”

He slumps on my shoulder again. “You would be the perfect Daddy. All taking care of me and shit.”

“Language.”

“See? Perfect.”

I roll my eyes. I shouldn’t be correcting a grown man’s language, but I hate swearing because I get enough of it from work. Not the officers, but the perps. So much swearing.

“I think I’ll have a drink…” He reaches for my almost-full glass.

“I think you’ve had enough.” I move my drink away from him and throw some money on the bar. “Come on?—”

“Wait.” He shoots up from his stool and almost falls over, so I grab his arm to steady him. “The Daddies were supposed to feed me, but they’re not here.” He drops his head forward.

“Come on, I’ll feed you.”

“You will?” He looks so surprised and stares at my chest.

“How about we get you fries and chicken?”

“And an ice cream?”

“Sure.”

I give a slight nod to Tyler and Mark as I help Izzy out of his chair.

“Best Daddy ever.” He leans heavily on my body as we walk out of the bar.

Did he really mean what I think he meant? Was he hoping that the men here would feed him like Tyler did with that boy?

I could just ask Izzy, but what would that do? It’s not like it would make a difference. He’d know the dirty secret I’ve been hiding my whole life, and I’d never feed him, no matter how warm his mouth is.

And just because I’m thinking about it, my chest starts to ache with that full feeling that I hate so much.

I should have at least another hour before I need to pump. But if I pump too often, then I produce more.

Biology is a bitch.

I open the door to my car and help Izzy into his seat. He leans back and closes his eyes.

This kid needs to learn to take better care of himself. He can’t remember to eat, and he’s probably been up since the butt crack of dawn, and now he’s staying up way too late.

Man, I really do sound like a Daddy.

“Thank you,” he drawls.

I straighten and realize that I just put his seatbelt on for him.

I clear my throat and end up taking him to a drive-thru.

He immediately starts digging through the bag of food I hand him, and I scold him for eating in my car.

Still not a Daddy.

I don’t even eat in my car.

“But you can eat your ice cream so it doesn’t melt all over my car.”

“Yes!” He grabs his spoon and digs in.

When we get to his house, I let him unbuckle himself and help him inside.

“Here, you sit down.” I pull out his chair. “And I’ll get you some water.” I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. We need to have the talk about bottled water again. It’s so bad for the planet, but I know he keeps losing his refillable bottles on the job, so I guess I can’t blame him.

“You need ketchup?” I ask since I’m in his fridge.

“Yes, please.”

I squeeze some onto his wrapper and notice he’s struggling to get the little tab off his sauce.

“I can help.”

He hands it over, and I open it before placing it back down next to his ketchup.

I notice he has hearts in his eyes as he watches me, so I run back to the fridge and grab another water.

I really need to get a hold of myself.

Have I always been like this?

I know he likes it when I cook for him, but would he really want someone to take care of him in other ways?

“Can you get me a napkin, please?”

I come back to the table and check the bag.

“They didn’t give us any, those jerks.”

He giggles with his mouth full.

“I noticed that all your fries are gone but not your nuggets.”

He looks down and quickly stuffs a whole nugget into his already-full mouth.

“Don’t choke yourself.”

“Sorry…” He tries to answer but can’t around his wad of food. He takes a drink and swallows. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

I nod and take a seat across from him. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Much better now.” He yawns.

“Finish up and you can get to bed.”

He smiles and eats another nugget.

Dang it. I feel the warm feeling of my chest leaking. I need to get home and fast. My nursing pads aren’t great, but I don’t have anything better.

“I need to get going.” I stand up and pat his shoulder as I head to the door.

“Thanks for taking me home tonight.”

“No problem.”

“Thanks for taking care of me. It was nice.” He sounds kind of embarrassed, and I don’t want him to be embarrassed.

“I didn’t mind.”