Page 8 of Daddy’s Little Chaos Gremlin (The Lactin Brotherhood)

8

ZEPHYR

Loud, growled rumbles echoed up the hallway as Mr. Rowan told someone off. I’d heard a burst of music first and wondered if it was a neighbor being loud the way he kept warning us not to be. We were really trying, but the walls in the building seemed really thin, maybe because it was a newer place, unlike Honey Hearth, which had been an amazing Victorian Era home more than a hundred years old. I’d never even heard Grayson crying on the nights Josh claimed that he’d been fussy, and they’d been in the room next door to mine. I felt bad that Tristan was racking up chores when I was laughing and being loud right along with him and planned to ask Mr. Rowan if it was okay for me to help him, since I’d helped get him into trouble.

I just had to wait for him to be done grumbling at whoever had made him mad.

When I looked over at Tristan, I saw him staring down at his hands where they were clasped together in his lap, his lower lip trembling when Mr. Rowan’s bellowed Is he out of his fuckin’ mind? drifted up the hall. We both flinched before Tristan wrapped his arms around me and kissed my temple.

“Something bad happened at Daddy’s work,” Tristan explained. “He never gets mad like this unless someone screws up badly.”

Tensing, I made a mental vow never to fuck up. It was scary listening to him tell whoever it was that they’d better fix whatever had gone wrong before he was forced to get involved.

“Not me,” Tristan blurted, still holding on to me. “He’s never once yelled at me that way, and he won’t yell at you like that, either. He saves that for the people who work in his security business where messing up can get someone killed. If we mess up and get hurt or something bad happens to us, Daddy will blame it on himself for not watching us better or thinking ahead and planning accordingly ‘cause he’s supposed to be the one guarding us.”

When Tristan said it that way, I could see where it was different. Every time he called Mr. Rowan Daddy and me his baby brother made me long to call Mr. Rowan Daddy, too, but I was waiting to be told that it was okay.

And to earn the contract.

He’ll be here.

Mr. Rowan had been adamant about that when Mr. Phillip had wanted to set up my follow-up appointment, but it was all so fast. I knew better than to settle in completely until all the I’s had been dotted and the T’s had been crossed. I’d had contracts fall apart at the last minute through no fault of my own, like when the carnival owner who’d planned to hire me for the season was told by his accountant that not only couldn’t he afford me, he was going to have to cut three other acts loose before they got on the road, or he’d run out of payroll money before they’d earned back their operating costs. That’s how I’d wound up with Paulie and his family in the first place. They’d been one of the other acts let go, and with our complementary skills, it had only seemed wise to head out on the road together.

You tell him that I want his face on my video screen in thirty minutes or he can consider himself fired with no chance in hell of receiving a reference from me. As it is, I’d like to speak to Kelly when I’m finished with Ryan to see why the fuck he suggested him for the position in the first place if this is the bullshit he was known to pull. Why are we only hearing about this shit now when he’s been on assignment for the past twelve days? I needed to know these things before I trusted the safety of one of my clients to an incompetent who allows a kid without proper documentation into Katana’s dressing room on just his word that he’s Katana’s son! Was he smoking something that I need to know about? If that’s the case, then he’s still fired but at least it’s half a good god damned reason for that kind of abject stupidity.

“Oh yeah, Daddy is pissed,” Tristan murmured.

“Is there anything that we can do to make it better?” I asked.

“Not until he’s finished with them. Then we can crawl in his lap and cuddle with him and have a little suckie, that really helps calm his nerves and settle him down when someone’s upset him,” Tristan explained. “If Mr. Phillip was here with his blood pressure cuff, it would prolly burst trying to get a reading on Daddy’s.”

I giggled at that, because I could picture the dial spinning with an angry red face at the center, steam streaming out of its ears as the needle fell off.

“Can you see it in your head?” Tristan asked.

“Uh-huh,” I replied. “With an angry face and steam and everything. You should draw him a picture.”

“Let’s draw it together,” Tristan suggested as he let go of me so he could retrieve his sketchpad and some colored pencils.

With the contents spread out in front of us, we stretched out side by side on pillows we hastily plunked onto the floor, a blanket over our feet to keep them warm as we started drawing. I really needed to get some socks the next time I was at a store that sold them. The weather was warm enough now, but when winter rolled around, I knew I’d want something between my feet and the wooden floors.

That’s how he found us when he returned to the living room, his hair standing out on one side like he’d been running his fingers through it.

“Oh good, I see you’ve found something to keep you occupied,” he said, looming over us for a moment. “I’m afraid I need to retire to the bedroom for a little while to deal with a bit of incompetence. There’s fruit and a few sandwich squares left in the fridge, though damn it all, those were made with the deli meat.”

I leapt up to give him a hug, snuggling against him when he wrapped me in his embrace and sighed. “It’s okay,” I murmured. “I can eat the fruit and a square won’t hurt me any if I’m hungry enough to have one.”

“It will be the last time you have to eat that crap, either of you,” he said as he opened an arm so Tristan could join us. “Just let me deal with this mess and you’ll be back to having my undivided attention.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Tristan said. “We’re coloring a picture for you.”

He hugged us tighter at hearing that and kissed the tops of both of our heads. “You guys have already made things a thousand times better.”

“Then we’ll have to shoot for a million when you’re done,” I said, feeling a little snarky.

When he threw his head back and laughed while squeezing us tighter, I knew it had gone over well. The few Daddies I’d known had never minded a teensy-weensy bit of snark from their boys, as long as no lines were crossed. It seemed like Mr. Roman might be okay with that, too, as long as I didn’t go overboard.

“All right, you two, back to your drawing while I go get ready to take a bite out of someone’s ass.”

“Wish it was mine,” Tristan muttered, prompting another round of laughter from Mr. Rowan.

“Go on now, get,” he said, turning us loose only to smack us both on our asses as we walked away. Nothing too hard, but it did sting a little, just like I imagined his teeth might if he ever bit into my bottom.

Shivering, I squirmed against the pillow as I struggled to get comfortable, the image that had popped into my head had left me with a little problem tenting the front of my shorts. It had been months since I’d been filled and fucked until I was completely sated that it was hard not to think about the bulge that had been in his pants that morning when he’d tugged me onto his lap while I’d nursed.

“What’s wrong, is something poking you?” Tristan asked. “Lift up and I’ll help you smooth out the blanket.”

“That’s not it.”

“Oh.”

“The pillow’s just making me a little uncomfy at the moment,” I grumbled as I squirmed a hand down the front of my shorts.

“Ohh, I can help with that if you want me to,” Tristan offered, setting the sketchpad aside so he could slide a hand up the back of my shirt.

“Please,” I groaned, squirming closer.

Now that he was touching me, every memory of our make-out session the night before came flooding back and I was curious to see how much further we could take things.

“We should get these out of the way,” he remarked, giving the bottom of my shorts a little tug while his other hand rubbed up my back.

“Let’s just ditch all the clothes and get nakey,” I suggested, already starting to wiggle out of those shorts.

“Heck yeah!”

His shirt flew over my head and my legs got twisted up in my shorts when I tried to remove them. He had long sleep pants on and got caught up in them worse than I did. Laughing as hard as we were made it difficult to free ourselves, but he was as hard as I was when we crashed together, naked as our lips met, and the immediate brush of skin against skin made us both groan.

His hair was so long and thick that when I ran my fingers through it, the strands fell in waves over my hand. He tasted like the strawberry milk we’d had right before Mr. Phillip had arrived, and as his finger skimmed down the center of my back, I flicked my tongue over his lips, tasting them. He cupped my ass and dragged me closer, using his hold on me to rock our bodies together as we made out.

“Is it okay if I touch more?” he murmured against my lips, even as a finger slid down my crease, not very far, just enough so there wasn’t any mistaking what he was talking out.

“Can I touch, too?” I asked as my hand glided up his hip.

“I’d be sad if you didn’t.”

I wanted to see if his nipples were sensitive, like mine were, and the moment I glided a fingertip over one, he gasped and pressed his hips against mine, grinding our erections together. Giving it a little pinch produced a shudder, and he whined as he kissed along the edge of my jaw, his breathy words sending puffs of warm air against my skin. He barely ghosted a finger over my entrance, and I could feel the growing wetness between us as precum dribbled from our cocks, the constant friction ratcheting the level of pleasure up with every glide.

“Y-you don’t have any toys, do you?” he moaned as I twisted the nipple I’d pinched. “M-mine are stuck in the room with Daddy.”

He cried out the word when I pinched a second time, a shiver running through his body while I tried to figure out why he wanted to play something now when we were already having so much fun. It only dawned on me that he meant the other kind of toys when he slid the tip of a spit-slicked finger inside me and all I could think about was that it wasn’t enough, and I needed more.

“N-o,” I choked out, squirming as my cheeks heated up a little. “N-never had the n-n-nerve to b-buy one.”

Purring in my ear, he nuzzled my neck, lightly nipping the skin as we caressed one another. “Hmmm, we’ll have to fix that.”

I’d have asked why he needed toys when he had a Daddy, but this moment made it painfully obvious. I doubted he topped and I knew I didn’t, so heavy petting, frotting, and fingering were just going to have to get us where we wanted to be. Not that I minded. I was already so keyed up that when he pressed his finger deeper, I squirmed and rocked against him, pinched his nipple and twisted until he cried out, coming as hard as I did when he hit that magic spot inside of me and made everything explode.

In the aftermath, as we lay gasping and panting, lips so close together we could share lazy kisses as we sighed and moaned, I couldn’t think of a single moment that had been more perfect. His hand still pressed against the curve of my ass, holding me tight to him, and I wondered if he had the same fear that I did, that if one of us let go, the other would just vanish and we’d wake up alone, horny from the remnants of a dream. I’d lost track of how many times I’d woken up that way, sad to discover that the fantasy my dreams had created was nothing more than a memory evaporating into a haze of fragmented memories.

“I don’t wanna move,” he murmured, “even to finish Daddy’s drawing.”

“I think he’s gonna be awhile,” I said as a whisper of a curse drifted out from beneath the door.

“Yeah, he’s still chewin’ someone’s ass.”

Giggling, I rested my head on his shoulder and settled in for a little nap, wondering how long it would be before he finished ripping someone a new one and emerged to discover us naked and messy from dried sweat and cum. My last thought, before I drifted off, was to wonder if he’d clean us up before he fed us, or if he’d just make us messier once he’d seen what we’d done.