Page 113 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Chapter Three
Clay
Waiting was one of his best skills.
Patience was a cattleman’s tool, right up there with his horse and lariat.
If a man lost his shit when dealing with a cow, she’d give him it back tenfold.
He’d learned, after a few dozen hard lessons, that sometimes biding time was ultimately more productive than rushing into a situation; cleanup from a mistake could take a lot longer than the time it took to simply wait.
Avery struck him as a woman who needed a man to be patient.
Couldn’t blame her, could he? If he found out his girlfriend—if he had one—was cheating on him just four days ago, he’d probably still be at the bottom of a bottle…
or sitting in jail waiting for someone to bail his drunken ass out after starting a bar brawl.
Instead, the doe-eyed Little was forging a whole new path for herself, away from the asshole who was somehow blind to what he’d had.
Clay wasn’t worried about her not getting the job. If Evander got the same vibes off her that he did, his boss would know instantly she was the right fit for the club, no matter what position she’d applied for, and snap her up.
Not many people would’ve looked past his own history—he’d spent nearly all his life on the back of a horse, roping cattle and riding rough country. He’d still be there if that godforsaken cow hadn’t tried to send him back to his maker, but he believed what he’d said to Avery about fate.
It played a hand in everything.
He believed it was fate when a simple conversation between his former boss and another rancher in Montana, Finn McLeod, brought Clay to the attention of a BDSM club in Washington D.C.
, then to Evander and Serenity. To this day, he didn’t know what was said, but someone in the universe saw fit to guide him where he belonged.
If he couldn’t handle the rigors of ranching life anymore, he had no issue with utilizing his other skills as a second career. Being a Master here, even for just these few short weeks, felt like a calling, one he was happy to answer.
When the doors opened and Avery stepped out looking slightly shellshocked, with Evander filling up the space behind her, Clay rose and lifted an eyebrow. His boss seemed pleased; Avery clutched her reindeer and a folder to her chest, her expression… disbelieving.
“Clay, would you mind giving Avery a quick tour of the staff living quarters?”
“Of course.”
“Violet is heading into the city in an hour; she’s offered to drive Avery home.”
Clay nodded, suddenly wishing he’d thought to offer first. The inconvenience of driving all the way to Denver and back just to take her home would’ve been worth it to spend more time with her.
She fascinated him, and he got the feeling that once she lost her nerves and started to sneak out of her shell, she was going to be a lot of fun to be around.
“Avery,” Evander said firmly, waiting until she turned to look up at him, those big dark eyes stunned and wide. “We look forward to welcoming you to the family at the end of the month. If you have any problems or need help with the transition, get in touch.”
“I… Thank you.” When Evander gave her the look , she swallowed hard and repeated, “Thank you, Master Evander.”
“Good girl.” Evander smiled and stepped back, nodding at Clay before closing the doors and returning to whatever a millionaire spent his time doing during work hours.
“So, congratulations are in order,” Clay said, holding out his hand.
Avery stared at him. “I filled the application form in drunk.”
“I see.”
“He’s fluent in Little-ese.”
Clay almost choked on a laugh. “You’ll probably find most Doms around here are, sweetling. When the Littles gang up and start plotting mayhem, how else are we supposed to foil their plans?”
Apparently dumbstruck, she continued staring at him like her brain was in glitch mode.
“I-I don’t even know if I am a… Little,” she told him in a flat voice.
“I just got offered a job that pays more than I’ve earned in the last three years and comes with accommodation by a man who reads a language I didn’t even know existed. What the hell?”
“Evander’s a generous employer,” Clay said simply.
“He pays well but expects his employees to work hard for it. He doesn’t see Serenity’s success as his own achievement, but as a team effort from the ground up.
As for the rest…” He paused, formulating his words carefully.
“Littles are both a joy and a mystery, Avery. Just like children, they have their own language, their own fantastic worlds. It’s part of what makes them special.
Doms—Daddy Doms in particular—have an affinity for them, which means they learn how to take care of them, love them, understand them.
Decoding the language is just one step.”
“I don’t have any of that.”
“Sounds like you do. Coloring books and stuffie collections? Cartoons and tantrums? Repressing your Little is bound to make her cranky. All that sass and energy crammed down where it can’t escape?
” Clay tsked softly, shaking his head. “I’m surprised you haven’t exploded like one of those soda rockets. ”
“What?”
“You know the videos where some idiot drops Mentos into a bottle of soda and the two react? The bottle takes off like a rocket.” Setting his hand lightly on her shoulder, he guided her back down the hallway to the stairs. “What else did Evander tell you?”
“He doesn’t think housekeeping is the right position for me.”
“That’s what you applied for, housekeeping?” Well, she would look hot in the uniform, he mused, keeping that thought to himself. “What position did he give you instead?”
“He said he would ask his husband.”
Now that was intriguing. Those two usually only conferred when they were up to something—Elias was the dominant husband, but Evander was head honcho in the business. It worked well for them, and good things happened when they put their heads together for a new idea.
“They’ll make sure you get the best place for your talents, Avery. Did he mention which residential area you’re going to be allocated?”
“Um… the staff cabins to the west.”
“They have lovely views of the valley.”
“He said playing isn’t obligatory, but staff are offered a membership as an added benefit. I’m guessing play is a euphemism for sex?”
“Not necessarily. BDSM isn’t all sex and spanking, Avery.
A submissive isn’t required to have a Dom if they don’t want one.
Playing is…” Clay shifted his hand to her lower back as they descended the stairs in case she tripped; she seemed numb, as though Evander had overloaded her with information.
“Personal preference. We have puppies, kittens, and ponies who play in their own little world. Littles who spend hours by themselves just being . Subs who find a Dom for a night, simply to explore who they are and discover what they need.”
“What do you get out of it?”
“Me personally or Doms in general?”
“You.”
“Hmmm, good question. The opportunity to spend time with people from different walks of life. Can’t really have a meaningful conversation with cows and horses, although they’re excellent listeners.
” Her soft laugh stroked over his skin. “With things being quiet at the moment, I don’t really have much to go on.
The few people I’ve taught over the last several weeks have been fun and willing to learn, which I like.
Being a Dom means I get to let my dominant side out for stroll—much like your Little, he gets grumpy if I hold him back for too long.
I like toying with different kinks, improving my skills, discovering more about myself.
Sex is a huge plus, if and when I find the right partner. ”
Avery made a noise in her throat. “Maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can handle.”
The reception desk was still empty when they passed it and headed back out into the hot summer day. The punch of heat and collective hum of insects made him yearn for a hint of breeze, bringing back memories of sweltering cattle drives.
“Only you can decide that. If you ask me, I think you’re capable of doing anything you put your mind to—you just need to decide if you can be happy here before you do anything else.
” Clay let her think on that as they went down the steps onto the path, then stopped and pointed down a different track.
“The Nursery is five minutes in that direction. We have time to take a look if you want.”
“Nursery? Diapers and sippy cups aren’t my thing.”
“Sweetling, it’s so much more than that, trust me.” Checking his watch, he murmured, “Fuck it. This is more important than living conditions—which are fantastic, by the way. More like a hotel than a bunkhouse.”
This time when he held out his hand, she took it. “Do you miss it?”
“Ranching or the bunkhouse? Both,” he answered for her when she hesitated.
“I miss both, although not so much the farting after Cookie’s curry night.
” Something tugged inside him when she laughed.
Towing her along the second path, he continued, “During my rehab and the physical therapy, I missed my friends. The camaraderie. Being part of a team that was family. But once I came here, I found it all again. New friends. Sure, and the vibes are different, but I feel like I’m home. ”
“Without the farts.”
Now he laughed. “That, I can’t guarantee. It’s a different way of life here, but… I don’t know how to explain it. You have to live it to understand what I mean.”
The sound of gravel crunching gently under their feet filled the brief silence as he led her to the huge cabin housing the Little nirvana. Avery planted her feet at the bottom of the steps.
“What happens if I quit my job, give up my apartment, isolate myself out here with strangers, and all this goes to shit?”