Page 121 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)

Chapter Six

Clay

She was trying her damnedest to avoid him.

After yesterday’s spanking and the full hour of cuddling disguised as aftercare, Clay’s hopes had risen that she might feel more comfortable in his presence, and in her own. Her Little was tenacious, curious, completely and utterly stifled by the weight of her adult counterpart.

She’d fitted against him perfectly, curled against his chest, and for that whole blessed hour, she’d given herself permission to just be .

Adult Avery was reserved, shy, closemouthed.

Little Avery was a babbler, spilling her thoughts and asking questions, even when she was half asleep. Given freedom, her brain bounced like a rubber ball off glass walls, pinging around in all directions—she was inquisitive by nature, muted by an idiot.

Standing in the doorway of the room the kitchen crew now called The Bakery , Clay leaned against the jamb and watched her work.

She hadn’t noticed him yet—she was focused on the creation taking pride of place on the counter, and the earbuds she wore were blasting music loud enough he could hear it from ten feet away.

Her attention to detail was phenomenal—the two-tier cake was covered in a layer of green marzipan. A darker shade of green fondant formed grass tufts around the edges, and she’d made tiny bunny rabbits to peek through the edible foliage.

Beneath the watchful gaze of the reindeer Clay had given her before her interview, Avery hunched over a block of Rice Krispie cake, carefully carving a figure into the sticky treat. Despite the funky beat emanating from her earbuds, her hands and body were steady as a rock.

She was amazing.

Deciding not to disturb her when she was so engrossed—and holding a sharp knife in her hand—Clay backed away slowly. He’d come back in a couple hours to complete his original mission of checking she was okay after her spanking and emotional purging.

He waved at Allan, narrowly missed colliding with Petey, and made a hasty exit into the dining room. The breakfast rush was tapering off slowly, with about a dozen guests loitering over coffee and the remnants of their meal.

“Master Clay?”

He stopped, glancing around to see who’d summoned him, and found himself meeting mercurial blue-gray eyes. Familiar eyes in a familiar face, he thought, then realized it was the guy who’d watched him carry Avery upstairs yesterday. “Yes?”

“Could I have a few moments of your time?”

“Sure.” Dealing with guests and their needs was part of his job. Hopefully, he’d be able to handle this guy’s requirements without too much difficulty. “What can I do for you?”

The blond looked around, then gestured to a table tucked away in the corner. “We might have more privacy over there.”

“Okay…” Warily, Clay gestured for him to take the lead. While guests were screened when they applied for membership, sometimes the loonies found a way to slip in. Until he knew what this guy wanted, Clay wasn’t turning his back on him.

They sat in tandem, facing each other, and the guy smiled ruefully.

“Guess you think this is pretty strange, right? Honestly, I’m not usually this socially awkward, but I feel a bit like I’m missing a shoe.

” When Clay’s eyebrows rose, he shook his head.

“Off-kilter. This whole situation is new to me.”

“What situation?”

“Fuck. I’m doing it all wrong. Tristan Holdsworth.” He shot out his hand, shaking Clay’s firmly when he took it. “I’m not crazy, I promise. Not gay either, in case you think I’m hitting on you.”

“That’s good, seeing as I’m straight as an arrow.” What the hell was going on here?

“Double fuck. Look, I’m new here; I just arrived yesterday.

Figured I’d visit the bar, get a drink, chill out for a few hours and crash, you know?

Only…” Tristan frowned, obviously perturbed by something.

“This woman walks in carrying some boxes and suddenly, all I see is her. All I want is her. You ever have that happen to you?”

“Yeah.” Recently, as luck would have it.

“Turns out, she might have a Dom. I saw her being carted off upstairs like a child by someone who bears a striking resemblance to you.” Those odd eyes burned into Clay’s intensely.

So, that’s what this was about, he thought, feeling his hackles rise. There was no reason for them to react that way—Avery hadn’t asked him to be her Daddy, and he hadn’t put the question forward. Still, the possessive, primal part of him wanted to snarl, Mine .

“You want Avery.”

“I do, very much.” Tristan’s stare continued to burn, but not as fiercely.

He sighed heavily. “I’m used to getting what I want, Clay.

Money isn’t an object and, more often than not, it’s a lure dangling in the water for a lot of women.

They like being spoiled and treated like a princess, they enjoy what it can buy them, but she…

I don’t think she’s that kind of woman.”

Clay said nothing.

“I’m here to visit my best friend, so suddenly stumbling across a woman who might mean something more than all the others put together is a shock. I talked with Mack and Liam yesterday?—”

“You’re friends with Mack and Liam,” Clay interrupted, his tone dubious.

“Mack. Seems they’re a two-for-one deal now.”

“Hmmm.”

“They’re under the impression you’ve got Avery earmarked for yourself. That leaves me with two options, doesn’t it?”

Clay leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Does it?”

“Fighting you for her would probably result in having my ass handed to me in pieces—Mack warned me of your former career, and I’m inclined to agree you’d have a distinct advantage in a physical conflict. Besides, this face?” Amusement flickered briefly. “It would not look good bruised and bloody.”

He could agree with that; the asshole was good-looking, if a little pampered. Strongly tanned, but that color wasn’t from working out in the sun all day. Tanning booths or a spray tan was his guess. “Roughing it up might brighten my day.”

“But it would suck. The alternative option is what I’m doing now.”

“Dancing around the bush?”

“Talking to you. Trying to find a way around said bush to ask if you would consider… fuck it. I want Avery, Clay, and so do you. There has to be a way we can share her without killing each other. I mean, Mack and Liam found a way, and so have the club owners, right? They’re all happily married and whatever. ”

He inhaled slowly. “What if I’m not inclined to share?

You’ve already said you’re a spoiled rich boy who gets what he wants, Tristan.

Spoiled rich boys usually break their toys or discard them when boredom kicks in.

” He raked his gaze over the other man, assessing how much his clothes and watch must have set him back.

“I’m guessing you’ve never had a long-term relationship.

Hell, one-nighters are probably your specialty. Fuck and leave, am I right?”

“A man can change with the right incentive.”

“And you believe Avery is the right incentive for you?”

“I do.” The earnest tone of voice was full of conviction.

“Huh. Well, there’s just one small problem with your suggestion, Tristan. Avery isn’t mine yet. Even if she was, it would be her decision whether or not she opened herself to two Doms. Coming to me first was brave, but you missed the target.”

“I don’t think I did. Yesterday, when she was cradled on your hip, she looked content even though she was crying.

Sure, she was upset, but that wasn’t the vibe I got off her, otherwise I’d have intervened.

Whatever you did to her, it soothed an unhappy part of her I’d noticed when she was in the bar.

” Tristan jabbed a finger in Clay’s direction.

“As for you, you looked like the cat who’d just eaten the cream straight from the source.

You think of yourself as her Dom, and so does she, even if you don’t know it yet. ”

All right, he’d play along. Stepping into the role—hypothetically or not—Clay shrugged and loosened his arms. After a second, he lifted his hand for the waiter and didn’t have to wait long. “Coffee, black.”

“Of course, Master Clay. And you, sir?”

Tristan pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Caramel macchiato?”

“I can do that for you, sir. I’ll be back with your order shortly.” The waiter hurried off, obviously pleased to have something productive to do.

“Let’s say your observations are correct and Avery decides to make things official. As her Daddy, why the fuck would I let a stranger who’s admitted to being a goddamn playboy anywhere near her?”

His mouth worked like a creek trout caught on a hook. No sound came out.

“Uh-huh, that’s a real convincing argument right there.

Maybe you’re a decent guy who wants to change, maybe you’re an asshole who likes chasing a prize.

I don’t know. What I do know is that Avery needs stability, a firm hand, kindness, and all the other fine details that keep a Little happy and well-adjusted. ”

Tristan’s mouth set in a determined line. “I can be a Daddy.”

Clay snorted. “Sugar Daddy, maybe.”

“Mack and Liam are going to teach me.”

That gave him pause. If the two Masters thought there was something redeemable in this guy, was it fair to deny him the opportunity? Everyone deserved a second chance, didn’t they? Even men who used their dicks like a divining rod to source fresh pussy every night of the damn week.

Scowling, Clay tapped his fingertips on the table. “They’re going to teach you how to be a Daddy Dom. That doesn’t mean I’m going to allow you to use Avery as some kind of kinky test dummy. If you want to be involved in our hypothetical dynamic, I’ll teach you myself.”

“But—”