Page 124 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Dismissing the fleeting images, she snagged the closest bottle to hand and dumped a handful of rose-scented gel into her palm.
Wrinkling her nose as the only woman in the cabin who smelled like roses was Clara, she lathered herself up in stolen shower gel and resisted the urge to imagine Clay’s rough hands stroking her all over, or Tristan’s smooth ones gliding up and down her back.
Calling them Daddy wasn’t too big a price to pay in the grand scheme of things, was it?
Adam’s betrayal was still fresh after only a few weeks, but worse than knowing what he’d been up to was the loneliness, even in a cabin full of potential friends. He hadn’t broken her heart, barely even dented it, he’d just… made her feel worthless.
Clay…
Something inside her yearned for what he offered. She felt safe with him even after he lit her ass up like the fourth of freaking July, and he was smart, funny, with that playful element she felt resonate within herself.
God, it really was rude just to go to bed, wasn’t it? Not even a text to cancel?
It would piss her off if they did that to her.
She rinsed herself off, cut the water, then reached for the towel. No, she couldn’t in good conscience blow them off, which meant putting effort into making herself at least semi-presentable. She doubted they’d be thrilled if she turned up wearing sweats.
Netflix and chill, boys?
Hell, that was brazen, even for her.
When she’d wrapped the towel around herself and found a smaller one for her hair, Avery padded from the bathroom, down the empty hallway bisecting the cabin’s bedrooms, all the way to the end where her room was located.
The space was far less than what she was used to, but she quite liked it. She’d made it feel like home with her favorite Mallows and books on the shelves. The peg loom rug her grandmother had woven for Avery’s twelfth birthday was on the floor by the double bed.
The duvet cover, sheets, and pillowcases were all Squishmallow, but she always covered her entire bed with a spread, hiding her secret, just in case one of her roommates got nosy and broke the cabin rule of no snooping in other people’s rooms.
She had like half an hour before she was supposed to meet the Daddy Doms in The Nursery. A quick ten-minute nap wouldn’t hurt anyone; at least then she might not fall asleep on them in mid-conversation.
She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled open the top drawer of the matching table to retrieve her alarm clock. More often than not, it ended up being tossed in there after several snoozes on the occasional mornings when her energy was down in the dungeons.
After setting the alarm for ten minutes, with a reminder in fifteen, Avery flopped backward on the bed in just the towel and closed her eyes. Ten minutes would fly by, but those minutes were rejuvenating.
She’d be refreshed and ready to take on two Doms, no problem.
Tristan
She didn’t show up.
After waiting for forty-five minutes in the Nursery, watching two Little boys and a Little girl playing in the gigantic ball pit, it was perfectly fucking obvious the sweet, shy baker had stood them up.
It wasn’t something he was accustomed to—no one in his life, aside from his parents, had ever dared not turn up at an agreed time and place.
It just wasn’t done, mainly because the women who ran in his circles knew they only got one shot at his bed, and if they fucked it up, there was no second invitation.
But Avery… he hadn’t expected it from her.
Part of him was angry, mainly because he’d spent the remainder of the afternoon filled with something he’d never felt before when it came to a woman—anticipation.
Not of fucking her, but simply seeing her and being in her presence.
It was a bewildering experience, to be so enamored with a woman who showed so little interest in him, his existence barely registered on her radar.
Glancing at Clay, sitting in an armchair reserved for parental figures and guardians, Tristan heaved a sigh. “Guess that’s that, then. A fucking waste of time on all fronts.”
Sharp blue eyes lifted lazily. “You finished pacing yet?”
“Yes. No.”
“Let me know when you’re done.”
How the guy could be so fucking patient was beyond him. For the last three-quarters of an hour, he’d checked his watch infrequently, simply sitting in the goddamn chair and biding his time as though they hadn’t been left looking like idiots.
The anger clashed with a surge of disappointment as Tristan stopped wearing a path in the carpet, throwing himself into the chair beside Clay’s. “Why aren’t you mad?”
“I am, but when anger bounces between two Dominant personalities, it builds. It grows teeth and gets nasty. I’m not prepared to track Avery down and corner her between two men who don’t have control over a volatile emotion.
” Clay shot his cuff back to check his watch.
“There may be a good reason why she’s so late.
Maybe she got caught up in her work or held up by a guest. Until we know the why, there’s no point losing patience.
She’ll only become defensive and aggressive, which turns the whole thing into a clusterfuck. ”
Tristan mulled that over, eventually coming to the conclusion that it was a valid point.
He forced himself to relax in the comfortable chair, to let the barrage of emotions sloshing around inside him drain away until he didn’t want to drown the happy Littles in the ocean of cheerfully colorful balls. “So, how long are we going to wait?”
“Are you sure you’re done with your internal tantrum?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Then we’re not waiting anymore.” Clay pushed himself out of the chair and stretched leisurely.
“This is a tenuous situation, Tristan. We know she’s a good girl at heart, so going in all guns blazing won’t help anything.
Being a Daddy means reading your Little and understanding what she needs—whether it’s cuddles, a spanking, a goddamn nap when she’s overtired and lashing out.
Patience is your greatest tool in dealing with a Little, especially Avery. ”
“Bit hard to be patient with her when she doesn’t believe what she is.”
They walked together through the play areas, waving goodbye to the giggling trio in the ball pit, then to Mistresses Ericka and Felicity who were on monitor duty.
“Oh, she knows what she is, she just doesn’t have a clue how to handle herself.
Releasing her inner child is difficult because she struggles to rein her back in.
If she let her out to play more often, she’d be able to find the balance, and in turn, the joy.
” Clay pushed through the doors into the anteroom, then out into the late evening dregs of sunlight.
“We have a unique chance to play a part in shaping her from the ground up, without smothering or overwhelming her. Tiny steps, small leaps of confidence, and she’ll discover happiness in her Little self rather than fearing her. ”
Gravel crunched under their boots; Tristan didn’t know where Clay was going, but he wasn’t going to be left behind.
It stunned him that he wanted to learn how to be a Daddy, how to harness himself the way Clay did, as though nothing fazed him.
More, knowing he wanted to be an instrumental part of Avery’s life, if he had to share her with Clay, he didn’t want to be the sub-par Daddy in the dynamic.
“What do I need to do?”
“First step is finding her and making sure she’s okay.
A sub’s health and welfare comes above all else, no matter their kink.
Littles, pets, ponies, they’re all a person beneath the vision.
Once we know she’s not injured or upset, we get to the bottom of her tardiness.
” Clay shot him a side-eyed warning. “If you feel yourself losing your temper, excuse yourself and step outside until you’ve calmed down.
If I think you’re not in control, I’ll do whatever I need to do in order to protect her. ”
“I’m not that stupid.”
“You think you’re not. Littles have a way of straining even the tightest rein of control and until you’ve gone up against one, you might react a lot differently than you think.”
They were heading for the main clubhouse, Tristan realized. Of course, the first place to check would be the kitchen—Avery was working on an important project, she may very well have lost track of time.
“Are you going to treat me like an idiot the whole time?”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot, per se. What you are is a novice Daddy with zero experience with Littles and their fluctuating moods. Add in a Little who swings faster than a roper’s lasso, putting the two of you together is like setting a match to a hidden fuse on a fucking mountain of gunpowder.”
“Oh.”
“Avery has a temper, I know that for a fact. So do you—I’ve seen it simmering behind your eyes.
I don’t want to risk my one chance at being with her because the pair of you lose your shit with each other.
If that happens,” Clay warned so darkly, Tristan couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, “I’m taking my belt to both your asses until you come to your senses. ”
Said ass clenched tightly, not thrilled with the idea of being lashed with a strip of leather. Particularly not when those massive biceps were the driving force behind the swing. “Message received.”
“Excellent. I don’t like repeating myself.”
The night air was warm, almost humid, but still now. The cacophonous noise from the construction end of the club was quiet for the weekend, resuming on Monday morning if the schedule he’d seen was correct.
Glorious, silent Sunday was almost upon them.
“Do you have a plan if she’s just decided to ghost us?”