Page 30 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Chapter Sixteen
The outside patio by the pool, DD Estate, Dreamer’s Cove
Drake & Damian
The night wrapped around Drake and Damian like a velvet cloak as they settled into the deck chairs beside the pool.
As natural as breathing, Drake’s hand found Damian’s.
It was a gesture born from decades of shared struggles and victories.
Their fingers intertwined with practiced ease as the physical connection grounded them both as it had since their boarding school days.
Though their relationship had never ventured into intimate sexual territory, their bond transcended traditional definitions.
Touch between them had always been their anchor.
That kind varied, depending on the situation they were in, like a squeeze of a shoulder during business meetings, a steadying hand in times of stress, and fingers linked during crucial decisions.
It was this profound connection that made sharing their Little ones so natural.
All their relationships with Littles were based on a ménage à trois.
Their physical and emotional intimacy complemented rather than competed.
“God, I love this place. I’m always so at peace here,” Drake murmured with his gaze locked on the waves crashing against the shore below. Crickets provided nature’s symphony.
“This is the only place I ever see you relax and shake off that iron shield you always carry around your heart.”
“A man has to protect himself, right?” Drake’s gaze drifted, watching how the moonlight painted silver ribbons across the water’s surface.
“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Drake swiveled and changed the subject as his thumb traced familiar patterns on Damian’s hand.
“Utterly.” Damian shifted closer until their shoulders touched. “It was commendable how she fought until the very end, then without warning, surrendered so completely.”
“Just like us when we were young.” Drake’s voice turned gruff under the burden of shared memories that were always in the back of his mind. “Always having to be strong, to prove ourselves worthy of attention that never came.”
They sat in companionable silence, remembering the lonely years before they found each other.
Two lost boys in boarding school, learning in a cruel way through parental absenteeism that love didn’t have to come with conditions attached.
Their hands remained linked, drawing strength from each other as they had for so many years.
“Her proposal about being a tomboy…” Damian mused, his free hand absently rubbing Drake’s forearm. “It could work in our favor.”
Drake’s lips curved into a predatory smile. “Indeed. Our little wildcat will earn twice the spankings climbing trees and getting into mischief.”
“We’ll need to set firm boundaries.” Damian’s voice took on the stern edge that made their Little ones shiver. “I am not budging on diapers at bedtime or wearing onesies. Both are non- negotiable. The bottle at night as well since every good little tomboy needs strong bones.”
“Agreed.” Drake leaned into Damian’s touch as they continued to plan Elle’s modified transition. “Miguel can repaint the nursery in autumn colors. Warm yellows, oranges, and bronze shades, I think. The local artists can do a mural of ponies and bugs in the forest to replace the frills.”
“I like the idea of using a local artist,” Damian’s mind was already racing with possibilities. “What about the crib?”
“Definitely stays. We can’t have our little tomboy falling out of bed at night.”
They chuckled as each conjured up how she would respond to hearing them say that.
“Amanda can go to George Town and buy a large rocking horse,” Damian suggested with an evil smile. “One that’s sturdy enough for proper rides.”
Drake smirked. “And this time, you can tell her the new rules. I’m tired of always being the bearer of disappointing news.”
“There goes my advantage in winning her heart first,” Damian chuckled, but the sound faded into seriousness. He turned to face Drake. “We have three months, Drake. Three months to make her realize she belongs with us permanently.”
“So, let’s make every second count. I don’t believe there’s another like her out there for us. For me.” Drake’s voice grew husky with raw honesty. “It’s her or no one. I’ve never felt this... complete with anyone else we’ve tried.”
“Agreed.” Damian cupped Drake’s jaw in a gesture of comfort they had shared countless times. “I refuse to spend our golden years as two grumpy old men sitting on rocking chairs alone on this patio. She’s the missing piece we’ve searched for.”
“This is one acquisition we will not fail to secure.” Drake leaned into the touch. His voice carried the same determination that had built their empire. “We’ll give her the nurturing neither of us received and show her that love doesn’t require perfection.”
“While ensuring she maintains that fierce independence that drew us to her,” Damian added, dropping his hand but maintaining their other connection.
“She won’t. It’s part of who she is. We’ll just guide her to... properly channel her energy.”
Their fingers remained intertwined as they gazed at the stars, their thoughts centered on the sleeping angel upstairs who had unknowingly claimed their hearts so long ago at that sport’s day and cementing their belief that she was the one with her first defiant glare in the bakery not so long ago.
Their physical closeness, as always, provided the foundation from which they would build their future.
This time, hopefully, with a precious Little as their missing piece.
Drake’s master bedroom, a little after midnight
Drake
Drake woke up from a soft curse sounding over the baby monitor. Before he could rise to check on her, footsteps in the hallway made him relax back against his pillows. The door creaked open, revealing Elle in her pink-polka-dot onesie, her hair tousled from sleep.
Pride and tenderness surged through him. Despite being the strict disciplinarian, the one who had taken care of all her punishment, she still sought him out in a moment of vulnerability. It spoke volumes about the building of trust between them, even if she wasn’t consciously aware of it yet.
He watched through slitted eyelids as she tiptoed closer. The moonlight from the open glass doors cast a silvery glow around her. She looked ethereally beautiful, and he had a hard time not catching his breath.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she debated her next move, then quickly lifted the sheet and slipped in beside him but hugged the edge of the mattress while watching him intently.
“What are you doing out of bed, Elle?”
She startled at his voice. “I can’t sleep in there, Daddy,” she said softly.
“Every time I open my eyes, those pink sashes look like a giant spider ready to jump on me and weave them around me like a web.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“I’ll be quiet, I promise. I won’t even move, but can I please sleep with you, Daddy? ”
His heart swelled at her choice to come to him rather than Damian, who had been notably gentler in their interactions. Perhaps she instinctively understood that beneath his stern exterior lay an equally nurturing soul.
“Normally, I would consider this manipulation, but since the circumstances are somewhat... different…” He studied her face. “Very well, babygirl, as long as this doesn’t become the norm. You will sleep where we tell you, is that understood?”
“Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy.”
Closing his eyes, Drake pretended to drift off. After five minutes of near-silent breathing, her hesitant voice broke the quiet. “Daddy... may I... I still can’t sleep. Would you hold me, please?”
Now, how the hell was he supposed to say no to that?
His heart melted at the vulnerability in her request. Reaching for her, he pulled her into his arms, chuckling at her surprised gasp when she realized he was naked.
“I suggest you stay still, babygirl, unless you’re prepared to wake the ‘one-eyed monster’ and feed it,” he warned when she peeked at him through her lashes.
The decadent bouquet of her arousal that drifted to tease his senses alerted him to how she was about to react.
There was nothing he’d like more than to fuck her senseless, but as with everything in her transition, that too would happen at the right time and the right place.
“He’s famished, and once Daddy Damian hears your cries and pleas, his Junior D would wake and demand to be fed as well.”
“Good grief, you named them the Double D as well?” She giggled, then quickly stilled as he shifted her closer, making her aware of the swelling of his cock.
Drake laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. The confusion and trust mingling in her eyes soothed his soul. Their Little was adapting far quicker than anticipated, and he couldn’t be more pleased.
That she had chosen him, the strict, punishing Daddy, to seek comfort from in the dark of night only cemented his certainty that she was meant to be theirs.