Page 34 of Integrated (Mistress & Master of Restraint #11)

“Honeys, we’re home!” Cort calls out as we enter our living room. Aaron and Kayla are spooning on our sofa, trying to get some much-needed rest, since they were no doubt up all night, worrying about Katya and dealing with the kids.

It’s early morning yet, but the twins will wake any minute, which means we were just in time to relieve Aaron and Kayla.

“Sorry about that.” I find myself apologizing again, but at least this time it’s because of Cortez’s asinine behavior. “I didn’t think we’d be gone all night.”

Kayla stretches, yawning wide. Her blouse exposes a slice of her belly, catching Aaron’s complete attention. “How’s Kat? Can she have visitors?” Sounding sleepy, she crawls from their nest on the sofa, leaving her pouting husband behind.

“Kat will be okay eventually. Go on to your rooms and get some rest before you pay her a visit. You must be exhausted.” The young woman is swaying on her feet, while Aaron wears a hungry expression. They need privacy. ASAP.

Turning over a new leaf, Aaron and Kayla are on my long to-do list. They need privacy. They need to live their own lives without having to shadow me. They’re our family, Shadow Haven is their home, and they deserve space to create their own tiny family.

“How are the monsters?” Dead on his feet, Cort slumps against the wall, rolling his neck to longingly stare at the staircase ascending upstairs, where he probably wants to crawl into bed and never leave.

“All three of them are curled around each other in your bed, snug as a bug. Ava was sullen and shaken earlier.” Aaron answers over his shoulder as he steps out into the foyer. “Ava was wearing the same exact expression you’re wearing right now.” Aaron has a laugh at my expense.

“I’m so sick to death of looking at that puss sporting remorse, I could puke.” Roarke steps in from the front door, having returned to the hospital about an hour ago.

Wil let Roarke into Katya’s hospital room without issue. He was allowed to brush Kat’s hair off her forehead and give her a small kiss to the cheek, being the best uncle he could be.

I was the evil, unwanted presence Wil was trying to keep out of Katya’s room.

“I’m going to go put myself into a food coma and catch up on a few episodes of Animal Kingdom. Gotta find out what those Cody boys have been up to lately. Smurf is my kinda mother. Sleep well, Beautiful,” he whispers to Kayla, kissing her rosy cheek.

That kiss is nothing like the familial one Roarke gave Katya, and it has me wondering if Roarke has been doing more than just buying sex.

“Hey, bro!” Releasing a burst of naughty chuckles, Aaron pretends to be insulted. “Don’t go hitting on my wife.”

“I ain’t hitting on your wife, Aaron.” Raising an eyebrow, lips twitching, Roarke embarrasses the hell out of the married couple. “Just telling it like I see it, is all… and all I see is beauty.” Roarke lays on the charm thick enough to make me blush for Kayla. “Plus, I don’t have to hit on your woman, you know how to share.”

Walking backward towards the kitchen, wearing a shit-eating grin, Roarke challenges Aaron to deny the claim that he’s visited their bed. Often.

“I–”

“Don’t bother,” Cort grumbles, cutting a blushing Aaron off. “I’ve seen the action, and it was a good show.”

“Kayla!” Roarke shouts as he practically skips from the kitchen. After the sound of a few doors opening and closing, his voice precedes him. “You’re a Goddess among us mere mortals. If you had a sister, I’d marry her.”

Kayla blushes, laughs, then blushes some more as Roarke swaggers toward us carrying several dozen cookies and a gallon of vitamin D.

“Hey, fucktard– I want some of those.” Cort growls, gesturing to the cookies. “You’re eating them all up!”

“You’ll get a fat ass, chubby.” Roarke takes a huge gulp of milk straight from the jug. “Don’t leave the house without me,” he warns in parting. “Laters!”

Cortez pouts as he watches Roarke disappear through the door hidden beneath the main staircase leading to the basement, where Roarke’s apartments and our man cave is located. “No fair. I’m hungry. It’s breakfast time and they were homemade cookies.”

“No fear, Cookie Monster.” Kayla teases Cort, then lifts on her heels to peck his cheek with a kiss. “I hid three dozen in the pantry. The kids were upset, so we baked all night until they couldn’t keep their eyes open. The Jessups helped. Betsy taught us how to make Cheese Danish with black cherries– they’re for breakfast.”

“How’d Ava do around the Jessups?” I ask as Cort dreamily stares toward the kitchen with his mouth hanging wide open, anticipating the sweets. “It’s been seven months since she had that type of interactions, and she didn’t treat Aubrianna well at the meeting.”

“I loved them,” Kayla gushes. “The Jessups are hard to have an attitude around and be pouty, even for teenage girls. Betsy reminds me so much of my grandmother. Stephanie’s super friendly, and boy does she knows how to cook. Mom and daughter make a great team– one teaches the sweets and one teaches the savory. Luc didn’t want to bake, so he sat and carved little figurines out of blocks of wood for the twins.”

“Ava and Aubrianna?” I prompt, knowing that won’t end well. Two teenage girls in an enclosed space, when one is highly volatile and the other takes no shit.

“Ava didn’t get along with the granddaughter at all. She was already acting sullen. There was a lot of flour accidently-on-purpose being flung around, and a whole lot of, ‘ don’t call me Aubrianna, I’m Jesse. ’ Which resulted in a lot of Aubriannas being tossed out in an irritating tone, causing Jesse to hiss the word bitch about a dozen times. Yeah, baking was fun– teenaged girls, not so much.”

“Ava was giving it back to Aubrianna for how she introduced herself to Zane.” Cort chuckles, eyes still on the kitchen entryway, terrified hungry Cookie Monsters will come out of the woodwork and steal his treats. “We all know that phrase well, so when she called herself Aubrianna, not Jesse, Ava got her feathers ruffled.”

“Lovely,” is grumbled as I contemplate how I’m going to handle my daughter.

“Good luck with that, Ez.” Aaron snorts, trying hard not to laugh outright. “I’ll see ya in a few hours. Gotta get my girl in bed for a nap.” Nap? Sure. After Aaron gets his rocks off, perhaps. Aaron is craving his wife more than Cort is those sweets, judging by the obscene bulge in his pants. “Thank goodness Kayla’s boss is understanding.”

“It’s a holiday– Edge is closed until after the New Year.” Cort mutters, so focused on the kitchen the joke goes right over his head.

“No fear, Ez.” Kayla reassures me as she stands on her tippy toes to give me a tender kiss to my cheek. I bend down, enjoying the affection. “Betsy is like any grandmother who has been around many a teenager. Jesse is a tough broad, her mother too, and Lucian has Ava’s number. I’d say he wasn’t impressed, kept calling Ava Little Girl and that was the friendliest of the nicknames.”

“Luc’s a good kid– he let me play with the snow blower a few days ago,” Cort mumbles absent-mindedly, not truly paying attention to the conversation. “Go get off– that crotch of yours is distracting… I gotta check on our kids.” Cort’s feet propel him toward the staircase, but his eyes are still pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

“Take the next few days off,” I tell Aaron as I start after Cortez. “It’s the holidays– just enjoy each other’s company. If we need to leave the kids, we’ll have Betsy whip ‘em into shape. Roarke doesn’t have a life anyway– he’s worse than a barnacle stuck to my ass. See ya later.”

“Aye, aye, Boss,” flows from behind me as Aaron and Kayla head down the hallway toward the old servants’ quarters, where their renovated apartment is located.

“You’re just checking on the kids, so you can attack the baked goods, aren’t you? I’ve got your number, mister.” I tease Cortez as I stalk him up the stairs.

“I do not have a fat ass,” Cort grumbles, looking over his shoulder at me.

“Huh?” I grunt as my eyes flick to the two perfect globes of Cortez’s ass, flexing as he ascends the staircase. Now that sight makes my mouth water. A moan spills as I try to get my cock not to stiffen.

“I can feel you staring at my ass,” Cort self-consciously murmurs as he reaches our closed bedroom door. “Aaron and Roarke are always judging me. I’m not fat.”

“Eat all ya want,” I honestly answer. “If you get fat, I won’t give a shit. Just know that if your ass jiggles, I’ll be spanking it.” I reach around Cort to quickly tap his ass with my good palm. I just barely stop myself from squeezing his cheek. “It will give me an endless amount of lust-filled entertainment.” My lips twist up at the corners, then instantly droop when Cort doesn’t join me.

Frowning back at me, Cort asks, “You’re teasing, right?” His insecurities are showing, and it kills me to see him so down on himself.

“No, actually. I’m not.” I reach out to cup Cortez’s whisker-stubbled cheek. “I just want you to be happy. Truly. Roarke and Aaron are only dicking with ya. They’re like prey animals scenting a weakness. It’s your insecurity their homing in on, not that they actually think you’re fat. You’re a gorgeous man, Cortez Julian Hunter, and I think you are hotter than hell.”

“Honest?” Cort asks, his tone a mixture of pouting and begging, and it’s so dang cute I positively melt. “I-I-I know girls think I’m charming, but I don’t want girls to want me. I’m out of my element when it comes to guys. I’m good looking to a guy, right? You’re being honest?”

Why do I find Cort’s insecurities so endearing and adorable? But what hits me the hardest is how he’s worried guys won’t want him, which means he’s completely and thoroughly wanting guys to want him.

“Honest.” I run an appreciative eye over Cortez’s perfect body, eyes lingering on the exquisite bulge any man would be honored to enjoy. “I’m waiting for my hard-on to deflate before I enter our bedroom to check on the kids, ‘cuz that seems really icky.”

Blushing a gorgeous shade of pink, eyes dancing with suppressed laughter, Cortez warms my world, and I fall more in love with him by the second. “Not too icky, since they wouldn’t exist without us getting a hard-on in the first place.”

Cort finally gives in, flashing me that smile worth everything. Then he opens our bedroom door, and my world is complete.

Our children take my breath away. I cannot believe we created human beings just by having sex. As a doctor, I always marvel over conception and genetics, watching our traits come out within our children. It’s a subject Daniel and I engage in often.

They make me believe in miracles.

Tangled in our blankets, Ava is curled around the twins, who are fused to each like they’re still in their mother’s womb. Releasing a soft, nearly silent laugh, as to not wake the children, I love how Azrael sleeps just like her daddy, sheet twisted around her chubby thigh while sawing logs.

Nibbling on a couple of pink tootsies to get Az to wiggle around, I feel better than I have in weeks. “I think our daughter is going to have a foot fetish.” I relentlessly tease Cort, just because I can. “She’s always asking random strangers to rub her feet.”

Rolling my eyes up while leaning over our bed, I witness Cortez smile blindingly down at our children. “They make my heart ache.” Cort breathes the words out as his fingertips feather through Marcus Zane’s baby fine hair, just as our son adores. “No matter if they are naughty or not, I just love them. I don’t think there is such a thing as a hair fetish, do you?”

“Nah, our little guy is going to be a phrenologist,” is murmured as I unravel the blankets. Then I cover the kids back up, tucking in the edges.

Hopefully they will sleep for a few more hours, giving Cort and me time to decompress before having to be on top of our game. We’re already emotionally spent– sometimes it’s hard to be on with the kids, when we’d rather go hide beneath the covers ourselves.

“Huh? What the hell is a phrenologist?”

“A doctor who specializes in the bumps and divots on the skull.” I shrug, trying not to laugh and wake the kids. “But I think Marcus Zane will be a hairdresser instead.”

“Well, that will be great, since Azrael will be giving pedicures in the same salon.” Cort mutters dryly, causing me to burst out laughing.

“Daddy?” Groggy, Ava stretches, thankfully not waking the twins. “What time is it?”

“Oops,” is whispered as my palm flies up to my lips, attempting to smother any more laughter. “We woke the sleeping dragon. Ava will bite our heads off for ruining her beauty sleep.”

“Eh, she’s snoring again already. Let’s hurry up and give out kisses, ‘cuz baked goods are calling my name. Don’t you hear that Danish’s siren song? “ Cortez, come eat us. We’re delicious. We’ll fatten your ass so it’s spank-a-licious. ”

“Ah, you fancy yourself a naughty bard now, do ya?” Smirking at Cortez, I wish our children were in their own beds, so I could use the surface to show Cort just how spankable his perfect ass already is.

“Aye, I can write me a dirty limerick as good as the next guy. But no one is as good as Grant. Seriously, he’s epic.”

“Ava,” I whisper in my daughter’s ear, purposely breathing on her because it annoys the piss out of her. “I’m giving you a pass this morning, because you were up all night worried about your mother. But from now on, you’ll have to be up and around by six a.m. every morning to help out with the Jessups. Sleep well, my precious monster. Daddy loves you.”

Raining kisses on Ava’s cheeks and forehead, I dodge the flailing arm that’s trying to make me stop. The girl hates affection. She can’t stand anyone in her personal space, so I make sure I go overboard just to aggravate her.

“Dad!” Ava groans in protest as I blow a raspberry on her cheek. “I love you too. Now stop and go away, before Cort starves to death. I hear his stomach growling.”

“Well played, daughter,” is muttered in appreciation, causing her to giggle. “Breakfast it is. Sleep as long as ya want. But I’m not kidding, you’ll be awake at this time tomorrow morning.”

“Fantastic,” sarcastically flows as Ava buries her head beneath the blankets.

“Hey, you get back here!” I whisper shout at Cort as he hightails it out of our bedroom. “You sure can book it when food is involved.” I softly close our door, then stride to catch up with Cortez.

“I’m starving,” Cort says over his shoulder as he descends the steps two at a time. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. You’re neglecting me.”

“Bullshitter,” I taunt. “That kiss you gave me in the hospital parking lot suspiciously tasted like a Snickers bar with a Dr. Pepper chaser.”

“It was just a snack,” Cort shamelessly admits as he finds the container of cookies in the pantry, hugging it like a lover. “Wil didn’t neglect me– he fed me from the vending machine.”

Growling to myself, I hate how Wil always anticipates all of Cort’s needs. I start pulling every bit of junk food I can find from the pantry, then I drop the whole lot of it on the breakfast table.

“I guess I’m going to become an emotional eater now too.” Arms spread wide, I gesture at the loot I procured for Cort.

“Unlike you, with your cerebral fetish, I need visual stimulation.” Cort’s eyes are fused in the general vicinity of my sculped abs, as if he can see through my shirt to the flesh beneath. “You get fat, then I’m gonna need some hot porn to get me in the mood.” Cort mutters while dissecting a cookie to figure out how to replicate it later– I see four different kinds of bits and coconut too.

Cort is taking his new role as caregiver seriously.

I’m proud of the man– proud on every level.

“Well, I’ve learned my lesson. I’m not allowed to use insanity as a crutch. Right about now, I miss Master Ez and Ezra taking all the blame, guilt, and shame off my shoulders. I’m practically suffocating on my past evil deeds.”

“Ezra.” Cort longs to defend me, but he can’t, so he goes back to dissecting cookies.

“You told me I’m not allowed to self-punish anymore by using my OCD rituals. So that only leaves food and sex, and you’re hungry right now. I’ll get my exercise through the hot sex we’ll be having in about twenty minutes.”

“Shower sex?” Eager, Cort perks up, eyes glowing with lust. “I want you to brutalize me this time… I’m suddenly not hungry anymore.” Moving to get up from the table, Cort eyes me like a predator.

“Slow down, sexy.” I reach over to push Cort back into his chair. His nostrils flare, pupils eclipsing the gray irises– Cort gets a high off being dominated. “Our kids are in the room where the shower is located, remember? Might as well eat while we wait for them to vacate our love nest.”

“Ah, shit!” Cort practically collapses to the tabletop. “I guess I could eat.” He says this like it’s a great hardship, all the while taking a huge bite out of a cookie.

“I love you.” I blurt out, struck by the normalcy of our lives and how much I need normal right now. “I’m sorry.”

“Ez!” Cort growls at me. “Stop apologizing. We know you’re sorry ,” he stresses. “That’s why we keep telling you to knock it off. We all love you so much, we don’t want you to hurt for a second. You need to look in a mirror.” Frustrated, Cort gestures across the kitchen. “Hell, go look at your reflection in the surface of the refrigerator. You look like you’re about to open a vein and bleed out for us. We get it, okay? Now shut up and eat.”

“Yes, sir,” is muttered wryly as I shake a pile of Kettle Cooked potato chips onto the tabletop. I’m a simple guy– I love plain chips and sugar cookies, especially at the same time.

“I love you too.” Cort vows, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “If you want to make me happy, just be happy. That’s all. Now why are you eating chips for breakfast when there are perfectly tasty Danishes right here?” Using a fingertip, Cort pushes a plate of pastries toward me, like he’s a drug dealer trying to get me hooked.

“If I have sugar, I need salt.” I explain my madness, surprised Cort never noticed before now. “It makes the flavors burst on my tongue. So it’s chips and pastry.” I reach over to pop the tab on a Coke. “If I have salt, I need soda. That’s why I said I’d be an excellent candidate for emotional eating. I’m not fat because I exercise constantly. You don’t eat as much as me, but you’re inactive, that’s the only difference.”

“Hmm,” Cort murmurs as he reluctantly places a chip on a chunk of cookie, then pops it into his mouth. “Oh!” he purrs, eyes suddenly heavily lidded. “I think I just came in my pants. Delicious.”

“I’ll be sure to hide the chocolate-covered potato chips from your ass. We wouldn’t want it to get fat, now would we?” flows in a teasing lilt. “I might lose my job, because I’d spend every waking moment spanking you.”

“They make those?” Cort looks flushed, slightly high off all the sugar he’s consumed in the past few minutes. “Dang.”

“You do realize there’s more than one bathroom in this house, right?” I slowly speak as I push away from the table.

“Oh, God!” Eyes popping wide, Cort is getting more flushed by the heartbeat.

“You better run, Mr. Hunter.” I warn a split-second before I lunge.

Sprinting from the kitchen, Cort shouts back at me. “Grab the chocolate sauce, dummy– you’ll need something sweet to burst the flavor of my salty balls on your taste buds.”

“I love my twit.” I mutter to myself, silently laughing. Only pausing long enough to grab the Hershey’s from the refrigerator, before I run Cort to ground in the guest bath.