Page 46

THIRTY-SEVEN

DANIEL

“You’re sure you know how to cook?” Balanced on the stool beside me, Oliver gives me a wary look.

I angle in so we’re eye to eye. “It’s pie. How hard could it be?”

I survey the Oreos laid out in front of us.

“Have at it.”

“If you say so.” He raises the hammer over his head and brings it down in one quick swish.

I almost lose a finger as I reach in to stop him before he smashes the granite counter into pieces. “Jesus, kid. You’ve got to be ducking kidding me.”

Frowning, he tilts his head. “Ducking?”

Dammit, Hall . I exhale a loud breath. “Don’t tell your aunt I said that.”

“Ducking? What’s wrong with ducks?”

I shake my head. If the kid hasn’t figured out what that’s a substitute for, I’m not about to tell him. Jeez, maybe this dad thing is harder than I thought.

I spin the hammer and tap it against the cookies, making them crumble into big pieces. “Can you do it like this?”

He shrugs. “Pretty sure Hannah will be home before we finish the cake if we do it like that.”

This kid. He’s always got a comment. I like it. He’s smarter than any four-year-old I’ve ever met. And while they aren’t blood, he’ll be my kid’s cousin. An older boy to look up to and learn from.

“It’s pie, not cake.”

Hannah doesn’t like cake. She mentioned it at dinner in Vermont. It’s the consistency. She prefers creamy things. Yeah, you heard that right, and of course I went there the second the words registered. She laughed her ass off, because she and I have the same sense of humor.

I scan the recipe on my phone, double-checking that I have all the ingredients.

A little banner appears at the top of the screen, a text from Camden, and instantly I grind my teeth.

Camden: If the rumors I’m hearing are true, the gods will be back together in no time.

“Put them in a plastic bag before you smash them.”

At the sound of Noah’s voice, I snap my head up, ignoring whatever Camden is hinting at.

Noah strides into the kitchen wearing nothing but a damn towel.

Already on edge, I can’t stop a growl from sneaking out. “We’ve been over this.”

Noah shakes his head. “She’s like my sister.”

“ Like your sister. Not really your sister. And you are naked.”

Though he’s a good decade older than me, he’s in incredible shape. I’m not generally a jealous guy, and I know what I bring to the table, but I’m not an idiot. The last thing I want is a naked hockey player— like a brother or not—walking around my girl’s apartment .

“She told me about your brother ducker comment,” he says under his breath.

I glare at him. “It was a perfectly reasonable reaction when I discovered you were living here.”

Side-eyeing me, he pops an Oreo into his mouth. “So ducking good,” he mumbles.

“Why do you guys keep talking like barn animals?” Oliver asks, head tipped back so he can see his dad. “Mommy always says we don’t live in a barn.”

Noah barks out a laugh while I dump the Oreos into a Ziplock bag.

“You’re making her favorite pie.” Noah hums in approval.

My chest expands with pride, but outwardly, I play it cool and lift a shoulder. “She doesn’t like cake.”

“And you know that how?”

I squeeze the bag, pulverizing the Oreos. “Because I listen.”

With a grin, he holds a fist out to Oliver. “Hear that, buddy? Always listen.” He spins on his heel and heads toward his room. “All right, I’m going to get dressed, and then I’ll come help you.”

“Who says I need your help?” I call.

“You almost let my kid take a hammer to Hannah’s counter, and the oven’s on fire,” Noah yells.

I whip around, heart plummeting, to discover the oven isn’t even on.

Oliver points at me, eyes dancing. “Made you look!”

I cough out a laugh. Yeah, having a son will be cool.

“Baby, I’m home.” Hannah breezes into her apartment, absolutely glowing. She spent the afternoon with the girls at the spa, and we’re meeting the whole crew for dinner in an hour.

I scan the kitchen one more time, making sure I’ve gotten rid of all the evidence from our pie-making activities.

Noah took Oliver to Jen’s and will meet us at the restaurant. With any luck, he’ll meet someone at the bar and go home with them so we have the place to ourselves. Though I doubt it, since I’ve yet to see the guy even flirt with a woman, let alone go home with one. We’ve got to work on that.

I hold out my arms, and Hannah sinks into them. “How’s my birthday girl doing?”

“Perfect. We went shopping after the spa.” She props her chin on my chest and smiles up at me.

My whole being lights up. There’s nothing better than having her attention. Than having the ability to hold her and know this is exactly where she wants to be.

“Oh yeah? Get something pretty to wear to dinner?”

“Nope. I got something pretty for you to wear to dinner.”

Nerves skitter down my spine. Knowing Hannah, I have every right to be concerned.

“Want to see it?” she asks, her teasing tone confirming my suspicions. Eyes sparkling, she pulls back.

I follow her into the living room and find her holding up a tiny black plastic shopping bag.

“Nothing that small will fit me, babe.” I chuckle as I approach.

She arches a brow. “Wanna bet?”

No.

That’s what I should say.

Better yet, fuck no.

But this woman is pregnant with my child, and it’s her birthday. Even if it wasn’t, I’d do just about anything for her. She could tell me to punch myself in the face for her own enjoyment, and I’d do it. I live for her smiles.

Hands in my pockets, I sigh. “Sure.”

The way her pretty blue eyes light up has my mood lifting. It’s unreal, the way her joy feeds mine. I never knew it was possible to be this happy.

As slowly as she can, she pulls out a rubbery blue ring.

Head tilted, I frown. “What is that?”

“It’s a vibrating cock ring.” She twirls it around her finger. “It’s charged up and all ready for you.”

My dick jumps. “What do we do with it?”

“You’re going to wear it to dinner and”—she leans closer, brows raised—“you’re not going to come.”

The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. “Hannah, I’m crazy about you, but I’m not wearing that to dinner with our friends.” I cross my arms, hoping like hell she’ll back down but knowing better.

She pouts.

I shake my head.

She tosses it to me, and as I catch it, I growl out another no.

Ignoring me, she struts toward our bedroom. “I’ve got to get the computer set up. I’ve got a call scheduled with my parents. You want to say hi?”

I stare down at the vibrating toy for another second before I shove it into my pocket.

Five minutes later, we sit side by side on the couch. One by one, little boxes on the screen appear, each filled with the face of a man near my dad’s age. Liam has been here more than once, hanging out with Oliver and Noah when I’m here, but this is the first time I’m meeting the other dads.

“Happy birthday.” The first man to speak has dark hair and looks just like Ash.

“Thank you.”

The others echo the same sentiment, but quickly, every eye is on me.

“I was going to wait for mom before doing introductions, but who knows where she is.” Hannah lets out a tight laugh and glances down at the phone in her lap, where she’s typed out a reminder message to her mother.

My stomach sinks. From here, I don’t see a happy birthday message in the chain of recent texts. I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume it’s because she called Hannah instead.

“This is Daniel,” she says, straightening. “Daniel, these are my dads, Pierce?—”

The man who looks like Ash waves at me.

“Ryot.”

A well-groomed guy in a suit nods.

“Bryce.”

This guy is in a suit too.

“And you already know Liam.”

Liam smiles. “How’d your afternoon with Ollie go?”

I grin. “We accomplished what we set out to do.”

Hannah shifts to face me, but I keep my focus fixed on the screen.

“It’s nice to meet the rest of you.”

Ryot—the lawyer, I think—eyes me. “I’ll be in town next month. We can discuss the custody arrangements then.”

Hannah flinches. “That’s— no .” She drops a hand to my thigh and squeezes. “We don’t need any agreement. We’re together, and we’ll figure this out together.”

Though she’s clearly worried Ryot has upset me, I’m actually ecstatic that she has people in her life who care enough about her to give me shit.

“Hannah and our son mean the world to me. Anything she wants, she’s got.”

“That’s what everyone says before?—”

Liam clears his throat. “Ryot, don’t forget we promised Hannah we wouldn’t let our divorces affect her.”

“I’m protecting her,” Ryot mutters.

Bryce nods. “I agree with him. There should be formal documentation.”

I lean forward, unbothered. “Type it up. As long as it’s what she wants, I’ll sign it. But it won’t matter. We’re not breaking up, and there isn’t a scenario where I won’t provide everything she and our son want or need. But if it makes you feel more comfortable to put that in writing?—”

“It does,” Ryot presses.

I shrug. “Then fine.”

“No,” Hannah grits out.

“Han.” I scoot closer to the edge of the couch and turn her way. “I’m not worried.”

“Neither am I.” She assesses her dads, her expression stony. “I love him and he loves me, but even if that weren’t the case, I know he loves our child and he’ll always do the right thing.”

My heart cracks open and love pours out, filling me to the brim. She’s sticking up for me. For us. And it only deepens what I feel for her.

I’m ready to end the damn Zoom call and drag her into the bedroom when Liam holds up his phone and gives it a shake.

“Your mom says she has spotty service so she can’t hop on the call but she wishes you a happy birthday.”

Hannah’s attention drops to her lap, where she hasn’t received a response from her mother. She doesn’t want me to hate her mother, but the woman makes keeping that promise pretty damn hard.

My girl plasters on a smile and shifts the conversation, launching into detail about how we want to decorate the nursery. Every one of the guys stays engaged for the next twenty minutes. They clearly love her.

But despite her smiles, she can’t hide the hurt from me.

I’d do anything to make her feel better, so the moment she shuts the computer, I pull out the cock ring and dangle it between us.

“Dude, why do you have so many ones in your wallet?” War asks Noah as he sets the wallet on the table at dinner.

Noah shrugs but Aiden’s the one who answers. “Maybe it’s a thing. Don’t point out people’s things.”

“It’s not a thing.” Noah grunts.

“It’s definitely a thing,” Hannah sings. “He checks every dollar that is handed to him. No idea why though.” Noah glares at Hannah but she simply shrugs. “I just speak the truth.”

“You do do that,” Brooks agrees. “Every time we go to the bar you have them break a twenty and ask for ones.”

“You secretly stripping?” Sara teases from beside her man.

I can barely focus on the conversation because of what Hannah is doing to me.

“Why the fuck do you keep moving around?” War grumbles, turning his head and staring me down.

On my other side, Hannah does a shit job at tamping down on the giggles.

I glare at her, then, focusing on breathing steadily, turn back to War. “Just can’t get comfortable. Tell us more about those dollars, Harry.”

I’ll do anything to get the focus off me because Hannah is using a fucking remote control to change the strength and speed of the cock ring’s vibrations, and it’s pure torture. My dick has been painfully hard since she sat down.

When she turns it up as I’m bringing my first bite of steak to my mouth, I growl. “If you want me to last later, I need to eat.”

War chokes on his drink and slams the glass onto the table. “Aw, is Baby Hall having a hard time keeping it up?”

I shove him so hard his chair tips. Fortunately, it goes backward. If I’d made him bump into Ava, he would have beaten the shit out of me.

“I’m not having a hard time with anything,” I say through gritted teeth.

Hannah rubs my back, and I shudder. Just her touch sends tingles up my spine. I grimace and inhale deeply through my nose, trying not to explode in my pants.

“Daniel is learning how to have multiple orgasms without ejaculating.” Hannah breaks into a devilish smirk.

Eyes closed, I shake my head. This conversation is going to go off the rails now. I’m not the least bit ashamed of it. Hell, I used to tell the guys all about Calliope’s column. But in the middle of dinner with all of our closest friends and my girlfriend’s goddamn brother? With a cock ring vibrating my dick?

Yeah, even saying that sentence back in my head makes me say what the fuck?

“What the fuck is the point if you don’t ejaculate?” War demands.

I swear to god the entire restaurant goes silent.

Down the table, Lennox and Sara perk up.

“What now?” Sara asks.

“Tyler,” Ava hisses, her cheeks a bright shade of red. “Do not say ejaculate.”

He smirks at his wife. “Yeah, scratch at me, Vicious. You know I love it when you get angry.”

Poor Ava sighs and shakes her head. “I’m eight months pregnant. What more could you want with me?”

He looks directly into my eyes, his blue irises icy. “I want to fill you with my cum. Because that’s what I do when we have sex. I ejaculate.”

My body shudders so violently I almost fall off my chair. Swallowing back bile, I steady myself. “Don’t look at me when you say those words.”

Holy fucking shit. Did I die? Am I in hell?

The pressure in my dick immediately deflates a fraction, and for a second, I’m actually almost thankful for the man beside me. The one I’ll never look in the eye again. Because for the first time in a solid forty minutes, I feel relief.

That sensation vanishes quickly, though, when Hannah laughs in my ear and sets the toy to a pulse setting.

Back to rock fucking hard, I groan and drop my head against hers. I’m losing the battle here. And her fucking smell doesn’t help. Neither does the way I know she’ll taste. “Fuck,” I curse as I squeeze my eyes tight, fighting the impending disaster with everything I’ve got.

“Oh my god!” Sara slams a hand to the table, making all the cutlery rattle. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

You can say that again. I’m focused so intently on my dick I can’t speak.

The pulsing stops. The vibrating stops. Fuck. Also, thank the hockey gods I didn’t just come in my pants.

“What?” I think that’s Lennox responding. My brain is too scattered to be sure.

“He’s wearing it, isn’t he?” Sara shouts.

My eyes snap open.

“Oh my god. You totally are, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about, crazy girl?” Brooks squeezes her shoulder to center her. The girl needs that type of grounding every once in a while.

Lennox snorts. “He’s not.”

Noah frowns, his focus fixed on me. “What’s she talking about?”

Hannah opens her mouth, but before she can speak, I slap a hand over it and bring my mouth to her ear. “I love you, baby, but if you tell your brother I’m wearing a goddamn cock ring right now, I’ll kill you.”

The table erupts in laughter and questions while I beg the floor beneath me to open up and swallow me whole.

Fuck. My. Life.

Four hours. Four fucking hours. She’s had me locked in her bedroom, chained to the bed, fucking me through one orgasm after another. I never thought I’d wish a sexual encounter was over. Never thought I’d be seeking the sweet relief of this pie right now, but fuck, my dick hurts.

I stare at it, really stare at it, and consider what I’m so damn tempted to do.

It’s Hannah’s birthday pie. This could be grounds for murder.

She deserves this chocolate cream pie.

She’s having my baby.

She’s having my baby, and she deserves this pie.

Oliver and I made this pie together.

It’s probably fucking delicious.

But my dick hurts, and it looks so soothing. It’s cold but not too cold. The inside is probably soft. It’ll swallow my dick in a perfect hug. The kind of hug Hannah used to give me with her perfect pussy. Before she became this sex-crazed demon. The mother of my child is insatiable, and my dick hurts.

Every time I’ve seen her over the last three weeks, she’s immediately jumped me. If I’m not traveling or playing hockey, she’s riding me. For the first few days, I was certain I’d died and gone to a horny man’s heaven. Hannah loves me and I love her. We’re having a kid together. I love sex. She loves sex. We’re both really good at sex. Win-win-win-win-win.

Head hung, I frown at my poor dick. It’s tired. I’m tired. I just need a little relief.

There’s no way in hell I’ll tell the woman who is carrying my child that I can’t fuck her. That if she slides down on my dick one more time, I’ll cry.

I just want Hannah to be happy. We’ve been so happy.

But…I’m in pain.

Wincing, I step toward the pie.

This is so wrong.

I peer over my shoulder. She’s asleep.

Oliver’s at his moms.

Noah went to the bar after dinner. I think he’s still out.

No one will know.

It’s like this was meant to be. She doesn’t even know about the pie since she dragged me into the bedroom the second we returned from her birthday dinner. I’ll get up early and make another one.

But for now I’m desperate for relief.

Fuck it.

I unzip my pants, and with one last look over my shoulder, I let them fall to the ground. Butt-ass naked in the kitchen, I reach for the tin pan. The whipped cream winky-face I added mocks me.

Yeah, motherfucker, I’m about to destroy you.

Without another second’s hesitation, I slam it to my groin.

“ Ahh .” The groan comes from deep inside my chest. Fuck. This is the most soothing sensation I’ve ever experienced. “God, yes.” It feels incredible. So good I can’t help but clench my ass cheeks and thrust, making sure to totally submerge my raw dick in the cool cream.

“Okay, I’ve put up with the loud-as-shit fucking?—”

Lungs seizing, I spin, because what the fuck is wrong with me? And now I’m holding a tin pan to my dick, pants at my ankles, as I stare at my girlfriend’s brother.

Noah’s eyes bore into mine, his lip curled in disgust. “I even sat across from you at dinner while you did kinky shit with her and a cock ring, and I kept my mouth shut, but I have to draw the fucking line?—”

“It’s not what it looks like.” The words are a little higher pitched than I meant for them to be. Fuck. I sound pathetic, even to my own ears.

“You’re cheating on Hannah with a chocolate cream pie?”

“Okay.” Shoulders slumping, I whimper. “It’s exactly what it looks like, but you don’t get it.”

He drops his head to his hands. “Have some fucking respect for yourself and at least turn away from me, man.”

“You’re right,” I say meekly, shuffling toward the counter, pants at my ankles.

“Oh, fuck. Now I can see your hairy ass.”

“I don’t have a hairy ass.” Chin to my shoulder, I peek down, but damn, it’s a challenge to see one’s own ass. “I don’t think. Do I?” I glance up at him and shake my head. “Don’t answer that.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He stalks past me, heading for his bedroom.

Shit. He probably thinks I’m a lunatic. Is he going to tell her?

I hop after him, holding extra tight to the pie tin so it doesn’t fall. “She’s just so horny. Always so horny.”

“Stop talking.” He slams the door in my face.

Dropping my forehead to it, I croak out an “I’m sorry!”

“You need help!” he hollers. “Be a man and tell Hannah to give you a break.”

I straighten and shake my head. Nah, I’ll just soak my dick for a little longer. And then I’ll make another pie.