Page 18 of Their Little Helper (The Lactin Brotherhood #22)

SANTOS

Orgasm meant relaxed.

Relaxed meant little.

Got it.

Even Dally seemed to have connected the dots because he started mumbling about one orgasm instead of two. I think we were both starting to understand why Harley hadn’t thought aiming for more than one orgasm made any sense at all.

We definitely weren’t going to be able to see how many times in a night we could make him come…

oh…and we might need to make sure he came later in our games next time.

He didn’t seem to mind his descent into his little headspace while we were…

finishing up our games…but I knew at some point we’d need a longer conversation on the topic.

“I got matching cups and pajamas.” Because matching made me happy and I wasn’t going to apologize about that. “They’ve all got cute animals on them but we can pick out more for the future. You’ll need more than one pair of jammies over here.”

That had Harley lighting up like it was Christmas. “I like picking out jammies.”

He seemed to like shopping in general based on how excited he got.

“Perfect.” Kissing his head as Dally finished climbing off the bed, I tried to keep us on track. “We’ll look at those later. I don’t mind if we do a sleepover but we need to make sure Dally can stay too.”

I wasn’t sure we were at the point where a two-person sleepover would be a good idea.

I loved the idea of having Harley stay over, little or not, but I didn’t want Dally to feel left out or like a third wheel.

“I can sleepover but I’ll need to get up early.” Dally scrunched up his face as he got off the bed. “Sticky is the only bad part of playtime. Early. Yes. I have a wedding so it’s going to be a long day.”

Harley giggled. “No getting married yet, Daddy. We haven’t met your mommy.”

I managed not to roll my eyes but Dally laughed. “I’m helping to cater it, silly goose. You’re right, though. Meet the family comes before wedding bells or my mother will kill me.”

I was not going to talk about weddings until after we were living together and had proven we wouldn’t kill each other. So ignoring the discussion was the only sensible option that wouldn’t encourage Dally. “That’s fine. We’ll make sure to head to bed early and we’ll set an alarm.”

Worst-case scenario, I got a session in at the gym before getting some work done.

Harley nodded along, still smiling over how silly the talk of weddings seemed to be. “I don’t got to work ’til later. I have to write down all the stuff.”

That seemed to mean some kind of paperwork, so I nodded and forced myself to sit up. “Then we have a plan. How about you go with Daddy into the shower and I’ll order dinner? As long as we don’t get distracted it’ll be here when we’re getting out.”

“No distractions.” Dally’s wagging finger and exaggerated frown made Harley giggle and I lost control of my eyes, so they rolled before I could stop them. “We’ve got our boy to take care of.”

“Daddy likes ’stractions.” Harley’s knowing giggle made it hard to keep a straight face. “But I’m hungry so no ’stractions.”

No shenanigans just because he needed to be fed?

“That’s right. Getting your Daddy unsticky and you a full tummy are the top priorities.” That meant getting everyone off the bed to start with. “Bathroom first. I’ll order and then I’ll come too.”

Harley nodded, rolling over and climbing carefully off the bed. “Take turns?”

Dally shrugged. “I don’t know. I have a feeling your Papa’s master bathroom will be big enough for all of us, though.”

Of course it would.

“People need space in bathrooms. There’s no point in making them tiny.” I hadn’t planned on multiple partners, but I’d wanted to make sure I wouldn’t crowd whoever I’d ended up with.

Harley’s giggle said he thought something about the whole thing was funny. “Papa’s big bathroom.”

Sighing, Dally nodded and took Harley’s hand. “Yep, it’s going to be ginormous and have weird stuff like a bidet.”

Our boy’s whole body shook with barely suppressed laugher. “That’s for tushies.”

They were ridiculous.

“There’s nothing wrong with cleanliness.” Especially with as much as Dally liked to bottom. “And I’m not going to apologize for having well-designed facilities.”

Their giggles continued as they went into the bathroom, but I ignored them as I dug my phone out of my pants and pulled up the delivery app I normally used.

I’d never ordered McDonald’s on it before but I ignored the real food options and requested enough toxic chemicals to make both of them happy… dipping sauces and all.

Someone had to make organic nuggets, so figuring that out also went on my mental to-do list…talking to Hanson about food options for little Harley also went on that list.

Was there a simple way to explain a grown man that sometimes had the palate of a five-year-old?

My first thoughts as I finished up the order all made him sound like he was sometimes incredibly picky and that was not the impression I wanted to give Hanson. He was a pain in the ass, but I wanted him to like Harley, especially since I was hoping he’d be around a lot.

Oh.

I needed to figure out a way to explain the new cups and the interesting new clothes that would be popping up in the laundry.

And the toys.

I couldn’t forget the books either.

Yes, Hanson and I were going to need to have a discussion or two, but for the time being, I was going to ignore those and hope I’d ordered enough nuggets for my hungry and adorable cutie.

“ I’m not going to do that .” Harley’s words were so low I didn’t hear him whispering until I got to the bathroom door. “ I’ll be the Papa, not the Daddy .”

What?

Dally’s snorted-out laughter said I didn’t need to worry but it didn’t make any sense. “You don’t have to use the bidet or bottom unless you want to, baby. But it’s not scary.”

“No.” Little Harley had a stubborn side that seemed to be peeking out. “Not gonna do that.”

Oh.

“Then you don’t have to.” From the sounds I heard, Dally kissed his cheek. “There are easier ways to keep a tushy clean enough for anyone to be the Daddy. Girls can be the Daddy too. People just forget that for some reason.”

“I hadn’t thought about that.” Harley’s slightly confused tone made me wonder what was going through his head. “Can they be the Papa?”

Little Harley asked the most interesting questions.

“Yes, but you gotta potty first and just forget about the bidet. Then we’ll get in the shower, as long as I can figure out how to turn it on.” Dally started mumbling something about rich people and gadgets, but I just stepped back from the doorway and walked in louder.

“I have dinner ordered.” Pretending not to have heard the original conversation unless they brought it up seemed to be the best idea. “How does everyone feel about a salad to go with the nuggets and burgers?”

Harley’s head popped out of the small toilet room, mid-stream if I was reading Dally’s frustrated groan right. “Salad?”

I really should’ve made that room bigger, but I didn’t let that distract me.

I knew he ate vegetables based on how many he’d put on his sandwich at lunch, but clearly something about my suggestion had gone wrong. “Finish going potty, sweet boy. We’ll worry about dinner when you’re done.”

“Okay, Papa.” Humming to himself, Harley’s head aimed back toward the toilet and made me wonder how they were both fitting in the small room.

I hadn’t designed it for two people in mind because that wasn’t one of my kinks.

“Good boy. Yes, almost done.” Dally’s conversation jumped right back to making sure we didn’t have a firehose problem around my toilet.

Harley on the other hand was still distracted. “If I eat salad, can I be the Daddy without the funny spray?”

If he ate enough fiber would he not have to clean out his ass before he bottomed?

“Rich people make everything harder than it needs to be.” Dally sighed and I heard a kissing sound again. “We’re going to figure out your favorite way to get clean without it being stressful. But yes, eating healthy things makes…well…it makes your tushy cleaner.”

“Then I’ll eat salad, Daddy.” He sounded slightly dramatic about that but I still wasn’t sure why.

I couldn’t decide how to ask either, so I just smiled as Harley wiggled out of the toilet room, somehow nearly knocking Dally into the bidet.

“Fucking hell.”

“Oops. Sorry, Daddy.”

Keeping a straight face made me the best Dom in the entire world.

“It’s okay. I didn’t think about that room needing to be big enough for two people.” I’d been thinking of saving space because how much room did anyone need to piss?

Clearly I should’ve used my imagination a bit better.

“I’m fine.” Dally technically sounded fine but he’d gone back to muttering about rich people again.

“Let’s wash your hands, sweetie.” I wasn’t sure how much help Dally had been but it seemed like a good idea either way. “Then we’ll get the water on.”

Nodding, Harley walked over to the sink and held his hands out for me. “Daddy’s sticky.”

Considering he’d shut the door to the small room, I was guessing I understood what sticky meant in that particular context. “But he had fun, so it’s okay to be messy.”

I’d never had a conversation like it before, but I understood why little Harley was the one to approach the situation.

“But if you want to be the Daddy and don’t want to get sticky, I’ll just wear…” Fuck it all. “I’ll wear a condom and that will help the sticky situation.”

That got a giggle from Harley but he didn’t lose the headspace he’d sunk into. “It’s a situation.”

“Damned right.” Dally’s helpful commentary wasn’t as helpful as he thought it was. “But I like being messy.”

Just not sticky.

I was going to end up having the most interesting conversations with them.

“But the point you need to remember is that no one does anything that they don’t want to.” Running my hand over his head, I smiled when he giggled. “When it comes to things related to stickies and bed games.”

That got an adorable snicker from Harley but he didn’t seem to be worried about it any longer. “Limits. I ’member.”