by L. A. Casey
“For now, yeah.”
He relaxed, then went back to eating his breakfast.
“What time is your game?”
“Eleven,” Quinn and Griffin replied in unison.
“Is Mom taking you guys?”
Quinn’s lips twitched. “She said you could either take us, or ye’ could go and get the shoppin’ instead.”
I paused. “Grocery shopping?”
Quinn nodded, then smiled at my horrified expression. I never did the grocery shopping. The one and only time I’d done it in the past was an utter disaster. I apparently got the wrong brand of half of the groceries on Bronagh’s list and forgot the rest. She had to go back to the store and get the correct stuff, which put her in a pissy mood for that entire day. It was a horrible experience from start to finish, and I’d do just about anything to get out of it. My kids and my wife knew that.
“I’m taking you guys to the game.”
Griffin snickered. “Thought so.”
Quinn chuckled along with him before inhaling one of his pancakes. I joined them at the table with my food, and we talked about school, sports, and girls while we ate. Recently, both boys had taken a mild interest in girls. It was nothing explicit; they had just started to develop crushes now that they no longer found girls gross.
“Griffin’s got two girlfriends,” Quinn announced as we all finished our food. “They fight over ‘im.”
Griffin’s cheeks burned. “Shut up, Q!”
I frowned at Griffin. “Is that true, Griff?”
“No,” he insisted. “They just like me or somethin’. They follow me around at school and get mad when I talk to one girl and not the other. They aren’t me girlfriends, though. I don’t have one, let alone two.”
“Good,” I said, firmly. “That’s disrespectful to play two girls like that.”
“I know.” Griffin nodded. “We have to be nice to girls and treat them like we’d want a lad to treat Georgie, or you to treat Mom. I remember our talk.”
“You said Mom.” Quinn snickered.
Griffin scowled at him. “It’s only ‘cause I was talkin’ to Da! You say words like ‘im sometimes, too.”
I rolled my eyes.
“It’s not a bad thing to say words how I say them. I know you guys are Irish, but you’re American, too. That’s half of my blood flowing through your veins, and I told you it’s important to know your heritage.”
“Ma said we don’t really have an American heritage ‘cause the country was stolen like forever ago.”
I paused. “Okay, that is true but—”
“We’re Irish, but because of you, we have American heritage,” Quinn cut me off. “We know. Please don’t tell us about it again. I feel like we’re in school when you do.”
I had to keep from smiling. He looked pained at the thought of me lecturing him about my homeland.
“Put your dishes in the dishwasher and go upstairs and clean your rooms,” I said. “Mom won’t let you go to your game if you don’t do your chores.”
Griffin perked up at the prospect of getting out of a soccer game, so I added, “She’ll also confiscate your Xbox, desktop, and phone if she has to keep you home from soccer.”
Griffin grunted as he got to his feet. “She’s evil.”
I snorted as they left the room after taking care of their dishes and mine. I relaxed at the table for a moment, then turned my head when Georgie entered the room, fully dressed in jeans, ankle boots, and a sweater.
“You’ll be too warm wearing a sweater and boots today, baby. It’s warm outside.”
Georgie glanced at me and snorted.
“I’m always freezin’, Da. There’s no such thing as too hot for me. Not in this country, anyway.”
My lips quirked as she moved around the kitchen, cleaning up after Bronagh had made everyone breakfast. That was one of Georgie’s chores; she preferred cleaning the kitchen to the bathrooms. The boys would flip a coin to see who got stuck with toilet duty.
“What are you doing today, sweetheart?”
“I have class at the centre at half ten,” she answered. “Auntie Alannah is collectin’ me on ‘er way. Alex and Joey are comin’ with me.”
“And here I thought you would come to the boys’ game with me to keep me company.”
The look of horror Georgie shot my way cracked me up. Her lips twitched when she realised I was teasing her.
“Will ye’ go and get dressed?” she asked, her brow wrinkled. “You’re too old to be walkin’ around in your boxers like the lads.”
“Too old?” I repeated in outrage. “I’m thirty-eight, you little shit.”
Georgie smirked. “That’s only two years away from forty.”
I scowled. “Evil child.”
“I’m gonna be twenty in five years, does that make you feel worse?”
Pain clutched at my chest.
“Yes,” I answered, rubbing the spot. “It does. You’re my baby.”
“D’ye hear that, Axel?” Georgie hollered. “Daddy just called me a baby!”
I heard movement, then quick paced little footsteps as my youngest son barrelled into the room, wrapping his arms around Georgie’s hips when he crashed into her, making her laugh.
“I told ye’!” Axel said to her. “I told ye’ they think we’re all babies.”
“Ye’ did.” Georgie nodded down at him. “I think Mammy and Daddy are goin’ crazy.”
“Super crazy!”
“Hey,” I teased. “You’re all my babies.”
“He’s lost his mind,” Axel said with a shake of his head. “We should put ‘im in the old people’s home ye’ said he and Mammy are gonna go to someday.”
My jaw dropped, and Georgie burst into laughter.
“Ye’ aren’t supposed to tell them what I said,” she tittered, hugging her brother to her side. “They get upset when we call them old.”
“Ohhh.” Axel nodded. “It’s a secret.”
“A super secret.”
Everything was super to Axel when it was being stressed.
“A super secret.” He nodded and looked like he accepted a mission of some kind. “I got it.”
“A nursing home?” I blinked at my daughter. “Really?”
She smiled wide, and it warmed my heart.
She was the picture of her mother, and apart from my dimples, no one would ever guess she was my daughter. Bronagh got all the genetic rights to our firstborn; she got those rights with Quinn, too. He was the only one of my sons who resembled his mother more than me. He had her green eyes, her perfect complexion, her nose, her mouth. Everything. The rest of our boys got my genetics, which meant they looked the Slater part. Beau was the spitting image of Damien’s firstborn son, and since they were close in age, people often thought they were twins, which amused them greatly.
“I’m only teasin’,” Georgie assured me with a wink. “I’d never put you in an old folk’s home. I wouldn’t be able to carry ye’.”
I snorted. “Watch your brother while I go shower.”
Georgie saluted me, then ducked out of my reach with Axel, both screaming with laughter when I fake dived for them. A big smile stretched across my face as I left the room and jogged upstairs. I heard blaring music coming from the attic that was converted into a bedroom a few years before Axel was born. It was Beau’s room, and ever since he hit his teenage years, I was considering soundproofing the damn thing because Beau only understood one volume, and that was loud.
“Beau!” I yelled and banged on the rail of the spiral stairs that led up to his room. “Boy, you better answer me.”
The music switched off, and the door to his room opened ever so slightly.
“What, Da?”
“Turn that garbage down!” I warned. “We have neighbours, you know?”
“Sorry,” Beau said, popping his head out just enough for me to see he was red faced and sweating. “I’ll keep it low.”
His door clicked then, and just as I was about to walk up the sta
irs to see what he was doing, I paused. The last time I walked into his room unannounced, I got an eyeful of my teenager jerking off like there was no tomorrow. He couldn’t look me in the eye for a week after that happened, and since it only occurred a few months ago, I had to keep boundaries and respect his privacy. I remembered what it was like to be fourteen and hormonal. You got wood from something as simple as sniffing fucking flowers.
The only difference between me and my son was that I didn’t have to jerk off. I had paid escorts to take care of my needs. I was sure that was a perk from my past life that Beau would desperately love to avail of. With a grin, I shook my head and walked into my bedroom. I glanced at the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running. I quickly closed the bedroom door, kicked off my boxers, and tiptoed my way into the bathroom.
I hadn’t had shower sex with my wife in months, and there was no way I was going to miss the opportunity of loving her while she was dripping wet. When I stepped into the room, steam slapped me in the face. I could barely see a thing, and that was typical Bronagh. She had to have her shower water run so damn hot before she’d even consider stepping under the spray. The room was like our own personal sauna.
“Hey, mama.”
Bronagh jumped when I entered the shower behind her, but she didn’t spin to face me.
“You’re so predictable,” she said with a snort. “I knew ye’d come up ‘ere.”
I reached out and palmed her ass when I was close enough to do so.
“Can you blame me?” I asked, leaning down and swiping my tongue over her earlobe. “Your ass makes my cock ache.”
“After all this time?” She wiggled her ass against me. “I’ve still got it, fuckface.”
My lips twitched as I looked down and watched as I shifted my hips and began to slowly thrust back and forth. My cock, snugly between Bronagh’s ass cheeks, felt like heaven. I bit down on my lower lip when she clenched her cheeks together, and it sent a wave of bliss riveting straight to my balls.
“Fu...ck.”
“You want me arse?”
I pressed my mouth against Bronagh’s sopping wet hair.
“Yes,” I rasped. “Yes, please, baby.”
She rarely let me fuck her ass, so when she did, it felt like all my Christmases came at once.
“Get me ready.”
Those words sent blood rushing to my already throbbing cock.
I dropped to my knees behind her, leaning forward and biting her ass, making her suck in a sharp breath, then laugh.
“Bastard.”
I smiled as I slid my tongue over the flesh I bit. Without warning, I spread her wide and plunged my tongue into her asshole. Bronagh’s hands flattened against the tiled walls. My arm wrapped around her, flattening against her stomach in an effort to support her in case she slipped and fell. I groaned when Bronagh’s hand ran over mine before she pushed it down to her pussy, showing me what she wanted me to do. My fingers found her clit and hearing the first long moan come from her caused my balls to tighten.
I fucking loved when she moaned.
I tongued her asshole and played with her clit until her body trembled. When I stood, I fisted my cock and pumped it twice before I aligned the head with Bronagh’s body. I used my left hand to spread her, and when I slowly thrust my hips forward, my eyes fluttered shut. The tightness, the heat, the pulsing of my wife’s muscles. It was an ecstasy that only she could give me. I forced my eyes open so I could watch as my cock slipped inside her mag-fucking-nificent ass, and as always, I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head as pleasure licked at me.
“Dominic,” Bronagh whispered. “Fuck.”
Fuck was right.
“Baby,” I lowly groaned. “You always feel so perfect.”
“Easy,” she whispered. “Go easy.”
I had to go easy with her. No matter how many times I fucked her ass, I always had to be very gentle with her in the beginning until she was stretched and used to the sensation of being so full. She came harder when I started out easier, so I took my time thrusting in and out of her body. I brought my mouth to her neck and kissed her skin until her head fell back against my chest.
“Mine,” I grunted as I scraped my teeth over her skin. “Everything about you is mine. I’m going to fuck you into ecstasy, baby.”
“Yes,” she replied, starting to push back against my body. “Fuck. Yes.”
Bronagh wildly bucked back against me, giving me just as good as I was giving her. The only sounds that could be heard were our laboured breathing, the slapping of skin on skin, and the occasional grunt or groan that neither of us could contain. I picked up my pace and fucked my wife harder. When she played with her clit and groaned, the sound went straight to my balls, and I bucked into her harder, faster, deeper. When she sucked in a sharp breath, held it and went still as I fucked her, I knew she was coming. I hissed when her asshole tightened around me as her muscles contracted.
“Good girl,” I praised, running my tongue over her shoulder. “Fuck. You feel so good.”
Now that she had come, I had to chase down my own orgasm because in the back of my mind I knew that at any moment, one of the kids was going to call us and put an indefinite pause on our alone time. It took another thirty seconds, but when my balls drew up tight and a shiver danced the length of my spine, I knew I was about to come. My lips parted and deep groans filled the room as the first spurt shot free. I hissed when Bronagh’s muscles contracted a couples of times and acted like a vacuum, sucking the cum out of my cock.
“Baby!”
She chuckled in response.
“I fucking love you,” I panted, slapping her ass for good measure. “You continue to ruin me.”
Bronagh grunted against the wall. “Ye’ve just about fucked me into a coma, big man.”
I laughed as I slipped out of her body. I spent a few minutes catering to her. I washed her hair and body because not only did I love doing it, but she loved me doing it.
“Are you going to tell me what got you upset in the kitchen earlier?”
She turned to face me, looked up at me, and my heart thumped against my chest. She was beautiful, so painfully beautiful that I could never get enough of her. This woman had my heart, body, and soul. One look from those big green eyes, and I was completely at her mercy.
“I don’t even know what me problem is,” she answered with a sigh. “Sometimes, I just realise we have such a big family, and I’m terrified if we suddenly can’t provide for them anymore.”
“Bronagh.”
“You’re the one who makes the money, Dominic,” she cut me off. “I just … I just—”
“You just take care of everyone and everything else,” I finished. “Sweetheart, you are the heart of this family. Without you, there is nothing. You know that.”
When her eyes glazed over with tears, I leaned down and kissed her until she relaxed against me.
“Alannah pays you too. You’ve been working with her for years. You contribute financially as well as me.”
She sighed but didn’t disagree with me.
“No more worrying,” I murmured against her lips. “Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“I love you.”
She hummed. “I love ye’, too.”
I jumped when her nails ran over my softening cock, and it made her laugh as I backed out of the shower with a smirk in place.
“Same time tomorrow?”
Bronagh snorted. “If I can sit down by then, we’ll see.”
I left our bathroom with a shit-eating grin on my face. I dried myself off, changed into clean boxer shorts, and just as I was about to grab some pants, I thought I heard voices in the hallway. I ventured outside to investigate, and the second I left the room, gasps and giggles could be heard, as well as a horrified, “Da!”
Georgie was clearly heading towards her bedroom with two of her friends in tow, Alexandra and Joanne aka Alex and Joey. I had known both girls since they were in kin
dergarten with my daughter, so seeing them stare at me without blinking freaked me out. I looked down at my boxer briefs then back up to my child’s teenage friends, and I think, for the first time in years, I felt myself blush.
“Hi, girls.” I smiled as I reached out to grab a towel hanging over the stair rail and wrapped it tightly around my hips. “How are you, ladies?”
“I’m doin’ real good, Mr. Slater,” Joey replied with a brow raised and her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “Real good, sir.”
Alex giggled and Joey stared at me without blinking while Georgie looked mortified if her burning face was any indication.
“Can you please put some clothes on?” she pleaded. “Please.”
I bobbed my head and sprung back into my bedroom and closed the door behind me before anyone could speak another word. Bronagh was in the middle of putting a bra on. She already had socks and panties on, and when she saw me, she raised her brows.
“Alex and Joey just saw me in my boxers.” I cringed. “I think Joey licked her lips, too.”
Bronagh grinned. “Is Georgie red faced?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “She’ll be complaining about this for the next week.”
My wife giggled as she pulled on a pair of jeans, and she playfully rolled her eyes when she found my eyes glued to her as she got dressed. I grinned, not ashamed in the least to be caught ogling her. I watched her as often as I could, and she and everyone else knew it. My kids weren’t bothered by it because seeing me being constantly affectionate to their mother was all they ever knew. I think if I stopped showing that affection, they would find it weird.
“You’ll have to apologise to Georgie,” Bronagh said as she put on her socks. “She’ll be a nightmare otherwise.”
I pulled on jeans, socks, and a t-shirt.
“I’ll catch her before she goes to the centre with the girls.”
“I’m bringin’ Axel shoppin’ with me, so you just have Quinn and Griffin to bring to their game. Their game is a home game, so it’s just down to the pitches for you. I wanna stop off at Skechers and get Axel new runners; his last two pairs were ruined from all the climbin’ he does at Gravity with you.”
I smiled. “He loves it.”
“His runners don’t.”