Her Russian Returns #15
In Sir’s Arms #16
Bound by Love #17
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Also part of the Submissive Training Center world:
Safe Haven (Captain’s Duet, #1) Slated for 6/12/18
Destined to Dominate (Captain’s Duet, #2) Late Summer 2018
Confessions of a Cockblocked Wingman
Daisy Prescott
A short story starring the cockiest Wingman, Tom Donnely.
Copyright © 2018 by Daisy Prescott
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Confessions of a Cockblocked Wingman
First of all, you should know that when people call me cocky, I always take it as a compliment. Sure, sometimes they add asshole or prick as an insult, but that's okay, I probably earned it. Pretty confident even my beautiful wife has called me cocky dozens of times and a few of those times were in anger, not awe.
Such is life.
With great abundance comes great responsibility.
And I have more than my fair share when it comes to looks, talent, and luck.
Sure, call me cocky. Call me a reformed man whore. Hell, I still happily answer to Tom Cat.
But don't think for one minute, not even a second, that I'm not one hundred percent loyal and completely in love with my wife.
Hailey is my beginning and my end. As long as she’ll have me, I’m hers. I want to be old and crotchety with her.
Cocky or not, I'm not stupid enough not to realize when the love of my life is mad at me.
Banish might be too strong a word, but when she gave me “the look” and told me there was nothing to eat in the house, I knew I'd be better off hunting and gathering dinner than sticking around. And I'm smart enough to bring the baby with me to give Hailey a break.
Shaw happily chirps away in his car seat behind me in Hailey’s new Highlander while I pull into a parking spot and pull out my phone. I have no idea what Hailey wants to eat and won’t risk grabbing something she hates. While I wait for her to respond, I strap on the baby carrier and secure my six-month-old son against my chest, facing out so he can see the world.
I didn't bring the cart cozy thing Hailey uses and there's no telling what germs are coating the seat and handles. Better to avoid cross-contamination. You never know when there’s a stomach virus lurking around.
“You're staying strapped in today, buddy.” I rub his head. His pale blond hair curls at the ends. There's zero doubt he's mine. And if there were, his tendency to flirt with every woman he sees would erase any speck of uncertainty. Little dude has his dad's charms.
My phone vibrates and pings with Hailey's list. I laugh when I see the mix of salty junk food, chocolate, and random staples like cereal and milk. I know we have a half gallon of milk and four boxes of her favorite cereals at home. With my thumbs hovering over the screen, another message comes through. She's also placed an order from Sal's Pizza for me to pick up on the way home.
Figures.
On our way into the store, a few women I don't recognize smile and wave at Shaw. Their eyes light up when they see him, some deep, primal desire brightens their smiles.
Babies are irresistible to a lot of women. The scent of baby wash alone can flip a switch inside a woman. I don’t think I ever realized the full extent of this power before watching women react to Shaw.
I should’ve been more prepared. After all, Hailey and I reconnected at my sister’s baby shower. The power of tiny humans was at work on me even if I hadn’t realized it then.
Even sleep deprived and feeling like I’m doing things wrong with Shaw half the time, I really want Hailey pregnant again. We aren’t using anything to prevent it, but we’re not exactly trying either. Hell, we barely have sex these days, choosing sleep above almost anything else. Need to change that. I miss my wife.
“Hi there, good lookin'. Aren't you a dream boat?” a woman who appears to be my mom's age makes a beeline for us, hands outstretched and fingers wiggling. In the past, my ego would take the compliment, flash her a grin and put a smile on her face. But her smile isn’t for me. Nope. She’s focused solely on Shaw.
Not taking any chances, I grab a cart and keep it between her and us.
Shaw laughs and claps his hands, his tiny feet swinging and kicking way too close to my groin.
One of our would-be attackers sighs. “Nothing cuter than a man with a baby. And the cheeks on both of you. I don’t know which I want to pinch more.”
She must be friends with the local gossip brigade. They’re more perverted than most men I know.
Weaving my way through the aisles, I dodge more women with the same gleam in their eyes. I can feel the weight of their staring.
One lady sneaks up in a side ambush, her hand brushing my arm before she tickles Shaw’s sock-covered foot. “I love a man with dimples.”
I don’t know which one of us she’s complimenting.
Happy for the attention, Shaw bounces and jiggles against my chest, waving his arms and giggling.
“You aren’t helping,” I whisper near his head when the tickling woman walks away. “It isn’t my face that’s at risk of being pinched.”
After a woman in a Whidbey sweatshirt rubs a peach against her cheek while eyeing us, I decide to get out of the produce section.
I curse Hailey for requesting breakfast sausage after running into Connie, who makes a comment about girth when she sees me holding a roll of Jimmy Dean.
At that point, I resolve we need to start ordering our groceries online.
Even though ice cream isn’t on the list, I decide to buy a couple of pints, knowing we can never have enough.
“Well, if this isn’t the most ridiculous, asinine thing I ever thought I'd see. Tom Donnely parading around like a kangaroo.” Olaf's voice surprises me from behind.
With three pints of ice cream tucked in the crook of my arm, I close the freezer door and face him. Shaw claps his chubby hands and gurgles at the cranky bartender from the Dog House. He must like the old man's beard.
It isn’t like I've been playing pool on Thursdays with my baby. I'm sure Shaw would have a good time hanging out with the guys, but I think Olaf's head might separate from his body and float away if we brought our kids into his bar. John's son, Mac, is the same age as Shaw and we've started a bet on when the two of them will first get in trouble together. John’s wife Diane and Hailey joke if they're going to turn out anything like their fathers, we should put the money into a fund for bail money because we'll need the compound interest.
“Hey, Olaf.” Using a falsetto, I wave Shaw's arm.
“I've seen everything now,” Olaf grumbles. “Next thing I know you'll be asking me to turn the bar into a romper room.”
I chuckle because I called that. “Might help your business if you were more family friendly instead of snarling at everyone.”
“You sound like Dan, getting in my business and telling me what to do. Bunch of cocky assholes.”
I cover Shaw's ears in mock outrage. “Language in front of the baby.”
Olaf's grumbling provokes my laughter, which annoys him more. “If that kid’s first word is profanity, you only have yourself to blame.”
Shaw finds this funny and giggles, flailing his arms and reaching out to touch Olaf.
With a grunt, the man gives in and sticks out his finger for Shaw to wrap his chubby fist around. Not even he is immune to the charms of my son.
A fraction of a smile cracks through his typical scowl. “Damn kids.”
“They’re tiny but powerful, right?” I let Shaw hold my finger in his other hand.
“Pure innocence. If only they could stay that way.” He pulls his finger away and straightens his back.
I forget he has two grown sons who live off
the island. From what I hear, they don’t have the best relationships. I can’t imagine how much that sucks. The Donnelys are a close-knit family, too close at times, but I wouldn’t change it.
We say goodbye to Olaf and check out without a single pinch or grope from Sandy the cashier.
After picking up the pizza at Sal’s, I swing by Fellowship of the Bean to grab a coffee on the way home.
“Do you need a babysitter on Saturday afternoon?” Standing inside of the drive-up coffee hut, Jonah nervously strokes his dark beard.
“You volunteering to take my kid?” I eye him with suspicion. Despite being business partners with Erik Kelso and being Ashley’s brother, he’s a good man. A little weird, keeps to himself and is the last of the bachelors in our original group, but reasonable all the same. “The only people who want to hang out with a baby besides us and other people with babies are his grandparents and aunts. Since you don’t fall into any of those categories, what’s the deal? You need a reminder to keep your dick wrapped?”
His hand pauses near his mouth and a low chuckle gets muffled behind it.
“Busted. Offering to babysit sounded better than asking if I can borrow Shaw for a couple of hours.” He busies himself with making my coffee, dumping out the old espresso grounds before grinding fresh beans.
“He isn’t a chainsaw or a truck. What do you need a baby for?” I lean my arm on the open window of our SUV and watch him work.
Jonah focuses on the process of making an Americano like it’s the first time he’s ever done it and not the millionth.
“Did you ask John to babysit Mac? Being his second, he’s more chill about the kid.”
His lip curls up slightly. “Thought I’d start with you.”
“Why me?” Pieces of the puzzle click into place. “This have anything to do with a woman?”
“Maybe. I figured if anyone would understand, it would be you. Because, well, you know…” The sound of sputtering steam cuts off the rest of his words.
I wait for him to finish before speaking. “Man, even I didn’t use my sisters’ kids to pick up women.”
“A new low?” he asks with a sheepish smile.
“It’s fucking brilliant, devious as hell. I’m jealous I never used this trick when I was single. Who’s the woman? Anyone I know?” Hailey isn’t going to approve of this plan at all, but I’m curious enough to hear him out.
“I don’t think you know her. She’s new to the island. No family here.” He won’t meet my eyes.
“How is Shaw going to help?”
“I’m not sure he will, but he might give me the air of responsibility I’m apparently lacking in a certain woman’s eyes.”
“Sure you don’t want to start with taking Nameless on a walk instead? He’s adorable, too. There still might be shit involved, but easier to deal with.”
He puts a lid on my coffee. “You’re probably right.”
“When’s Ashley due? Can’t this wait until your niece or nephew is born? Doting uncle is a good look for you.” I accept my cup of coffee and try to hand him a five.
He waves off my cash. “Newborns are scary. The way you can see their pulse through the gap in their skull freaks me the hell out.”
I nod in agreement. “Totally get that. Let me ask Hailey if she has plans. I can’t promise she’ll agree, but I’ll give it a shot. No taking him to bars or to a club in Seattle. Olaf’s forbidden all babies from the Dog House under threat of a lifetime ban on their parents. Not sure if he means his life or ours, but let’s not push it”
“You know Dan and I are in talks with Olaf about taking over after a buyout? About time he retired, but he’s too stubborn to admit it.” Jonah finally smiles, leaning on the small counter next to the window. His sleeves of tattoos are on full display beneath the short sleeves of his T-shirt. He’s a borderline hipster but still good people.
“Makes sense. Sal’s practically runs itself, and Erik seems surprisingly capable of running the coffee business. Better two locals than someone from the city. Let me know if you want another business partner. I could be interested.” John too, but I don’t mention it to Jonah. For all the money we’ve spent on beers, we should already be Olaf’s silent partners. Shifting back into drive, I tell him I’ll let him know about Saturday.
On the short drive home, Shaw falls asleep in his car seat. It’s early for his afternoon nap, but I’m not going to complain.
I carry him inside the house and up to his room, settling him into his crib. Briefly, his eyes flutter open before he finds his blanket and snuggles himself back to sleep.
After making sure the baby monitor is on, I close the door behind me. Only then do I realize there’s no music or television noise coming from downstairs.
“Hailey?” I call softly as I walk down the hall to our room.
She’s tucked under a blanket on top of our bed, completely crashed out. Our dog lifts his head and blinks at me with sleepy eyes. I click my tongue, and he jumps off the bed. Not wanting to wake her, I pull shut the door and head downstairs.
Nameless follows and then takes off outside, bounding off the front porch to chase a squirrel into the woods surrounding the house. He’ll come back when he’s ready, so I don’t bother calling for him.
Back in the kitchen, I put the ice cream in the freezer and turn on the oven to keep the pizza warm. I open a beer and flip on the television in the living room. Mariners are playing and I find the game. Two innings later, they’re up seven to zero when Hailey pads downstairs. Her dark hair is a mess and she has an imprint of pillow wrinkles on her cheek.
“How long have you been home?” she asks, crawling onto my lap and resting her head on my chest.
“Long enough for the Mariners to start winning.” I run my hands down her back before slipping my fingers beneath the waistband of her sweats, touching warm, soft skin as I cup the round curves of her ass. We don’t have a ton of time, but maybe we have enough to fool around. “You aren’t wearing underwear.”
“You make it sound sexy when it’s only laziness. If I weren’t nursing, I wouldn’t be wearing a bra either. And I’m pretty sure I’ve worn these sweats for the past three days, even with the muddy paw prints on the thigh from where Nameless jumped up on me. I’ve never been less hot in my life. Except that time when we both had the stomach flu.” She squirms and sits upright, pressing herself against my growing hard-on. “How can you be turned on by this hot mess?”
“It’s not your hair or makeup or what clothes you wear that makes you hot. It’s you, every gorgeous inch of you.”
“Take off your pants.” Her voice is commanding as she grinds against me. “Now.”
“When was the last time you showered?” I tease her, reaching for my fly.
“Thomas Clifford.” Admonishing me with my full name, she rises onto her knees and pulls at the knot holding her pants closed. “You can be funny or you can get laid.”
“Are you saying I can’t do both?” I take her words as a dare. “I accept your challenge.”
On the baby monitor, Shaw grunts and stirs.
She grimaces and sticks out her tongue at me. “We don’t have time for your antics. The baby could wake up any minute and cockblock us.”
“Little bastard.” Grinning up at her, I pull her shirt over her head.
“He is your son.” Fabric muffles her voice, but I hear her clearly.
Once topless, she leans forward to kiss me as I flip the clasp on her bra. I brush my tongue against hers and moan when her hand cups me through my jeans. One touch from her and I’m throbbing. It’s been two weeks since we had sex and that was a quickie in the shower before work. I miss my wife. A petty part of me hates sharing her time and attention with anyone. Then I feel guilty because I’m jealous of my own kid. But I’m never going to admit that aloud.
Instead of focusing on what’s changed and what I’m missing, I focus on this moment and challenge myself to see how quickly I can make her come.
With my mindset, I lift
her and off me, setting her feet on the floor before standing in front of her. I drop my jeans and boxers, loving the way her eyes widen when she stares at my body. I swear my cock swells with pride under her attention.
Shaw fusses, and we both freeze again, waiting for him to do more, but he quiets. Our time is running out.
“This isn’t going to be slow. You okay with that?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Nodding, she licks her lips. “Fast and hard works for me.”
Unable to resist, I kiss her deeply and then drag my teeth over her bottom lip. “God, I love you. Turn around.”
“I love you, especially when you’re bossy,” she says over her shoulder, bracing her hands on the end of the couch. Her full, plump ass lifts in the air, teasing me. She loves it in this position.
I find her as ready as I am, easily slipping a finger inside her. Without wasting time, I guide myself to her opening and thrust inside. We groan simultaneously. I pull out and slide back in to my base. A few more thrusts and I’m right on the edge. But this isn’t about me getting off in a few strokes. Locating her clit, I press my thumb in a tight circle, matching the rhythm of my cock sliding against her g-spot.
From upstairs, a few grumpy baby squawks crackle over the monitor.
“Damn, hurry. Please. I’m so close.” Hailey’s hand rests over mine to encourage me.
No pressure. It’s like making love with a ticking bomb winding down the seconds to explosion.
Shaw quiets, and I refocus on Hailey’s orgasm. Soon I feel the telltale tightening of her inner walls around me, and I know she’s nearly there. Bending over her, I squeeze her nipple with my other hand and whisper near her ear, “I can feel you squeezing my cock, and it’s so fucking hot to be inside you when you come.”
That does it. With a soft moan, she bucks and arches and then stills as her orgasm pulses through her.
A low moan of my own rumbles in my chest. Unable to hold off another second, I push deep and then grind into her as I explode.
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