Daddy Daddy: MFM Menage Romance

by Demi Donovan

  “Please, please, please Daddy, Daddy,” I let out in garbled words. “Please cum in me, please cum in me now!”

  I scream the words, pleading with them as Sawyer gropes my tits and Parker sucks on them, both of them fucking me like madmen. We’re twisted together so tight that I don’t know where one of them ends and the other begins, but I know both of them are inside of me and that’s exactly where I want them to be.

  “Oh my god!” I squeal, feeling their movements get less controlled, knowing they’re close.

  “I’ll fill your fucking ass with my cum, kitten,” Sawyer growls in my ear, and I think a tear streaks down my cheek at that.

  I couldn’t agree with it more.

  I clench down on both of them and within a couple of thrusts from one another, they blow their loads. Slick with sweat, they pound into my holes, filling me with their cum.

  I collapse on Parker’s chest and for a long time, we stay there, both of them still in me. I wince but don’t move as Sawyer slowly unseats himself, pulling out of me and laying back next to Parker. Gently, I’m moved off of Parker and nestled between their big, strong bodies, my arm still tossed over Parker’s chest.

  I’m numb and I’m so full of feeling at the same time.

  “Please stay tonight,” I say to the both of them and I think I don’t stay awake for more than two minutes after that.

  So this is what bliss feels like.

  Twenty-Three

  Parker

  If keeping my mind on work and focusing was hard after the first time with Sawyer and Cassie, it’s pretty much impossible now.

  We didn’t stop at that one time at my place. We picked it right back up in the morning and since then, we’ve been finding every fucking moment we could to get together and violate each other like the consenting adults that we are. I’ve never felt more energized and more conflicted at the same time.

  As right as all of it feels, there’s still a very real feeling of wrongness somewhere beneath the surface, because I know that I should tell her father that things between me and Cassie aren’t just professional anymore. That there’s more to it than work and giving her a shot.

  That I’m falling in love and I think Sawyer is as well and that it’s perfectly okay (or as close as you can get to that) with both of us.

  I can’t even imagine how I’m supposed to tell that to Cameron, so I don’t and as far as I can tell, Cassie’s more than happy to ignore the topic as well. The few times I’ve tried to broach it, she’s shut down, starting to fiddle with her phone and looking guilty. I don’t want to prod further but maybe I’m not the only one feeling odd about all of this?

  In fact, I still haven’t gotten over the feeling of someone watching me every now and then, especially when I’m out of the office or not at my place or Sawyer’s. It’s like an invisible pair of eyes stays on me, breathing down the back of my neck, and I can fucking feel it every day.

  I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s just my guilt?

  In an effort to shrug it off, I shoo it out of my head and refocus on the presentation one of the department heads is giving. It’s tough, because Sawyer’s sitting on my right hand and Cassie on my left and this is the same fucking meeting room where I caught them the first time, which led to the rest of it.

  Thankfully it’s the last meeting of the day and we’re out of there soon enough, to everyone’s relief, I think. I didn’t catch a word of what was said so I hope someone else did. By the way Cassie’s fingers try to slip into my palm as we walk up the stairs, I get the feeling that I probably wasn’t the only distracted person in the room.

  Sawyer’s just a step or two behind us as we move to our floor. Cassie reluctantly lets go of my hand and without saying a word, only communicating through glances it seems, we all decide to gather our stuff and get out of the office at a reasonable hour. It’s been happening more and more – we’ve been getting in earlier and leaving earlier because it’s easier to work in the morning than at the end of the day when I’ve had Cassie and the vision of Sawyer and I fucking her in my head all day.

  “I think the meeting went well,” Cassie tells me lightly as we head toward the front door, Sawyer trailing not far behind us again.

  Her phone buzzes in her purse and as usual, she ignores it.

  “How come you always answer our calls but never seem to even look at it when we’re together?” I ask, teasing her a little.

  Cassie blushes, looking markedly uncomfortable, and I decide to drop the topic. I have better things on my mind anyway, like getting home and bending her over the dining room table, for one.

  We walk to the parking area and make a beeline for my car, parked right next to Sawyer’s Ferrari. He’s been defaulting to that one a lot lately, though he owns at least four supercars.

  Instead of continuing her happy banter, Cassie falls behind me a couple of steps and almost bumps back-first into Sawyer. She’s staring straight ahead when I turn to look at her and when I glance where she’s staring, I see a tall, skinny guy, leaning on my Mercedes.

  “You know this punk?” Sawyer asks me, the three of us standing and looking at the smirking guy with too much guyliner (that being any guyliner, of course), still practically lounging on my car.

  “Never seen him,” I growl, but by the look on Cassie’s face, she definitely knows him.

  “Come on, Cassie,” I tell her, making her catch up to me as I head to the car.

  She’s still a little behind me, twitching nervously when I click the alarm system off. The punk sitting on it doesn’t even notice, taking in both me and Sawyer with a calculating gaze.

  “So these are the sugar daddies, huh?” he says loudly, making a couple of SCP employees glance in our direction. “Nice choices, Cassie, baby.”

  He grins wide and I immediately fight the urge to knock his teeth out. I don’t consider myself a violent man but just the way he’s looking at her, like she’s his property, makes my blood boil.

  She’s not his. She’s mine and Sawyer’s.

  Sawyer is wound as tight as I am now and we both glower at the guy.

  “Cassie, you want to introduce us to your friend?” Sawyer asks, his voice low and dangerous.

  “I’m not her friend,” the stranger scoffs. “I’m her boyfriend.”

  Yup, this guy is looking to get his teeth knocked out.

  “I’m not your girlfriend!” Cassie says, mortified, finally coming out of whatever trance she was in. “Mark, why did you come here? How did you even know where I was?”

  “Get off my fucking car, Mark,” I add, finding it a distinct displeasure to meet his acquaintance.

  “Whoa, chill out, pops,” Mark laughs, jumping up. “I just have some beef with my girl, nothing to concern you.”

  “She’s not your girl,” Sawyer growls, taking a step closer to Cassie.

  I’m virtually standing between them, Mark to one side of me and Cassie and Sawyer to the other, with Cassie looking like she’s seen a ghost. People are milling back and forth, getting in their cars, occasionally saying their goodbyes to me and Sawyer. This is not the place to have a confrontation, especially about something as delicate as our relationship with Cassie, but I don’t see any way we could divert it at this point.

  “Oh, but she is,” Mark says, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, who breaks up with a guy over the phone? That’s just not fair. And Cassie, baby, we have unfinished business, if you know what I mean.”

  I have to give it to the kid, he’s sure full of himself.

  Cassie blanches further, stuttering and stammering over her words.

  “Mark, just leave, please. This is not the time. Just… please?”

  There’s a quake in her voice that I don’t like to hear. Mark’s expression gets colder and I feel my shoulders tensing, sensing something dark.

  “What unfinished business?” Sawyer asks.

  “It’s between her and me, sugar daddy,” Mark scoffs, his cruel gaze on Cassie.

  “Mark, I
told you, it’s over. We’re done. I have nothing for you anymore,” Cassie says, her voice close to hysteria now.

  “We’re done when I say we’re done,” Mark hisses.

  He takes a step forward, his teeth bared in a sneer and the moment I see his fist ball, I find myself stepping forward, cutting off Mark’s path to Cassie.

  “You’ve got a problem with her, you’ve got a problem with us, kid. Get the fuck out of town and forget you ever knew this girl if you know what’s good for you,” I hiss, feeling fucking violent.

  “What, she sucking your dick for money and you’re afraid I’ll take her away? Don’t worry, pops, I just want my share,” Mark laughs.

  The sound doesn’t travel far because in the next instant, I’ve rolled back my fist and decked him with a heavy, solid punch to the face.

  He clutches his nose as he goes down, blood gushing from it. Sawyer pulls Cassie to himself immediately and ushers her into his car, the closer of the two, with Cassie looking absolutely horrified.

  “Don’t worry, Cassie, we’ll figure this out,” I tell her, relaxing my hand.

  Sawyer pulls out of the parking spot even before Mark is done screaming. I crouch down next to him, a couple of people watching us as I do, but I don’t particularly care. I have good lawyers and I’ve never had to use them for something like this before. All the more reason for it to be easy to buy my way out if this punk decided to press charges.

  “Now listen, Mark. You get to disappear now. You get to take your shitty fashion sense and your bad life choices and get back on a bus to wherever and never show up around Cassie again. Because if you even call her or text her, I will know. I have that kind of superpower, kid. I can sense assholes from half a continent away and you can be sure, I’ll be remembering you.

  “Unless you want me to break more than your nose, say your spirit, or your zest for life, or your cock, then you’re going to disappear. We’ll never hear from you again and it’ll make everyone involved happier, you hear me?”

  Mark nods through tears and grunts. He might have lost a tooth, too.

  “Whatever, dude. You can keep her. She’s not what you think she is, but that’s your fucking problem now,” Mark spits, before peeling himself off the pavement and staggering out of the direct path of my car.

  Getting into my Mercedes, I still feel the adrenaline pounding through me. For a moment too long, I let myself wonder what he meant.

  Twenty-Four

  Sawyer

  “Is she asleep?” Parker asks as I leave the bedroom and join him in my study.

  By the looks of it, he’s a good quarter into the whiskey bottle by now and I’m not the man that’s going to stop him. The ice pack I got for his hand is lying discarded in the towel on the couch and Parker’s slumped in a leather recliner, looking less than enthused as he rolls the amber liquid around in the tumbler before taking another sip.

  “I think she is,” I say, having just tucked Cassie in.

  She spent most of the evening apologizing over and over again, despite the fact that we said she had nothing to be sorry about. Neither Parker nor I are strangers to the past creeping up on you and that’s what I told Cassie. It did little to calm her down, though.

  Safe to say, the mood in the apartment is dark.

  I pour myself a drink as well and join Parker in his grim mood, leaning on my desk. He’s staring at a spot in front of him as if it has caused personal grief to him, probably in the foulest mood I’ve seen him since he punched me.

  Who knew that Parker Carlson would turn into such a rumbler? I guess the right woman can make a man discover many a hidden secret about himself.

  “You did the right thing, you know,” I tell him.

  Parker runs a hand over his face, shaking his head. He’s knuckles are a little bruised, just a pinkish redness to them reminding of the two run-ins with another man’s face they’ve had recently.

  “He was just a kid.”

  “He was man enough to know what he was saying,” I scoff, feeling no remorse for this Mark.

  “I wonder what the real story is there,” Parker says, glancing at me.

  For all her apologizing, Cassie wasn’t forthcoming with the whole story. She told us how they met and the kind of relationship they had, but not why he would deem it reasonable to stalk her like this, to find her here. Her guess was that he must have learned her location from Callista, though if Callista is the sensible girl that Cassie has painted her as, I doubt she’d give that scumbag any information without warning Cassie first.

  There’s definitely something there that she isn’t telling us, but tonight didn’t feel like the time to start prying.

  “You think she’s lying to us about something?” I ask, hating that my mind goes for the shittiest option first, but that’s how it’s always been.

  She is her father’s daughter after all, I think to myself, pursing my lips.

  That makes me take a hearty gulp of the whiskey, feeling the burn as it rolls down my throat. I set the glass down then, resolving not to keep drinking. It’s too easy of an option and I feel like I might need a clear head for tonight, if for no other reason than to talk myself out of dumb thoughts.

  “I think she’s not telling us something. Whether that constitutes as lying is up for debate,” Parker says darkly.

  We sit in silence for a moment, brooding in our respective foul moods. I still have to marvel at how we landed here anyway. How did we get from wanting the same girl, to fucking her at the same time and both getting so twisted up in her that every little bit of her heartache seems to chip whole chunks out of the both of us? It’s crazy. We should be too old for nonsense like this. We should know better.

  But I guess we don’t.

  “We can try again in the morning,” I say with a shrug, but there’s a sinking feeling in my gut.

  Something’s up and it doesn’t start and end with a shitty ex-boyfriend, I can feel it.

  “Sure,” Parker agrees, starting to get up with a sigh.

  At that moment, the house line rings, the phone clattering on the desk next to me. I frown, looking at it. No one uses this line and I’ve been meaning to cancel it for years now, but just haven’t gotten around to it. I share a look with Parker and he shrugs noncommittally.

  “I’ll go to bed,” he says, telling me what we both already know – that he’s going to stay the night and we’re going to sleep on either side of Cassie again and that’s exactly how it’s going to be.

  I nod and then answer the call, clicking it on speaker before Parker’s out of the room. It’s midnight, who the fuck would be calling at this hour?

  “This is Sawyer Layton,” I say, my voice clear and obviously annoyed. “Who is this?”

  “Sawyer, my old friend,” a voice that I wouldn’t forget in a million years comes over the line, stopping Parker dead in his tracks.

  His eyes are wide, hand still on the doorknob as he turns to look at me, the door partly open.

  “Cameron?” he mouths, and I nod.

  I fucking knew this wasn’t the end of our troubles tonight.

  “Cameron,” I say tentatively, wishing I’d finished my drink now. “What can I do for you? Long time, no talk.”

  “Well, you’ve been so rudely blowing me off for years now, so I think it’s mostly you who’s been avoiding the talking, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Is there anything I can help you with, Cameron?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  Parker’s left the door ajar and come closer to hear better. We share a questioning look and it’s obvious Parker is as clueless as to the reason for this call as I am.

  “First thing’s first. Is Cassie there? Can she hear you?”

  “No,” I say firmly, my shoulders tensing.

  “Good. I don’t want my little girl involved in this,” Cameron says, but his tone doesn’t exactly make me think he’s being truthful about that. Nothing about him strikes me as a caring parent. “Now, I think you and I have a couple of t
hings to discuss. I know I should start with Parker on things like this, seeing as we have some mutual history that would be beneficial, but I figured that you’re the more likely candidate here. I mean, you always were the depraved fucker of the three of us.”

  There’s laughter in his voice and his words are a little slurred, but not much. I can’t tell if he’s drunker than usual or just riding his usual level of buzz, but he’s definitely been drinking.

  Parker’s brow is furrowed now, staying perfectly silent, his expression hard. It’s a relief, knowing I’m not the only one in the dark at the moment.

  “You know me so well,” I respond, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “Cameron, as much as I enjoy catching up on old times, it’s late and I’d like to get to bed. Was there something you wanted or are we just catching up as depraved fuckers do?”

  There’s a snort of laughter on the other line and I roll my eyes, pretty sure now that Cameron’s just wasted and dialed the first number he found on his phone, rolling with the punches now.

  “Getting to bed, huh? What, haven’t fucked my daughter yet tonight and need to get your dick wet?”

  Those words send both Parker and I into stunned silence. We stare at each other for a moment and then at the phone. How the fuck does he know?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cameron,” I say, keeping my voice calm.

  “Yeah, you fucking do. I know you do. Not just you, but Parker too. Yeah, don’t try to fucking hide it. I have pictures. I know what you’ve been doing with my little Cassie. You sick fuck.”

  For an outraged father, the amount of amusement in his voice doesn’t exactly sell me on the role. My hands are rolled into tight fists and if Cameron was here right now, I’m not sure if our conversation would be as civilized as it is now.

  I take a breath before I shoot back, finding it fucking hard to keep from escalating the situation.