Spring Fever Daddies
Page 15
“Why don’t you get him, Alicia, and Lori, over there, get saddled up and start heading back? We’ll be behind you soon. The kids and I are just going to have a little talk about manners and consequences.”
His eyes were dark beads of anger, and I noticed not a single kid dared to look at him.
Every single one of them, besides Derek, looked like they would rather be heading back early with me. I smiled and rounded up my three, sticking close to Alex, just in case Derek tried to start any more trouble.
The three were experienced riders, I learned, and we made it back to the ranch quickly. The girls dispersed, running back to the empty vans, leaving Alex and me alone to put the horses away.
Alex was the strong, silent type. He moved quickly, putting away the girls’ horses before turning his attention to his own. I noticed that his face was flushed with anger as he worked through Thor’s mane, undoing the braids he had fashioned only an hour before.
“I think they looked nice. Made him look all regal and shit,” I offered, searching for something to say.
“Whatever. They are just braids. Doesn’t mean anything,” Alex muttered, his eyes trained on his horse. “Derek’s just an ass with nothing new to say.”
“Kinda seems that way, doesn’t it?” My gut ached for this overgrown man-child standing here trying to act tough, and I wondered if any of his experiences mirrored my own. God, I hoped not. I had been reeling with anger, barely able to contain it since Derek had decided to fling the ‘f’ word in his direction.
I was calmer now, away from the crowd and all the commotion, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was an opportunity for a defining moment. Whether it was in my life, or his, I didn’t know, but I knew I had to say something. These kids were the reason we were all here, because, not too long ago, we had been them.
“Alicia seems pretty cool, the way she had your back like that.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, she’s cool. It’s fine. Derek just starts shit because he has nothing to do, and it bugs him that the two prettiest girls he knows would rather hang around me.”
“Yeah.” This was going nowhere. So much for defining moments.
“I don’t really like when he calls her out like that. She’s shy, and it bothers her.”
“She didn’t seem shy when she was giving him the what for,” I mused.
“Her brother was gay. He died. Suicide. She doesn’t like bullying.”
“Wow.” I gulped, hit with the gravity of what these kids still had to go through. It was maddening that twenty years had passed, gay marriage was legal, the world was so much more enlightened, and words like faggot were still thrown around with ease. “Well, good for her then.”
C’mon, Mitch. I was growing more disgusted with myself with every awkward sentence that came out of my mouth. I wanted so much to say something that would brighten this kid’s day or make some sort of difference in his life, but in actuality, I was hovering on the cusp of a panic attack, and all I wanted was Brody.
If I could do this, Brody would be proud of me, and for once, I would be proud of myself. Knowing that was one thing. Acting on it, another. I drew a deep breath and patted Thor on the neck, focusing my attention on his thick, silky mane. Horses always calmed me.
“There are always going to be Dereks in the world. There is always going to be someone who is jealous of you, or hateful towards you, or just plain mean. That is a fact of life. It’s a sad one, but it’s one that has always existed, and one that will likely never change. Those people should not dictate how your live your life. They should not affect the decisions you make or who you are.”
I paused, looked up from the horse, and found Alex watching me intently as he listened. Damn. It struck me suddenly that everything I was saying to Alex was everything Brody and April had been saying to me all week.
I gave myself a second to process that, then continued my speech. “It’s your life, Alex. Not Derek’s or anyone else’s. And if you don’t live it for yourself, but live it in fear of what the Dereks of the world may say or do, it’s going to be a sad and lonely one. You should never deny yourself happiness because you are worried about other people’s reactions.”
Alex was watching me shrewdly. “Hey, man, I’m cool. I’m happily out and have been for years.”
“Oh. Then why did you let me make that speech?”
Alex smiled, shrugged, and dropped a large hand onto my shoulder. “I don’t know, man. It seemed like you needed to say it. Who knows, maybe it wasn’t me you were talking to.”
Slade and the kids returned then, and Alex left me, ambling over to the place on the bleachers where the two girls sat, leaving me staring after him, dumbfounded.
This kid had known me for one hour, and he had me pegged. If I wasn’t fooling him, who was I fooling? Only myself. I had spoken the truth. I had been hiding who I was for far too long, and there was no reason for it, other than my own fear and insecurities. As far as my family was concerned, I had nothing to lose.
It didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t ready. The thought of putting any kind of label on myself or on what Brody and I shared filled me with anxiety. And here at the ranch, the complications had grown tenfold. April was falling for us, and we were falling for her.
And I didn’t know what to do about any of it.
Chapter 16
April
Everyone dispersed after dinner, as they often did. Nan liked to turn on the news in the family room and watch it without the sound on while she crocheted. She was currently working on something for Merry’s baby, but I knew it wouldn’t be too long before she started in on her Christmas stash, even though it was barely March.
Blake, Slade and Merry disappeared to the gate house. They were fixing it up as a place for the three of them to live after the baby came.
Brody had headed into town, making noises about needing to “replenish his stash”, whatever that meant.
And Mitch, well, Mitch had not even bothered to show up for dinner.
Something had happened today, at work, but whatever it was, Slade wasn’t talking, no matter how hard I pressed. And Slade wasn’t the type of guy you wanted to piss off, so it hadn’t taken me too long before I gave up and let it go.
Mitch was a grown man. He would come home, eventually, and when he did, maybe both he and Brody would be in a better mood.
After everyone scattered, I was left alone to clean up after dinner. Not that I minded. In a house like this one, alone time was a rare and precious commodity.
But in the silence, I still wished for Mitch or Brody to get back, and that frustrated me. Less than two weeks ago, I had barely known either of them, and now, where were we?
I plunged my hands into the sink full of soapy water and went over the week in my head, trying to pinpoint the exact minute my moral agenda had gone out the window. Suddenly, I was not only hooking up with near strangers, but two of them at a time! I was considering calling them Daddy and Sir and letting them spank me and lick my pussy and talk about fucking my ass.
But they were also taking me on trail rides and giving me backrubs and helping me bake brownies. Was it all just for show? Cause it had felt real, and fun, and delicious.
Until I had pushed for more. Until I had called them out on their issues, like they had done to me. Then, suddenly, everything had changed. And I didn’t think it was me, but in the quiet moments, it was hard not to wonder if I was wrong. With my history, it was easy to convince myself that I hadn’t waited long enough or gotten to know them at all, and that I was engaging in the same old self sabotage I was often prone to when it came to men.
“Hey, there, need some help?” The voice cut through my melancholy musings, startling me, and I turned to find one of the cowboys in question standing at the entrance to the kitchen with a sheepish grin on his face.
“I’m almost done,” I answered. “Besides, you worked all day. And you missed dinner.”
Mitch’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I wasn’t
in the mood for the big family style dinner tonight. I’m glad I caught you, though.”
One line. One simple line, that, for all I knew, could be smoke blowing up my ass, and I melted. “I’m glad, too. Are you hungry? I could fix you a plate.”
“I can make it. What was dinner?”
“Roast chicken and mashed potatoes, with Brussel sprouts. It should be all in the front there,” I said as he crossed the kitchen and pulled the fridge door open.
“Great. I’m starving.” He puttered around me, fixing his plate, while I finished up the last of the dishes and worked on getting some overnight oats into the crockpot for their breakfast tomorrow.
He had just sat down with his plate at the kitchen nook when I turned the dial to start the oats, so I sat down across from him and watched in satisfaction as he dug into his food, sighing happily every few bites.
“Man, you were hungry,” I joked, for lack of anything else to say. It saddened me, but I didn’t feel like I knew Mitch as well as I knew Brody.
“Long day,” Mitch nodded in agreement between bites of potatoes.
“Want to tell me about it? I can be a pretty good listener.”
He paused, looked up, and reached for my hand across the table. “Not yet. I’m working on it, but I’m not there yet. Lots of stuff to process through.”
“Okay. Well, why were you glad you caught me, then? Did you need something?”
“Didn’t want to be alone. Didn’t want to be around any of them. Wanted to get to know you better. Seemed like a safe bet for the evening.”
I smiled at the honesty in his answer. “I want to get to know you, too.”
“How do we go about doing that?”
“I think it needs to happen organically. Maybe we find some common ground?”
Mitch gave a wry smile. “I can think of lots of common ground we share. None of it falls into categories of things I currently want to talk about.”
We were at an impasse. This was usually the point where I would make a desperate move that would culminate in us falling into bed together. Not this time.
“Tell me about the Daddy thing. What scares you about it? Why did you wait so long to tell us that you don’t like it?”
“I do like it. Liking it isn’t the problem. I don’t really understand it, and to be honest, I’ve only experienced a small portion of the things you claim Daddies do.”
“Hmmm.” Mitch rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, that is a problem, isn’t it? Do you think if you were able to get a bigger taste of what it is like to have a Daddy, you would like it more?”
“I like it just fine!” I all but yelled, getting exasperated. “All I meant was that the Daddy title is an intimate one. You can call yourselves that all you want. You can Daddy, little girl on me all day long. I do not hate it. Not at all. Just don’t expect me to say it, because I’m just not there yet.”
Especially with you, I added silently in my head, but I didn’t say it. Mitch definitely had more Daddy qualities than Brody did. I just hadn’t seen them yet.
“Well, there’s an idea for how we can get to know each other,” Mitch suggested. “I could show you how Daddies like to take care of their little girls.”
My interest piqued, but I was still skeptical. “Does it involve sex or spanking?”
“No sex.” Mitch laughed. “But it could involve a nice, hot bubble bath, if you’re open to it. And spanking is only ever involved if you choose to be naughty.”
“I could maybe do a bubble bath. Tell me more.”
“How about I show you?” Mitch’s smile was full of mischief as he stood and offered his hand.
No sooner did I take it, than I found myself cradled in his arms like a baby.
“Mitch!” I cried, smacking his shoulder as he made his way through the house. “Put me down now! You don’t need to carry me; I can walk!”
“Sure, you can walk, but what’s the fun in that?” he questioned, his eyes sparkling as he grinned down at me. “Now hush and let me carry you, and stop hitting me, or you’re going to find yourself thrown over my shoulder with my hand upon your backside, if you catch my drift.”
I caught it. I caught it and considered it. To be honest, I was about to argue and smack him again, when we reached the door to my room. I was out of time.
When my feet hit the floor, I was nervous and self-conscious, unsure of what to expect.
It didn’t show as often as Brody’s, but Mitch had a dominant side, and it came out now.
Soft brown eyes bore into me as he lifted my shirt over my head and discarded it quickly on the floor beside us. My bra was next, and unlike most guys, he didn’t even hesitate or fumble when it came to unhooking it. Then his hands found my waist and sat there for a moment, just holding me. When he looked into my eyes, it took my breath away.
I wanted to lean in for a kiss, but I was frozen on the spot, unable to look away from him. When I finally recovered, his hands were already working the buttons on my jeans. His gaze never wavered from mine as he slowly worked the fabric down my legs over my knees and down to my feet, pausing for me to step out of them.
I stood there waiting, shivering, as there was a chill in the room. Finally, he spoke.
“Panties, too,” he instructed. “You can’t wear them into the tub.”
This time, taking them off was up to me, and I slid them off, slowly giving a little shimmy when I noticed him watching. Now I was standing there completely naked. Mitch retrieved my robe from the back of the bathroom door and wrapped it over my shoulders, helping me into it.
“I’m going to run your bath now, baby girl. Sit here and be good,” he said before he disappeared.
I could hear the water running and the sounds of him tinkering around in the bathroom. I had no idea what to expect, but I already felt very cared for. Not to mention, incredibly turned on. Every nerve in my body was on high alert as I waited for his return.
When he came back, he insisted on carrying me the few feet into the bathroom. It was ridiculously silly, but I let him. When he pushed the door open, my jaw dropped as I took in the sensual scene.
The lights were dimmed, and candles twinkled in various spots around the room and the edge of the tub. Low music played, something soft and romantic and instrumental. Fluffy towels waited in a pile near the tub, which overflowed with bubbles.
He set me down in front of him and slowly, almost reverently, eased the robe off my shoulders. I half expected he’d lift me up again and physically place me into the waiting tub, but he simply hung up the robe and waved towards the bath, indicating that I should get in.
The water was warm, and the bubbles gave it that soft, soapy feeling that coated my skin. I eased in and leaned back against the tile.
“So, this bath thing?” I smiled seductively at him. “Do you get in with me or just sit there like a creeper and watch?”
Mitch rolled his eyes and slowly began to unbutton his shirt. “I could get in with you,” he answered. “If you wanted me to.”
My eyes were glued on his chest as he slowly revealed it inch by inch, button by button.
“I do,” I said simply, watching him strip.
When the last article of clothing was gone, I leaned forward in the tub, giving him room to climb in behind me.
The feeling of his stomach against my back as I eased into the space between his legs with only bubbles to separate us was incredibly intimate and highly erotic. I had never bathed with a man before. Shower quickies? Sure. But nothing like this. It was a whole different ballgame.
Leaning back against his chest, I smiled up at him. “Well, this is nice.”
“You like this, do you?” His voice was a soft purr as his hands massaged my breasts.
“Mmmhmm,” I murmured.
“Baby girl, we’re just getting started.”
My mouth went dry and my pussy tingled. I arched my back, pushing up against his tight chest and pushing his erection against my bottom.
It might be silly, but
this was exactly the type of moment I had been wanting to share with Mitch. No, it was better.
Mitch seemed amused by my eagerness. “Hey there, baby girl, does that feel good?”
“Mmmm.” I grabbed frantically at his hand, trying to place it at my core. I wanted to feel him, his fingers, his cock, anything. I needed that closeness.
“Slow down, little one. Daddy needs to wash you. Get you all nice and squeaky clean.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to argue that I was clean, that I had showered after dinner. But I understood that this was a control thing. He wanted to show me the caring, non sexual side of a Daddy Dom, and I needed to let him.
I sagged against him, expelling a deep breath as I relaxed my body, trying to extinguish the sexual urgency I was feeling.
“Close your eyes, little one.”
I did. Mitch must have grabbed a washcloth and soap, because he started gently massaging my neck and shoulders with a wet cloth that was slippery with soap. I moaned when he reached my breasts, giving them the same treatment with even more attention. His long fingers made circles around my nipples as he whispered in my ear.
So much for decreased sexual urgency. When he moved to my belly, I groaned with built up need. Tonight was not about sex, I reminded myself.
Mitch
I was going to have to draw every ounce of strength I had to keep my promise that tonight was not about sex. Especially if she kept trying to change my mind.
But there were issues between us, and sex was not the answer. Bonding was. Maybe this had not been the wisest bonding choice, but it was too late to go back now.
I washed her torso as far as my arms would reach, avoiding her womanly mound with deliberate precision as I slowly teased and massaged all the areas around it. The vee between her legs, the curve of her hips, all around her bikini line. She squirmed and whined as I teased and tortured, but she did not attempt to move my hand or beg me to do more.
When I had done all I could reach, I handed her the washcloth. “Turn around to face me.”