Jericho loved him so much sometimes it felt like his heart might burst out of his chest and sear itself to his husbands. He briefly closed the distance between them one more time, grabbing his face and pressing quick little kisses over whatever skin he could reach. Lips, cheeks, nose, jaw, nothing was safe.
Finally Atticus pushed him away for a second time, with more force, skin adorably pink and ears burning red. “Go. Shower,” he demanded, breathing a little heavier.
“Okay. Okay,” Jericho said, sullenly. “But only if you tell me you love me.”
Atticus rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched upwards. “I love you.”
“And that you’re mine,” he murmured.
Atticus’s eyes roamed Jericho’s face as he said, “Don’t bestupid. You know I’m yours. Only yours.”
Jericho leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Tell me how much you love my huge di?—”
“Daddy!” Jagger shouted, cutting him off.
Jericho huffed. “I love our kids, but they’re such cockblocks.”
“You weren’t gonna get laid anyway. Go shower, Go,” he said with a laugh when Jericho still hesitated. “I’ll go see what the kids need, then I’ll order the pizza.”
Jericho groped Atticus’s ass one more time. “Promise me you’ll at least let me get you off later, as an apology?”
“Fine,” Atticus said like he was doing Jericho another favor. “Now go or I’ll change my mind and blue ball you for a month.”
“As if you could stay off this that long,” he said, palming himself through his pants.
“Daddy!” Jett shrieked.
“Duty calls,” Atticus muttered.
“Be right back,” Jericho promised, giving him an encouraging slap on the ass. “Love you, princess.”
Atticus glowered at him, but still mumbled. “I love you, too.”
“I know,” he said with a grin, backing out of the kitchen before Atticus could throw something at him.
He headed into their bathroom whistling a Christmas carol, once more feeling like the luckiest man to be alive.
ARLO
“Hey, sexy.”
“Hi, baby,” Arlo said, warmth pooling in his belly at his boyfriend’s low crooning voice. The one he saved just for him. Well…and sometimes Beans. But mostly Arlo.
He propped his phone up beside the sink, noting the sound of Dimitri’s car running and the road noise that told him he was driving. He must have his phone mounted on the dashboard.
Arlo stuck his gloved hands back into the now lukewarm water, timidly running the sponge around the mixing bowl.
At the sound of Dimitri’s voice, Beans hopped up onto the counter, poking his nose against the screen and yowling pitifully. Dimitri made silly kissy noises to the cat, earning another desperate wail, the beastalmost knocking the phone over as he flopped onto his back, his large body oozing over the counter like proofing dough.
Arlo scoffed at the orange and white cat, now monopolizing a large portion of the countertop, giving his fiancé a face so pathetic he half expected Sarah McGlochlan to start singing about angels any moment. Their cat was shameless. He truly thought he could trick Dimitri into disbelieving his own eyes; that he was wasting away despite tipping the scales at a whopping twenty-two pounds.
“He’s lying to you,” Arlo told his fiancé, nudging the enormous cat off the counter onto the wooden floor. The cat narrowed his feline gaze at him, then turned and waddled away, tail flickering in agitation. “He ate and Java did, too.”
The dog perked up at the sound of her name, yawning, then standing to walk in a circle three times before settling back into her bed once more. It was warm in the kitchen, but Java didn’t care. She was never more than three feet from Arlo.
“I told you not to feed her until I got home. You know I don’t like you going out to walk her after dark all alone,” Dimitri chided.
“We don’t live in a bad neighborhood anymore,” Arlo reminded him. “And Lake walked her for me on his break.”
