That was little Emmett Moore whose ass he’d been staring at just a second ago. Rooster couldn’t decide if he should be horrified or laughing. What were the chances that he and Erik’s little brother would both end up sucked into the Devil’s Hands club? Well, him a little more thoroughly than Emmett, but he had to be the “supersweet” roommate Viper had been going on about for months.
His cut felt heavy on his shoulders as he took another step forward, eyes running over Emmett’s curvy little body all on their own. He’d always been shorter than the other Moore siblings and a little rounder, more interested in indoor activities than the sports his parents had shoved the others into. Rooster had heard from Erik earlier that year about some family get-together the Moores had done and how annoying he’d found it that Emmett still wouldn’t play when the family put together a pickup game of basketball or touch football.
Erik’s complaints had grated on Rooster’s nerves, but he’d held his tongue because it wasn’t his family, despite how muchtime he’d spent with the Moores growing up. But staring into Emmett’s shocked eyes, his soft little body covered in a fucking Snoopy Christmas sweater, real anger stirred in his gut at the way his own brother had spoken about him. But Rooster shoved that aside and smiled, wondering how it was Emmett had managed to get even cuter than he’d been the last time he’d seen him.
“Hey, Emmett.”
Six’s boy, Ollie, was looking back and forth between them like they were a high-stakes tennis match. “How do you know Rooster, Em?”
“Rooster?” Emmett’s button nose scrunched up adorably, but he didn’t look away from Rooster’s face.
“That’s his club name,” Knuckles said from behind Emmett, chuckling and waggling his eyebrows in a ridiculous way when he caught Rooster’s gaze.
“Oh, right.” Emmett’s pale skin blushed hot pink, and his golden-brown eyes dropped to the floor.
Rooster frowned, not liking not having his gaze on him, but Ollie piped up helpfully with “Six says it’s because he has a big?—”
“Ollie!” CJ said, hurrying around the table and shooting the brat a disapproving look.
Emmett’s head jerked back up, lips parting in shock. His eyes dropped to Rooster’s groin and then away again, just as fast. His round cheeks flushed an even darker red. Fuck, he was adorable.
Rooster was so screwed.
And he was going to have a talk with Six about telling his boy about his damn dick.
“That’s not necessary,” CJ was saying, grabbing Ollie’s arm and dragging him away. “Howdoyou two know each other though?”
When it seemed like Emmett couldn’t say anything, Rooster offered without looking away from those flushed cheeks, “Emmett’s brother, Erik, and I were best friends growing up. I practically lived at the Moore house.”
“Huh. Small world.” CJ smiled at him, keeping his hold on Ollie until they were on the other side of the cookie-covered table to give him and Emmett some space. Tank’s boy was sweet like that.
Knuckles shot him a wink before disappearing back into the kitchen. No one else seemed to be around, so Rooster closed about half the distance between the two of them, but that still left them more than an arm’s length apart.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he finally offered, hoping to break the ice and get Emmett to look at him again instead of the hem of the apron he was worrying between his fingers.
Emmett flinched and took a step back, bumping into a box on the floor. “I can leave. Roni said it was okay that I come and help with the cookies, but if I’d known this was your club… I’m sorry. Is it too weird for you?”
His soft, sweet voice tickled at Rooster’s newly discovered dominant instincts. He’d always had the urge to care for his partners—sometimes in ways they didn’t appreciate but felt natural to him—but it wasn’t until the club’s VP, Houston, started his kink classes that he realized what was driving his needs. Being a Dom—a daddy, no less—was something hehadn’t had words for most of his life, but now that he did, he knew what he wanted and needed.
And he was getting better at spotting subs out in the wild.
“You don’t have to be sorry, and you definitely don’t have to leave, Emmett. It’s not weird for me.”
He peeked a look up at him. “Are you sure?”
Fuck, he looked like… Rooster shook off the thought. There was no way he’d bethatlucky. Even with the Snoopy sweater and superhero apron. “I’m positive. I’d love for you to stay so we could catch up.”
Emmett beamed up at him, dimples appearing in his cheeks.Damn, had he always had those? “Are you going to help too?”
Rooster eyed the setup on the table. There were… a lot of cookies needing to be frosted. When he turned back to Emmett, some of his enthusiasm had waned at Rooster’s hesitation.
“It’s okay. I’m sure you have other things you need to do.” Emmett nodded at Rooster’s chest, where a patch that readRoosterwas sewn on his pec andSecretaryunderneath that. “Um, club things.”
He’d been planning on talking to Tomas about a scheduling issue so it would be resolved before Church on Monday, but it wasn’t urgent. The only urgent thing he had to do was try and make Emmett flash those dimples at him again. “I can hang out for a bit. I doubt I’ll be any good at decorating the cookies though.”
There they were.
Emmett beamed, the little divots in his cheeks tempting Rooster in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. “That’s okay. I’ll help you.”
