The entire table falls into silence. Deathly silence. It’s so quiet, it’s eery. Stuart’s eyes widen notably. My heart thuds uncomfortably. Too hard and too fast. So hard and so fast it feels like it’s fixing to punch a hole through my sternum. I take a huge gulp of air, but it does nothing to help. I squeeze my eyes shut and will this entire night to go away. It doesn’t. When I open them, everything and everyone is right where I left them. Blinking, mouths open, staring at me. Without thinking, I do the only thing I can. The only thing that makes sense. I make a mad dash for Stuart and throw myself onto his lap and into his arms, tucking my face into his chest, curling up and hiding my face in his bulk.
His arms wrap around me tightly, warming me, steadying me. Keeping me safe.
“Told you,” Wyn slurs, pointing his wine glass at me unsteadily, sloshing a splash of cabernet onto the table.
“You’ve got a Daddy, Gouldie?” asks Trouble, his tone light and notably without judgment. “That’s nice. Didn’t I say that’s what he needed?” he asks Will and Mat. “Didn’t I?”
“Uh, actually, I think I was the one who said that’s what he needed,” replies Will.
A soft ripple of laughter undoes some of the tension in the room, but not all of it. Trouble decides to take matters into his own hands, saving me by changing the subject, but not changing it nearly as much as I’d like him to.
“Okay,” he trills, “ I have a question…Luke and Jessie—who’s the Daddy in your relationship, and why is it Jessie?”
“I could be a dad,” says a tipsy, slightly indignant Luke. “I’d be a great dad.”
“Not a dad, Blue,” Jessie explains patiently. “ADaddy.”
“Oh.” Luke’s bottom jaw drops open and then closes quickly, and his top lip quirks as if that distinction makes no difference at all. “I could be a Daddy if I want.” He leans in, crowding Jessie with his mass. “I could beyourDaddy if I want to be.”
Everyone laughs as Luke paws Jessie, kissing his neck and pulling him up against him. Jessie squirms, laughing and pretending to try to get away. He bats Luke’s hand away, and then his eyes meet Luke’s, and his expression goes vacant.
“Blue,” he whispers, “can we go ho—?”
“Don’t you dare, Jessie Lewis!” Trouble cuts Jessie off mid-sentence. “Don’t even think about it.No one’sgoing home. Everyone’s staying right where they are, and we’reallhaving dessert.”
“Okay, okay. Ugh, fine, Trouble,” groans Jessie. “If you insist, I’ll stay. But if I do, I have a question for you guys, and you have to answer honestly…Will, Mat, and Trouble, who’s the Daddy inyourrelationship, and why is it Will?”
Wyn, Will, Mat, and Luke hoot.
Trouble screeches in outrage. “Who says it’s Will? Who said that? It’sme! It’sobviouslyme!” Everyone roars at that, which only spurs Trouble on. “Ofcourseit’s me!” He takes a deep breath and collects himself, speaking slowly as if he’s talking to a bunch of halfwits. “You people know nothing. Being a Daddy is like being a slut—” He pauses dramatically, letting the gravity of what he’s about to say sink in.
I quiver with nerves, but Stuart’s broad chest rumbles against mine. “This should be good,” he murmurs into my hair.
Everyone turns their attention to Trouble, waiting expectantly. He preens, basking under the glow of undivided attention. He flicks his hair over both shoulders and gives a cute little wiggle before delivering his line with aplomb, “—it’s a state of mind.”
“Hmph,” says Stuart, shrugging one shoulder, trying not to laugh as he raises his glass to Trouble. “You’re not wrong there.”
Will smiles and kisses Trouble full on the lips. “Settle down, Pretty Boy,” he drawls.
“Yeah,” adds Mat, smiling even bigger than Will, “settle down, Pretty Boy…or you’ll have two Daddies by the time the sun comes up tomorrow.”
A long time later, everyone is ready to leave. Luke crushes the ever-loving shit out of me at the door. Big arms squeeze tightly around my neck. I hold on to him, waiting patiently for Jessie to peel him off me. He doesn’t. Instead, he drapes an arm loosely around Luke and me, leaning his forehead close to both of ours. Before I start thinking I’m dreaming, I hear his voice, raspy and soft, “Happy for you, bro.”
Stuart and I watch as their Ubers pull out of the drive. He waves and lets out a contented sigh as we head back into the house.
“Can I help you clean up, Daddy?”
He turns on me and gives me a boner-inducing smile. One of those heated ones. One of those ones he makes sure I really, really feel. One of those that only curl one side of his lips and make his eyes simmer.
“You can help me, little boy,” he says softly, “but not like that. I’ll sort all this out. You’ve done enough down here. You can help me by going upstairs, taking all your clothes off, and waiting for me. I want you on my bed. Naked and on your hands and knees.” His chin tilts down, making my dick pulse. “Back arched and legs spread as wide as you can spread ‘em, okay?”
I nod with the gusto of a bobblehead doll being shaken hard.
“When you hear me coming upstairs, I want you to take the plug out. Ease it out, okay? I want you to do itslowlyandcarefully.” He drags the words out, smiling sweetly even though I know it’s a warning. “No one hurts that little hole but me.”
25
Stuart
