Harrison took a swig from his beer bottle and looked toward the fireplace. “You know, when you wrap your woodpile with Christmas lights, it kinda defeats the purpose of having a fireplace.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “I think it’s pretty.”
He nodded. “It is. I think I’m going to steal the idea for the house. Do you know that your brother has no Christmas decorations?”
“What?” How the hell could that be? He’d lived in his house for over a decade. There was no way my brother didn’t have Christmas decorations.
Harrison nodded at nothing in particular. “Yeah. I went to get them out of the shed after Thanksgiving dinner and there wasn’t a single decoration. I asked him about it and it turns out that he doesn’t have any.”
I took a swig of my beer as I mulled the statement over in my head. “How is that even possible?”
“Poppy!” Carter’s voice echoed through the house. “Poppy! Jack took my crayon!”
Colt shook his head. “Carter, you two should be getting showers, not coloring,” he called up the steps.
“Pop, Carter has marker on his face,” Lydia all so helpfully called down from the steps.
Harrison laughed. “Dude, Colt, I know your sperm fertilized that egg, but he’s so much like Dare at that age it’s scary.”
Colt sighed. “He sure as shit didn’t get it from me.”
“That’s not what your mom says,” I teased as I moved to stand up to go figure out what happened.
Colt stilled me with a hand on my arm. “I’ll get them. You guys have barely had a second to breathe this week. I’ll be very thankful when whatever this phase is finally ends.”
Harrison laughed and pointed at my hand where I’d been jotting notes down while we were in the studio. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
Colt’s answering groan was good-natured. “Am I going to have to scrub you extra well tonight?”
“If I’d known that I was going to get extra attention, I’d have written notes somewhere else.”
Harrison snorted his beer and almost fell out of his chair laughing. “Damn, only you two. Only you two.”
I watched my husband shaking his head at me as he climbed the steps. “You’re trouble,” he called out as he reached the top, and I wasn’t sure if he was talking about me or Carter. Five-year-olds were hell. Then again every age with Carter had been a new form of torture. He’d had broken bones, stitches, and more close calls than the other two combined, and that was just this year.
“You ready for Christmas? I mean, aside from the lack of decorations?” Harrison, my brother, Jasper, and their boyfriend, Greg, had been engaged for nearly a year but had yet to find time to have a commitment ceremony. When Greg’s oldest daughter told them that she’d be in Oklahoma on Christmas Day for a layover, they’d decided Christmas was the perfect time to get married. Harrison and I had stopped at the jewelers in Nashville on the way home that night to pick up their rings, and I might have been a bit jealous of them. The rings were a gorgeous black metal with a black walnut inlay. The wood had come from a branch of a tree on Harrison’s property where Greg had proposed to them. The inside of each band was a different color, and the jeweler had etched the thumbprints of the other two on each ring. They were unique and gorgeous and so perfectly suited for them it was kind of sickening.
Harrison tipped the last of his beer back and stood to grab us new ones. “Honestly, I’m so fucking ready. I never thought I’d be one to marry. After all the shit I’d been through with Neil and the fact that he’d sworn up and down he would never get married and cave to a pointless institution, it seems a bit surreal to be at this point.”
He returned and handed me an open beer. “Neil was an ass. And for what it’s worth, I think it’s totally fucking awesome that after all these years, we’re going to be related.”
Harrison’s cheeks rose with a smile I couldn’t fully see behind his beard. “That’s wild. Growing up, it would have been impossible to be at this point.”
I’d opened my mouth to ask him if he had any plans for his bachelor’s party, but before I could say anything, a blur of pink flew by me and straight into Harrison’s arms. The force of Lydia’s impact nearly toppled the chair backward. “Uncle Harrison!” she squealed as though she hadn’t just seen him a week earlier.
“Hey, kid.” He wrapped large arms around her and smiled. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
She shook her head and laughed. “I’m going to Gramma’s house once my brothers are done in the shower. Pop’s gonna be scrubbing Carter for the rest of the night.”
I winced. I didn’t know if I wanted to know what my youngest son had gotten into, but I knew I had to ask. “What markers did Carter get into?”
She shrugged. “Just the normal school ones… but he made his face look like a clown.”
I groaned and Harrison laughed. “Not helping,” I scolded my best friend. We’d been so busy lately, it had been days since I’d had any little time, aside from our bedtime routine. With the kids heading to my in-laws and Harrison as the only other person in the house that night, I was desperate for time to simply forget everything. If Colt was exhausted from the kids, though, I didn’t know if it would happen.
Harrison laughed again. “Sorry, Dare. I’m sure your plans won’t be foiled.”
Twenty minutes later, thundering footsteps down the stairs drew our attention away from the Christmas cartoon we’d been watching with Lydia. Two freshly showered and dressed boys were charging down the steps at a startling speed. It didn’t matter how often we yelled at them to walk or hold the handrail—the two never learned. They always got a stern warning while I usually ended up over Daddy’s lap while he reddened my backside. Sprain my ankle one time over a decade earlier and I still got spanked for it… not that I hadn’t purposely “forgotten” to use the handrails a number of times over the years.
Tires crunched on the gravel outside our house and the kids nearly toppled us to get to the door. I saw where we ranked compared to their grandparents and was still laughing to myself as I made it to the door they’d left hanging open.
“Hey, Derek.” Cheryl greeted me with a smile as she watched the kids scramble to climb into her car. “You guys ready for a quiet night?”
I met her at the bottom step of the porch. “You have no idea. You know you can send them back if they’re too wound up. Hopefully they’ll conk out on you before long; they’ve got school in the morning.”
Cheryl hugged me tight. “I know my son is laid back now, but he and his brother were once just as insane as these guys.”
I’d heard stories, but it was hard to imagine Sheriff Westfield ever being as crazy as my kids.
“We’ll be fine, Derek,” she assured me, then looked up and waved to Colt, who’d just made it to the door. His shirt and jeans were still wet, and he looked thankful to see his mom.
“You can take them whenever you want,” Colt said as he joined us at the sidewalk. He dwarfed his mom in size but still greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. They need out of the house—badly. They’re driving us nuts.”
“I used to call your Nan and say the exact same thing about you and Mitch.”
Colt let out a belly laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Mitch and I were pure angels!”
Cheryl snorted and patted him on the cheek. “You keep telling yourself that, baby. Just keep telling yourself that. We’ll see you guys after school tomorrow!” She waved as she headed back toward the car. “Stay warm, boys. It’s cold tonight!” She giggled to herself as she climbed into her car. “Not that I think you’ll have any problems figuring out how to stay warm.” Colt and I both groaned but called goodbyes as we watched her turn around in the driveway.
I sank into Colt’s embrace. It was about damn time we had a night to ourselves… well, mostly to ourselves. Harrison didn’t really count.
“Come on, buddy, let’s get you wiped down. You smell like beer.”
And just like that, the adult world started to fade away; my giggle was softer, I blushed easier, and Colt became Daddy in the blink of an eye. Then Daddy reached out and grabbed my hand to lead me into the house.
As we walked between the living room and kitchen, Harrison slid my train sippy cup across the granite counter. “I’ll make a snack while your Daddy gets you ready for bed.”
Daddy grinned. “Thanks, Harrison. It’s great to have an extra set of hands around here.”
Harrison was already turning around to dig through the fridge, and we were on our way into the bathroom.
“What have I told you about writing on yourself?” Daddy asked as he scrubbed my hands under the warm water.
I laughed—the feel of the water and Daddy’s fingers scrubbing against my palms tickled. “That I should use paper?”
“And didn’t I make sure you had a notebook with you today?”
I nodded my head.
“And where was it?”
“In my pocket.”
“Why didn’t you write on it? You had to reach in your pocket to get the pen.”
I figured telling him that writing on my hand was just more convenient wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Um, because when I’m in the recording booth, it’s easier to look at my hand than a piece of paper?”
Daddy sighed. “Buddy, you have paper everywhere in there.”
He finished rinsing my hands and studied them. I couldn’t see anything, but I knew better than to say anything. I wanted to enjoy my toys that night, not end up spanked and heading to bed. There were many nights I’d take a spanking over toys, but not after I’d been stuck in big mode for days.
A kiss was placed to my temple. “Good boy. Now let’s go get you ready for bed.”
I bounced a little. “Train PJs?”
“Yes, buddy, train PJs.”
“Yay!” I cheered, and I realized I’d been too loud when my voice echoed off the walls of the bathroom.
Daddy just chuckled as he led me to the bedroom to strip me and get me into my pajamas. Not even ten minutes later, I was waddling toward the living room, diaper taped around my waist and wearing my favorite train pajamas. Heading over to our Christmas tree with a train running around it, I sank down by the control panel. “Can I turn the train on, Daddy?”
“Carefully,” Daddy agreed, watching me closely as I flicked the train on. As I settled back to watch it, Harrison appeared beside me with a snack of crackers and an applesauce packet. He knew Daddy well enough to know not to give me anything sticky, or maybe he just knew that anything he gave me remotely near sticky would end up all over me.
Harrison took a seat across from Daddy on the couch and the two began to chat. They could talk all night, which was fine with me. My train sounded a lot more interesting. We didn’t have to be in Nashville until ten the next morning, and for all I cared they could stay up all night. I found my coloring books—the Christmas-themed ones that had come out with our decorations earlier in the week—and tucked my legs under me, ready to lose myself for the rest of the evening.
I’d colored two pages before my legs started to get sore. I clicked off the train, put my crayons and coloring books away, then headed over to the couch with my sippy cup and curled up between Daddy and Harrison. Daddy’s big arm wrapped around my body and he rubbed my shoulder. “How about a show?”
Mmm, a cartoon sounded nice. “Blankie,” I mumbled as my thumb made its way to my mouth. I didn’t know how I’d left it in our room, but for some reason it hadn’t been with me.
“I’ll get it,” Harrison mentioned as he stood up. “I need another beer anyway.”
With anyone else it would have been awkward to have him enter our bedroom. Even the kids knew to knock and wait for one of us to answer the door. There was too much of my little stuff in there for me to be able to hide it. Before we had kids, I’d had my own room for little things, but now they were relegated to our bedroom and no matter how big it was, they were obvious.
Harrison had seen it all, though. He’d made me bottles at night while we were on tour, he’d seen me diapered, seen me playing with toys, and he’d known about my blanket since we were kids. Harrison might even have known more about my little side than my brother Ty, and that was saying a lot.
Colt adjusted me so I was mostly across his lap and turned on the TV. He’d tolerated my cartoons for years, but since having kids, he’d found a few he liked to watch. I often tried to find ones we both enjoyed when I had time to watch them in the evenings. That evening I pointed at Scooby-Doo as it scrolled across the screen. It was a favorite of Harrison’s and mine, and I knew Colt didn’t mind it.
“Oh, Scooby,” Harrison mentioned as he handed me my blanket. “This is a good one too.”
Everything faded away as I watched the show, and I would’ve sworn we’d just sat down.
“Hey, buddy, you’re falling asleep.” Daddy’s voice came from above me, causing me to drag in a deep breath. Falling asleep, nothing—I’d been dead to the world, and I burrowed deeper into Daddy’s lap, pulling my blanket over my face.
Harrison’s chuckle on the other side of the couch was what finally pulled me out of my fog. “If you don’t get up now, you’re going to be bitching that you’re sore tomorrow.”
I tried to mumble around my thumb that getting old could go to hell, but a big hand came down on my padded backside. “Well, I was going to warn you about your language, but now I think we need to get you changed.”
Pushing myself up to a seated position, I growled at both Harrison and Daddy, though I got the impression I wasn’t very convincing when they both smiled at me. “Go to our room. I’ll make you a bottle.” Daddy turned to Harrison, a smile still on his face. “Once I get this one in bed, I’m going to collapse as well. We’re going to have a crazy few weeks before leaving for Oklahoma.”
Harrison yawned. “It’s late enough. I’m going to go call Greg and Jasper and head to bed. Hell, Jas will end up asleep in a bit anyway. He still gets up at the ass crack of dawn no matter what.”
Jasper was the definition of an early riser, though Harrison and Greg both said he was sleeping in more often now. Of course, sleeping in for Jasper was seven a.m., but that was practically lunchtime for the guy who used to be up before the rooster crowed.
“Go brush your teeth while I make you a bottle,” Daddy coaxed as he pushed me toward the bedroom. Even when our kids were home, this was a normal night for us. Our dynamic had become so natural to both of us that we slipped in and out of our roles without much thought. There would definitely be a day that the kids started asking questions—like why Poppy cut Daddy’s food up or why he tucked Daddy in before eleven every night—I just hoped it wasn’t for many more years.
I gave Harrison a hug, told him I’d see him in the morning, then headed toward the bedroom to brush my teeth like Daddy had told me to. It was hard to believe we’d been doing this for over a decade at this point. Since Hometown had stopped touring two years earlier, though, I couldn’t remember a night I hadn’t been diapered for bed or a twenty-four-hour period where Colt hadn’t been Daddy for at least a little bit of time.
“Come on, buddy, to bed. You’re about to fall asleep standing there.” I had no idea when I’d zoned out, but I’d finished brushing my teeth and had gotten lost in my own head. We were going to have a busy few days ahead of us before Harrison headed back to Oklahoma. Thoughts of the next few days were enough to have the real world pulling at me and my energy zapping from my body just as quickly. Bed sounded nice. Then again, so did a dry diaper.
I followed him into the bedroom and collapsed onto my side of the bed. A thumb rubbed over my creased brow. “You’re really tense.”
I nodded. “Lots on my mind.”
Daddy hummed. “I can understand that. Let’s see what we can do to help that.” In seconds I was lying in just a diaper and my train pajama top, my snug shorts tossed into the basket of clothes along the wall. I’d found my blanket again and pushed my thumb into my mouth, content to let Daddy work.
The tapes pulling from the front of my diaper was loud, but I’d become so accustomed to the sound it hardly registered in my brain. Then a cool wipe ran over my skin, wiping away all traces of wetness on me. A second wipe along my dick was what had really drew my attention to what he was doing, and blood began to head south quickly. “Mmm,” I mumbled around my thumb, my hips rising to meet his touch as my length began to harden.
“I thought you would like that, but you need to stay still if you want me to continue.”
Evil. Daddy was pure evil. I’d probably have said as much if it hadn’t been for the thumb still shoved in my mouth and the ghost of his breath over the tip of my dick. Instead of words, a long moan escaped around my thumb as I struggled to keep my hips on the bed.
“Good boy. Stay still for Daddy.” Then his tongue was on me, licking my dick from base to tip and sending shivers up my spine. All thoughts of exhaustion fled as my erection filled completely and my thoughts became a hundred percent focused on Daddy and what he was doing between my legs.
“Please,” I whispered as my free hand gripped at the pillow under my head. “Please, please, please.”
My begging had Daddy chuckling against my balls, and in turn I was struggling to stay still against the vibration of his laugh and the way his scruff tickled me. Years ago it had been dark brown but had turned gray with flecks of brown and, if possible, I found it even sexier. Though at the moment I was too frustrated to appreciate it. He was the best at driving me insane with his ministrations.
“You’re being so good for me,” he murmured against the crease of my leg before he lifted slightly and engulfed my length. He’d not quite lost his gag reflex, but he’d gotten a lot better over the years and could take all but the last few inches of me into his mouth at once.
Warm, wet heat wrapping around my cock had me gasping and my thumb pulling from my mouth so I could fist the bedding. “Oh, god. Oh, oh, yeah. There.” Sex with Colt was always something special, but at the moment it became even more special. Maybe I’d been more stressed out than I thought or maybe just more ready to let everything go and let him send me flying before bed. Whatever the reason, every nerve ending in my body was alight. Tingles ran from my scalp to my toes, yet we’d barely begun. I had no idea how I was going to stay still for him, but I’d do my damnedest to try. I needed to cum, and I needed to sleep. Hopefully cumming came before sleep because there wouldn’t be time in the morning.
His hand wrapped around my balls, rolling them gently as he sucked greedily on my dick. I knew better than to cum without permission, but if he kept that up, it was going to be hard.
“A, C, C, C, G, F—”
His lips left my dick and brown eyes looked up at me. “Buddy, what are you doing?”
“Reciting the sheet music for At Home.” Duh.
“And why are you doing that?”
“So I don’t cum.” Duh. Why else would I be reciting sheet music in the middle of sex?
Colt laughed so hard his ass hit the floor. “Twelve years and you still surprise me.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Twelve years and your lips are still magical. You told me I couldn’t move, and you haven’t given me permission to cum yet.”
“Someone’s being a brat.”
I snorted. “Someone’s being wicked.”
“What you’re telling me is that this isn’t going to last long.”
Bingo! “Yeah, not so much.”
A wicked smile crossed his face. “Five minutes, then you can cum whenever. If you cum before that, I’m putting you in the cage until we leave for Oklahoma.”
I did some quick mental math, not easy when I was rock hard and Daddy was between my legs. Five minutes and I could have more orgasms for the next… seventeen days, or seventeen days of a cage. I was going to try hard to be good. Of course, being caged was frustrating but the orgasms after were out of this world. Then again, being caged at the studio would be uncomfortable.
Daddy didn’t give me time to weigh the decision further. “Ten twenty-three. Can you make it to ten twenty-eight?” And his lips were on me again.
Dammit, it was hard to focus with his mouth wrapped around my cock. I kept watching the clock and I swore time had begun to move backward. It was all sensation: licks, sucks, breaths. My toes were curling, moans escaping my mouth, groans and grunts of pleasure filling the room. How was it only ten twenty-four?
The suction was broken and Daddy looked up from between my legs. “Harrison’s going to hear you.”
I actually laughed. “Do you forget that they were here last month and we heard them three nights in a row?”
“That guest house is sounding better and better.” He didn’t say anything else before he took me back inside his mouth.
The clock clicked over to ten twenty-five. Three more minutes. I could do this. I fisted the sheets. At least thinking about my brother having sex in my house had my orgasm pulling back from the brink just a bit, but it wasn’t going to last. Daddy was not going easy on me, and a few seconds later I was back to screaming into the room as he bobbed up and down on my dick, gagging himself on my length as he pushed me closer to the edge.
Ten twenty-six, and a finger traced my rim. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood before I shoved my thumb back into my mouth. Involuntary tears sprang to my eyes, the bite to my lip harder than I’d expected. But the finger slipping into my hole made me forget about the pain in my lip.
Ten twenty-seven. I was not going to cum yet. I had made it this far—I wasn’t going to give up now. I might have been submissive, but I was also stubborn as hell and didn’t like losing. Though I was certain the clock had become stuck on twenty-seven. Fine, I didn’t want to go there, but I started thinking about the noises Harrison, Greg, and Jasper had made while they visited. At the time, Daddy and I had laughed about it, but with Daddy’s mouth on my dick while he played with my balls, there didn’t seem to be anything that could bring me back from the edge.
My balls had drawn up tight to my body, my spine was tingling, and the world was graying at the edges. Sweat had beaded across my forehead, and my legs shook from the effort it took to not thrust off the bed. As the world faded completely away, the clock ticked over to ten twenty-eight. “Yes!” I screamed into the room as my orgasm finally crashed completely over me and my vision faded to dark spots behind my lids. “Made it,” I said, gasping after the third time my cock spasmed in Daddy’s mouth.
He adjusted his lips and swallowed everything. I collapsed onto the bed, sated, my heart pounding and my dick still twitching. Daddy pulled off slowly before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “There, now you should sleep.”
I hummed. I was going to hear from Harrison about how loud I’d been, but I couldn’t find the energy to care. I’d probably be singing a different tune the next morning while I listened to Harrison, though. Daddy stood up and grabbed a fresh diaper I hadn’t even noticed before. With expert level efficiency, he had me taped into a new one in just a few minutes and then we were snuggled into bed. He was already pulling me close before I remembered that he hadn’t cum yet.
“Daddy, you.” I shook my head, but sleep was already pulling me under. “You didn’t cum.”
He kissed my temple as he rocked his groin into my hip. He was soft, and it took too long for my brain to catch up. “Don’t worry about me, buddy. I came.”
“Oh.” A silicone nipple teased my mouth and I opened instinctively for my bottle.
“Baby, what happened to your lip?”
I chuckled, having totally forgotten about it. “I wasn’t going to cum early.” He growled, and my dick tried to twitch in my diaper. “Not fair.”
“You can’t hurt yourself in order not to cum. I should cage you for that.”
I shook my head. “No, that wasn’t part of the agreement. You just told me I couldn’t cum before ten twenty-eight. And it was an accident anyway.” I closed my lips around the nipple and hummed as the cold milk hit my mouth.
I smiled around the bottle and let my eyes drift shut.