across his face as he leans into the
table. “Then someone obviously isn’t doing it right,” he challenges. “Allow me
to demonstrate.” Throwing his head back, he clutches the edge of the table with
both hands. “Oh! Ah! That’s it, baby. Take it all!” Hunter screams in a high
pitched, Oscar winning, porn star voice. Thrusting his hips, he slams into the
table again and again. “Oh! Oh! Oh! L, M, N, Ohhhhhhhh!” Breathing heavily, he
falls back into his chair, with a grunt. “And that, lovers, fuckers, and cock
suckers, is how it’s done.”
“There’s
no O in anal,” I say, leaning against the doorjamb. Henry sits at the head of
the table, in his usual spot. Rae sitting sideways in his lap, with her legs
dangling over the arm of the chair while his hand moves protectively over her
swollen belly while he stares off into space.
“Excuse
me?” Hunter asks, getting my attention again. His entire body stills in shock.
Looking up at me, both eyes widen and his jaw goes completely slack.
“Seriously, am I the only one with a cock that knows how to use it?”
“Alright,”
Chase says, pushing to her feet. “We gotta bring it down to a child friendly
level since Jazzie’s home. I don’t think we need her doing the alphabet song,
Cunter style, for show and tell tomorrow.” Making her way around the table, she
scans the room. “Where is she?”
“Probably
hiding under the stairwell, eating my damn cookies,” I mumble, kicking myself
for letting her get her hands on that box.
Chase’s
eyes fix on me, along with Hunter’s and Rae’s, all three sets narrowing.
“What’s the rule, Deuce?” Hunter asks, grabbing the beer bottle off the table
in front of him and tipping it to his lips.
“Yeah,
I know,” I reply, flipping him off. “If the sugar keeps ‘er up past nine for
the night, she’s all mine,” I murmur. “I’m buying that kid a giant hamster
wheel and tying a fucking box of Chips Ahoy just out of reach.”
“Hey!”
Hunter shouts, pointing his beer bottle at me. “Amazon has those, I bet.” He
grins, arching a brow. “I bet it would be cool as hell to fu—”
“Daddy!”
Jazzie shouts, barreling into the room like a runaway train. Her excited
screams, are barely muffled by the damn dog going bat shit at her feet. Bit’s
brown fur matted to his body by frosting handprints. “Mack took me to Happy Hut,”
she exclaims, leaping into his lap and wrapping her arms around him.
“Hey,”
Hunter breathes, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Have fun?”
“Duh,”
she says, fumbling around in his lap so she can face him head on. He winces,
the breath rushing out of him as he helps her get settled without crippling him
with her knees. “We saw Ireland, too. Her tire broke and now she’s my best
frannnnnnnd. We played games, and I got cotton candy, and Marina helped me
carry the tray, because Ireland says Mack spends too much time on his knees.”
Aiden
chokes, spraying a mouthful of beer across the table at the girls, who scream
and dive for napkins. “Wait, what?”
“Um,”
I stammer. I can feel my face turning red under everyone’s very amused gazes.
The entire room waiting for my explanation as to where that interesting little
comment came from. All except Aiden, who is damn close to coughing up a lung on
his boots.
“Ireland?”
Henry asks, suddenly taking an interest in the conversation. “As in our
Ireland?”
“Nope,”
I reply, shaking my head. “After I picked the kid up from school, we hopped a
plane to Dublin and hit the pubs. Had a few pints, danced a jig or two. Hell,
we auditioned for Riverdance before hopping the red-eye home.”
“Annnnd
on that note…” Wrapping his arms around Jazzie, Hunter stands to his feet. “I
think you need a bath, kid. After that, how about we get you something to eat
that isn’t ninety-percent sugar and we can see if you have any homework in your
folder?”
“Aw,
come on,” Jazz whines, pressing her face into
table. “Then someone obviously isn’t doing it right,” he challenges. “Allow me
to demonstrate.” Throwing his head back, he clutches the edge of the table with
both hands. “Oh! Ah! That’s it, baby. Take it all!” Hunter screams in a high
pitched, Oscar winning, porn star voice. Thrusting his hips, he slams into the
table again and again. “Oh! Oh! Oh! L, M, N, Ohhhhhhhh!” Breathing heavily, he
falls back into his chair, with a grunt. “And that, lovers, fuckers, and cock
suckers, is how it’s done.”
“There’s
no O in anal,” I say, leaning against the doorjamb. Henry sits at the head of
the table, in his usual spot. Rae sitting sideways in his lap, with her legs
dangling over the arm of the chair while his hand moves protectively over her
swollen belly while he stares off into space.
“Excuse
me?” Hunter asks, getting my attention again. His entire body stills in shock.
Looking up at me, both eyes widen and his jaw goes completely slack.
“Seriously, am I the only one with a cock that knows how to use it?”
“Alright,”
Chase says, pushing to her feet. “We gotta bring it down to a child friendly
level since Jazzie’s home. I don’t think we need her doing the alphabet song,
Cunter style, for show and tell tomorrow.” Making her way around the table, she
scans the room. “Where is she?”
“Probably
hiding under the stairwell, eating my damn cookies,” I mumble, kicking myself
for letting her get her hands on that box.
Chase’s
eyes fix on me, along with Hunter’s and Rae’s, all three sets narrowing.
“What’s the rule, Deuce?” Hunter asks, grabbing the beer bottle off the table
in front of him and tipping it to his lips.
“Yeah,
I know,” I reply, flipping him off. “If the sugar keeps ‘er up past nine for
the night, she’s all mine,” I murmur. “I’m buying that kid a giant hamster
wheel and tying a fucking box of Chips Ahoy just out of reach.”
“Hey!”
Hunter shouts, pointing his beer bottle at me. “Amazon has those, I bet.” He
grins, arching a brow. “I bet it would be cool as hell to fu—”
“Daddy!”
Jazzie shouts, barreling into the room like a runaway train. Her excited
screams, are barely muffled by the damn dog going bat shit at her feet. Bit’s
brown fur matted to his body by frosting handprints. “Mack took me to Happy Hut,”
she exclaims, leaping into his lap and wrapping her arms around him.
“Hey,”
Hunter breathes, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Have fun?”
“Duh,”
she says, fumbling around in his lap so she can face him head on. He winces,
the breath rushing out of him as he helps her get settled without crippling him
with her knees. “We saw Ireland, too. Her tire broke and now she’s my best
frannnnnnnd. We played games, and I got cotton candy, and Marina helped me
carry the tray, because Ireland says Mack spends too much time on his knees.”
Aiden
chokes, spraying a mouthful of beer across the table at the girls, who scream
and dive for napkins. “Wait, what?”
“Um,”
I stammer. I can feel my face turning red under everyone’s very amused gazes.
The entire room waiting for my explanation as to where that interesting little
comment came from. All except Aiden, who is damn close to coughing up a lung on
his boots.
“Ireland?”
Henry asks, suddenly taking an interest in the conversation. “As in our
Ireland?”
“Nope,”
I reply, shaking my head. “After I picked the kid up from school, we hopped a
plane to Dublin and hit the pubs. Had a few pints, danced a jig or two. Hell,
we auditioned for Riverdance before hopping the red-eye home.”
“Annnnd
on that note…” Wrapping his arms around Jazzie, Hunter stands to his feet. “I
think you need a bath, kid. After that, how about we get you something to eat
that isn’t ninety-percent sugar and we can see if you have any homework in your
folder?”
“Aw,
come on,” Jazz whines, pressing her face into
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