Chapter 16
Finn
P arking in front of the house, I turn off the ignition as Tucker unbuckles his seat belt and jumps out of the car. We had a couple of errands to run before stopping at the diner in town to have a late dinner. After we finished eating, I let him talk me into going into the ice cream parlor next door and getting a treat before bed, so he’s more than a little antsy to get inside and dig in.
Ash’s car is gone; he’s been out of the house nearly all day. It’s something I really shouldn’t be wondering about, yet it would seem that everything in regard to Ash lately has me curious, and I don’t know why. The more I try not to think about him, the more it would seem he finds his way to stay front and center in my mind. It’s fucking annoying.
“Daddy, there’s a box!” Tucker announces, pointing toward the shoebox-sized package sitting on our welcome mat.
“There sure is.” Must be the replacement part I ordered for the chicken coop. Of course, the one part that breaks isn’t one they sell at the store in town. Had to order it offline and wait entirely too long for it to be delivered.
Swiping the package off the porch, I tuck it under my arm as I unlock the front door. Tucker zooms inside with the bag of ice cream hanging from his tiny hand.
“Shoes,” I call out, stopping him in his tracks before he has a chance to go into the kitchen. Groaning dramatically, he throws his head back, smacking his hand to his forehead like me making him take off his shoes is putting him out. Pinning him with a look as he drags his feet back over to the door, I tell him, “Save the dramatics, bug. You know the rules.”
He kicks them off and takes the bag out onto the back deck, sitting on the edge of the top step, not wasting any more time cracking open his cup of cotton candy ice cream. Nothing sounds more unappetizing than that, but whatever. Of course, because he’s four, and four-year-olds can’t eat ice cream without making an absolute mess, he gets it all over himself, and I have to give him a bath before getting him ready for bed. It turns into a whole big production when Bubba tries to jump in the tub with him, splashing water and bubbles all over the bathroom floor.
By the time I get him in bed, I’m ready to pass out myself. Ash still isn’t home, and it’s driving me nuts. Where the hell is he? As far as I know, he’s not with his sister. She tried texting me earlier, and I still haven’t responded. I need to do that, but… I’m not in the mood to deal with her.
Meandering out into the kitchen, I get some water, spotting the package I left on the island. With a groan, I reach into the drawer and grab the box cutter. I guess I should fix the coop now before the sun goes down. Lord knows I won’t have any time during the week to get it done. As I’m working the box open, my ears perk up at the sound of a car pulling up outside.
About fucking time he’s home.
Pulling the cardboard flap open, my heart sputters in my chest, and I manage to choke on my own spit as I take in the contents inside. My hands freeze along with my brain for a second, and when I check the name on the outside of the box, I curse under my breath.
Not the part for the chicken coop.
Not for me at all, in fact.
Fuck.
“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
My head snaps up, gaze colliding with Ash’s mismatched eyes, and my pulse races as my mouth dries. Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Not only did I open my nanny’s mail, but it is quite possibly the worst package I could’ve opened. I watch in slow motion as his gaze drops to the box in front of me, and the color drains from his face as realization must hit him. “What is that?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
“I thought it was the part I ordered for the chicken coop,” I reply instead of answering him.
His jaw clenches as his eyes meet mine again. “And is it?”
“No,” I grit out. “It is not.”
Ash’s face twists up in a way I refuse to believe is adorable. “It’s for me, isn’t it?”
Reaching a hand into the box, I pull out one of the items—a clear confetti dildo. “Well, it’s certainly not for me.”
A pained sound between a groan and a whine comes out of Ash as he takes in the dildo in my hand. “Why the fuck did you open that?” he hisses after a moment, storming over to where I’m standing and ripping it out of my hand. “It’s a felony to open somebody else’s mail, you know!”
“I just told you I didn’t realize it was for you.” Glancing into the box again, I pull out the next thing I see. I don’t know why I can’t seem to stop. This box isn’t for me, and I should be the furthest thing from curious about what Ash bought for himself, but I…can’t stop. “Are these…nipple clamps?”
“Oh my fucking gosh,” Ash groans, snatching those from me next. “This cannot be happening.”
“What the hell is this?” I ask, pulling out a clear, silicone tube-looking thing that reminds me of the jelly toys I used to play with as a kid, except longer. Ash tries to take it from me, but I step back, holding it up as I peer over at him with my head cocked. “What do you do with this?”
For fuck’s sake, stop grabbing shit from the box! What is wrong with me?
“You are not asking me that.” He scrubs a hand over his mouth before running his fingers through his hair.
“Yes, I am.” My lip twitches, and I’m realizing how much I’m enjoying making Ash squirm. Maybe that’s the real reason why I can’t seem to stop. Maybe it’s not curiosity. Maybe it’s…something else. A need to get under his skin the way he gets under mine every damn day.
Yeah, that’s it.
“Pretty sure that’s an inappropriate thing to ask your employee.”
“Pretty sure calling your employer ‘daddy’ is also inappropriate,” I counter. “This looks like a toy.”
His brows pinch. “Uh, yeah. It is a toy, obviously.”
“No. Like, a child’s toy.”
Ash snorts, biting down on his bottom lip, and I hate the way my eyes track the movement and my mouth waters at the sight. The urge that hits me to replace his teeth with mine has my heart hammering inside my chest. My blood heats as it feels like my body is awakening.
I don’t like it.
It’s only because there are sex toys on the counter. That has to be it.
“It’s not a child’s toy,” he finally muses, and it’s then I notice how flushed his cheeks are. In fact, the color goes down to his neck. I wonder where else he’s blushing.
Swallowing thickly, trying to bring some moisture back to my very dry mouth, I ask, “Then what is it?”
He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, we find ourselves in some sort of tension-filled staring contest, like we’re trying to see who cracks and looks away first. Except neither of us does. Finally, he drags his wet, pink tongue across his lips and stands a little taller, shoulders back, as he says, “It’s a dual-ended pocket bussy.”
Fucking hell. My dick perks up at that for whatever reason, but then I replay what he said. “Wait.” Holding up a hand, I ask, “Did you say ‘bussy’ ?”
A smirk tugs on one corner of Ash’s mouth as he nods, almost like he’s goading me to ask the question he knows I’m about to. Like he can see the wheels turning. I grind down on my molars, contemplating not asking at all, but we’re already here, and apparently, I have no sense of self-control tonight when it comes to the contents of this box, so may as well.
“Don’t you mean a pussy?”
He shakes his head, biting back his growing grin. I should put a stop to this; he’s clearly finding amusement out of this, and I have no reason to be questioning him about his sex toys. But every time I tell myself I’m going to set it down and walk away, I don’t. Something is keeping me rooted in place in this kitchen.
Heaving a sigh, I finally say, “Okay, you got me. What the fuck is a ‘bussy’?”
Taking a step closer, putting him at the counter, Ash presses his palms down as he peers up at me. “Well, I’m gay, Finn.” My pulse kicks up hearing him say that. I kind of assumed that was the case, with the way he jokingly calls me daddy, but we’ve never outright had the conversation. Suddenly, I’m regretting everything. Making him squirm was fun, but now he’s somehow flipped it around on me, and now my body is reacting in a way that doesn’t make sense to me. Fuck. “So, pussies aren’t of much use to me.”
He gestures toward the device in my hand as if his explanation cleared everything up. And after another tense, silent moment, it clicks, and I’m embarrassed to admit the way arousal shoots through my veins. It shouldn’t.
My lips part as my heart races. “Ah.”
I need to get out of here. I should leave the kitchen. Go to bed.
Drop the fucking toy, Finn, and walk out of the kitchen.
Fuck, why can’t I seem to move? I’m frozen in place, and my ears ring with how fast my pulse is racing.
Ash huffs out a small chuckle as I try to ignore the way my dick is sitting at half-mast behind my pants. If it weren’t for the island bar separating us, he’d be able to tell. Why the hell am I getting hard? This has never happened before.
These are Ash’s toys.
And Ash is a man.
Why are his toys and how they’re used arousing me?
What. The. Fuck?
And it’s not like this is the first time I’ve had a conversation about sex with a gay man. Hollis isn’t gay, but he is bi, and he loves talking about his conquests. August isn’t shy either. I mean, they’re family, so that’s a little different. But still…why is my body responding like I’m into this? And why is the image of Ash using this toy suddenly flashing in my mind?
His head thrown back in pleasure.
No. Stop it. Why am I thinking about this?
The tip of his dick poking through the top of the tube. The way his piercing would be on display. Does that add pleasure for him? For his partners?
Fuck.
Why is my heart racing and my skin tingling? And why am I sweating so much?
Glancing down at the toy, something connects in my mind. “Dual-ended,” I say, repeating what he said earlier. “Are you seein’ somebody?”
Something fiery tightens my chest as I swallow against the bitter taste that question leaves on the back of my tongue. I refuse to put a name to the emotion swirling inside of me. Just like I refuse to put a name on anything else I’m feeling right now.
None of it makes sense.
Ash’s lip curls up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” I snarl. “Are you seeing somebody?”
Brow cocked, he asks, “Why is that any of your business?”
Ignoring the question, I push. “Why would you need a dual-ended one for yourself?” Tossing it onto the counter, I grab the last item in the box. “And why would you need flavored lube for yourself?”
Fuck! I need to put a stop to this.
My heart’s beating so fast I can hear it in my ears. I don’t know why the thought of Ash using these with somebody makes me feel so twitchy, but I need to pull myself together. I have no fucking right asking him this. He’s right; it’s none of my business. This entire conversation and the contents of this box are none of my goddamn business.
But I want to know.
Goddamnit, I need to know.
Ash’s eyes darken as his lips tick up. “Careful, Finn,” he coos. “You almost sound…jealous.”
My heart stutters, and the air has been sucked out of my lungs. “I’m not jealous,” I scoff, the words sounding weak to my own ears.
That’s not what this is. It can’t be.
Stomach bottoming out, I watch as Ash rounds the island, coming to a stop directly in front of me. He’s so close he has to crane his neck to look me in the eye. So close I can count every single freckle on his face. See the way his pupils are dilated.
“Then tell me, Finn…” Ash brings a finger up, tracing the neck of the t-shirt I’ve got on. The brief touch sends a wave of goosebumps all over my body. “Why do you need to know?”
My mouth is as dry as a desert. I clear my throat as I force a shrug. “I was curious, is all.”
He drags his gaze down my body before coming back up and breathing out a laugh. “You’re curious all right.”
And with that, he tosses the items back in the box and swipes it off the counter, tossing me a wink as he pads toward the hall. “Night, daddy.”
My nostrils flare on a harsh exhale, jaw clenched so tight it’s nearly painful. A moment later, I hear the soft clicking of his door closing, and I wait for sweet relief to wash over me, but it never comes. I’m on edge.
And harder than I’ve been in I don’t even know how long.
Fuck!