19. Sully #2
Twisted at the waist, I glare at my arse. Or try to, at least.
“ Daddy Sully. ”
I spin at the sound of Sloane’s voice.
She drinks me in, slowly inspecting my bare chest and stomach, then lingering on my cock, which twitches under her gaze.
Once again, her eyes heat. “ Daddy Sully. ”
The breathless words go straight to my groin, and the tight cotton does nothing to hide the reaction.
She smirks, clearly enjoying this interaction as much as I am.
“Did you get the hat?” another voice calls. Lo.
Sloane startles, her eyes darting away. “Yeah. One sec.” She steps in and swipes the green hat off the bed. And with one more look of longing, she steps away.
Bloody hell. I want to chase her. I want to toss her over my shoulder and bring her straight back to bed. The fierce need to run my tongue along every inch of her skin steals my breath. The temptation to pin her down and fuck her so good she’s screaming my name overwhelms me.
I’m halfway to the door before good sense reins me in again. Yes, I desperately want my wife’s body, but I want her heart more. And I don’t have it. Not yet.
Tonight, my focus needs to remain on making this Christmas everything Sloane and T.J. deserve.
With two deep breaths to get my cock calmed the fuck down, I toss the ugly green shirt over my head.
My excitement distracts me as I head back to the lounge, and I forget to duck in the doorway, instead slamming into the frame.
“Dammit.” I press a hand to the aching spot.
The cat appears, thinking I’ve summoned him, and a giant paw bats at my trousers.
“No,” I warn, darting out of the way. His nails are enormous; there’s no way the cheap material of my pajamas would stand up against them.
“Fuzzy.” Cal shakes the bag of treats he stashed in the gift bag .
The beast turns and darts toward him, his body nothing but a gray blur.
Cal tucks the treat bag behind his back and says, “Sit.”
I huff. Why Cal still thinks he can train the cat is beyond me. The damn thing doesn’t listen to a word he says. Hell, he barely follows any of Brian’s commands.
Unsurprisingly, the cat bats at my brother.
“No, Fuzzy. Sit,” Cal commands.
But the cat has no patience for his nonsense. He simply stalks around him and swipes at the bag dangling in front of Cal’s ass. As he does, his claw catches on the cheap material of the elf suit.
Then he’s yowling and Cal is yelping, and when Fuzzy yanks his paw back, he takes the flap down with him.
“Oh my god,” Lo cries as Cal’s bare arse comes into view.
Both boys fall into hysterical laughter, holding their bellies.
Quickly, I avert my eyes. “Why aren’t you wearing underwear?”
“Jesus,” Brian snaps. “No one wants to see your hairy ass.”
“I do not have a hairy arse.” Cal reaches for the flap that’s now dangling behind him. “Tell them, Lo!” He spins the other way, still grasping for the material.
She, Sloane, and both boys are laughing so hard they’re crying.
“Let me,” Lo forces out between giggles. She scurries over to Cal and quickly buttons the flap back into place.
When the boys finally tire of laughing, T.J. tips his head and surveys Brian.
“You don’t have kids,” he says, pointing to the Daddy Brian stitched on my best friend’s arse.
Lo giggles. “We all know he’s Dammit’s daddy.”
Brian drops his head back and groans. “For the love of God, I didn’t ask for a cat. He’s not mine.”
“Don’t say that,” Cal hisses, frantically scanning the room. “He’ll hear you.”
The cat has disappeared, along with the whole bag of treats. He’s probably living it up in Brian’s room .
“No, he will not,” Brian grumbles. “Let’s open presents so I can get the image of Cal’s hairy ass out of my head.”
Both boys break into fits of giggles again.
“I don’t have a hairy butt,” Cal whines.
“You have a perfect butt.” Lo rubs her boyfriend’s back. “I love your butt.”
T.J. guffaws. “You love his poopy butt? That’s so weird.”
“Presents.” Sloane claps, changing the subject before he segues into a conversation about poop.
“Why don’t we give Mum hers first?” I suggest to my son. It’s a miracle his excitement hasn’t caused him to ruin the surprise. He was so proud of himself when he found the pink lava lamp.
Sloane’s genuine smile as she opens it fills me with confidence. Yeah, she’ll like the rest of her gifts too.
After the boys open presents from Brian—a Lego Santa sled and Christmas tree—Murphy gives Lo a set of illustrated Percy Jackson coffee table books.
It’s too late for the boys to tear into their Legos, so we send them into the kitchen to get the cookies for Santa, then settle in to read The Night Before Christmas .
Cal pulls Lo onto his lap in the oversized chair while Brian and Sloane join me on the couch.
T.J. and Murphy wiggle their way between us, and I tuck them into my sides while I read.
When I get to the last line, one of many I have memorized from years of practice, I look at Sloane.
I stumble over the words, my breath threatening to escape me. Because her gaze is filled with a tenderness I haven’t seen in far too long. And fuck, I’ve missed it.
In this moment, it seems possible that my wife might actually like me. And it feels like a turning point. Like this moment could change everything.