Tempted by her Daddies: Chapter 22

Tamsyn walked into the kitchen the next morning.

Heck. It was very nearly afternoon.

How the hell had she slept in so late?

Well, that could have something to do with your midnight playtime . . .

Last night, she’d ended up going to sleep between the two of them on the bed. Although how much she’d slept was debatable. She’d hoped she might have been able to turn off the part of her brain that was always on high alert.

But nope.

Having two men in her bed was such a strange occurrence that she’d only slept lightly.

Before they’d left, Roman had kissed her forehead. He was such a sweetie.

Alexei had squeezed her ass cheek and whispered into her ear that she was to behave.

What a jerk.

Why did he assume that she wouldn’t behave?

She made herself a coffee, adding milk and three sugars. Normally, she was a two sugars kind of gal. But today called for more sugar.

“Good morning.”

She jumped with a yelp, turning to see Salem standing there. He wore a white button-up shirt and a pair of jeans.

Tamsyn didn’t think she’d ever seen him in jeans before. Was this how he dressed for the weekends?

If so, she liked it.

He’d rolled the sleeves of the shirt up to show a pair of tanned, muscular forearms.

Yummy.

She could imagine those hands grasping her around the waist, maybe bending her over the counter and pulling her panties down.

And then he’d smack his hand against her bottom . . .

Okay. She needed to stop that train of thought right now.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes!” she said.

Chill.

“I mean, I’m fine. I just needed some coffee.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I hope you don’t consider that breakfast.”

“Well . . . it’s a bit late for breakfast now.”

“I’ll make you an early lunch, then.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” she told him.

“No? Then it’s good that I want to.” His gaze moved over her, no doubt taking in the fact that she was wearing the same things he’d put her in last night. “We need to get you some clothes.”

“Ahh, well, I was thinking I should go home today.”

It wasn’t a good idea to stay here another night. She was already imagining things that she shouldn’t.

Like happy-ever-afters.

And being free.

Yeah, those were dangerous thoughts.

“Were you? Why do you need to go home?” he asked.

“Um. Well. For clothes, of course.”

“And were you planning on coming back after you went home?” he asked as he took her cup of coffee from her hand.

“Hey!” she protested. “That’s my coffee! Give it back.”

Salem shot her a look as he set it on the counter, out of her reach. Then he grasped hold of her waist and lifted her onto the counter before handing her back her coffee.

Oh.

Right.

Well, now she felt a bit silly.

“Thanks. Sorry. I thought you were stealing my coffee.”

“I’ll tell the others that they shouldn’t come between you and your morning coffee.”

“Me and my coffee are forever,” she replied. “Coffee is my friend. It’s never mean to me. It’s never cheated or lied to me. All it ever does is give me pleasure.”

“Unless you drink it when it’s too hot and then it burns,” he warned as he started chopping some onion and mushrooms, frying them up.

“I’ll take my chances,” she told him as she flicked her legs back and forth. She hit her foot against a cupboard.

Oops.

“Careful,” he said, suddenly moving in front of her and grabbing her foot.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to bend right over to look at the cupboard. “Did I dent it? I can pay to replace it.”

“No, you didn’t dent it,” he said, giving her an incredulous look. “I’m far more worried about your foot than the cupboard door.”

“Oh. You are?”

“Yes, Little one,” he spoke in a low voice. “I am. How does it feel this morning?” He checked it over. “It’s no longer swollen.”

“Nope, it’s all good.”

“That’s good. But don’t swing your feet again, because I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, Sir or yes, Daddy,” he told her.

She bit back her initial reply.

Which was most definitely to call him Daddy.

“Yes, Sir,” she finally said.

He placed his hands on either side of her hips and leaned in so his mouth was by her ear.

God.

He smelled so good. It was almost more than she could take.

“I don’t think that was what you really wanted to call me, was it?”

No.

It wasn’t.

But how did he know that? She was an expert at hiding her true feelings.

Or she thought she was . . . these guys seemed to have the ability to see right through her.

He ran a finger down her cheek. “It’s all right to take what you want . . . what you need. It doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t mean that you’ll change. Sometimes you might . . . but you might find that change is good. You’re not selfish, Tamsyn.”

“It . . . what if I do change and I . . . I can’t go back to not having that thing in my life.”

He tilted his head. “What if you don’t have to go back to not having it in your life?”

It sounded like a fairytale.

You’re already in deep.

“I’m here,” he told her. “I’m not going to let you fall if you want to let go. I can see you’re holding on by your fingertips.”

She let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I’m so close to falling.”

“No matter what you decide, I just want you to be happy.”

“Why?” she blurted out as he went back to cooking. He was whisking eggs and the smells of the food cooking had her stomach grumbling. “Why me? I’m⁠—”

He put his hand over her mouth. “I’m going to stop you right there before you say something that I know your butt will not thank you for.”

Oh.

Drat.

That was a really hard rule to follow especially when she didn’t think she was actually breaking it.

“I do believe we’ve already told you that you’re amazing, beautiful, courageous, and smart, haven’t we? And we will keep saying it until you believe it. You’re the first person who Roman has wanted to touch or have touch him. You’re the first person in a long time that has brought out Alexei’s softer side, who he’s actually paid real attention to. And you’ve made me smile. The only other person who has made me smile recently is my sister. But these feelings I have toward you are anything but brotherly. So saying that you’re not special or that we shouldn’t want you . . . it insults the three of us. Do you understand? And will only result in you getting a hot bottom.”

“Okay, Sir.”

But that didn’t feel right. She really wanted to call him Daddy.

He kissed her forehead and moved back to cooking.

“I guess I am pretty wonderful,” she said as she swung her legs again.

He turned and gave her a pointed look. “That’s one.”

“One? One what?” she asked, confused.

“One punishment. You were warned against swinging your legs in case you hurt your feet, weren’t you?”

“I might have been,” she prevaricated.

“Might have been? Are you trying to tell me that you can’t remember me warning you against doing that just five minutes ago?”

“It wasn’t five minutes ago! It was at least ten, perhaps even fifteen.”

“Ahh. So you do remember.” He poured the egg mixture into the pan before turning to give her a stern look.

“Well, if I did remember then I would tell you that it was at least fifteen minutes ago, not five.”

“And that makes all the difference?” he asked.

“Sure. Because there is a statute of limitations on how long I hafta remember things.”

Whoa.

That sounded strange coming out of her mouth. She’d sounded so young.

And yet it also sounded exactly right.

“I’m pretty sure that there is no statute of limitations on how long you have to remember the rules,” he replied as he folded the egg mixture over.

Wow.

He was like a proper chef. It was hot.

Especially since she could barely cook toast. It always came out crispy.

It’s because toasters had it out for her.

“Um, toasters have it out for you?” he asked, looking slightly concerned.

Shoot.

“I said that out loud, huh? That was more of an internal thought. It wasn’t really intended for external conversation.”

An amused look filled his face. “Do you often have internal thoughts like that?”

“Well, not that often. But occasionally.”

He plated up the omelet.

“Where’s yours?” she asked.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, neither am I!” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’ve heard your stomach rumble three times since you’ve been sitting there. And unless you want to spend some time in timeout for lying, I suggest you don’t say anything more.”

Wow.

Timeout?

That did not sound fun.

“Timeout is where all toasters should go,” she grumbled.

He placed the plate on the counter next to her, then forked some up. To her shock, instead of offering it to her, he blew on it.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he pressed it against his lips. “Are you kissing it? Wow, that’s taking the term, eat what you love to a whole new level.”

“First, I don’t think that’s a saying. Second, I’m not kissing it, I’m checking the temperature. I don’t want it to burn you.”

Was he serious?

That seemed like something that someone in a romance novel would do. Not something in real life.

Then he placed the fork in front of her mouth. “Eat.”

She stared at him for a long moment before opening her mouth.

Oh wow.

Flavor burst across her tongue. “That’sreallygood.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he ordered as he forked up some more food. “But I am glad you like it. Now, back to the statute of limitations on remembering rules that I give you. There is no such thing. If I tell you to do something or not do something, then you’re expected to remember that. Forever.”

She chewed her next mouthful. “That seems crazy. What if I live until I’m a hundred and four? Do you really expect me to remember something you told me when I was twenty-three?”

“Yes. I do.”

Sheesh.

“When I’m a hundred and four how old will you be?” she asked.

“Still older. And still able to spank your butt,” he replied.

Yeah. She had no doubt of that.

“Is there any food you don’t like, Little one?” he asked as he fed her some more omelette.

She wrinkled her nose. “Anything gray or green. Sometimes yellow things.”

“Gray, green, or yellow?” He gave her a stern look. “Those aren’t foods, they’re colors. You can’t rule out entire food groups.”

“It’s not entire food groups. And I like some things in those colors. Like green grapes. I like green grapes. It’s just that most green things are gross. Like broccoli and peas. Peas are evil.”

“Peas are evil?”

“Yep. They go everywhere and they won’t stay where you put them. They’re evil and mean and I refuse to eat them.” She crossed her arms over his chest and nodded.

“Well, I can’t argue with evil peas,” he replied. “I definitely don’t want you to be infected by their evil.”

“I’m glad you understand. I’m full now. Need more coffee.” She tried to slide off the counter, but he placed his hand on her chest.

“You can’t get off the counter on your own,” he told her.

“Sure, I can. You want me to show you?” she asked, trying to move again.

“No,” he said. “I know you can do it, but you won’t do it. Because it’s my job to keep you safe and you could hurt yourself if you jumped off on your own.”

She didn’t see how. She’d jumped off balconies two stories high and not hurt herself.

But it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell him that. It would just lead to more questions that she couldn’t really answer.

“So if you want off the counter, you have to ask Daddy.”

“Okay, Daddy. Can I get off the counter now?”

“Not yet.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Are you just having me on here, Daddy?”

“No. I just want to talk to you for a moment. I thought we could do some shopping for you this morning.”

“Shopping for what?” she asked. “I don’t need anything.”

“Hmm, as gorgeous as you are in our clothes, you might want something else to wear.”

“But I have clothes at my place.”

“Well, we could drive over there and get some, if you like.”

Oh. Wait.

No, she didn’t want to do that.

“Uh, no. That’s okay. Shopping sounds fun!” she said.

“Good. Are your clothes from yesterday clean enough to go out in?” he asked.

“Sure.” She’d just go without panties. “At least the pants will be. Maybe I could borrow a T-shirt.”

“All right, let’s get going.” He lifted her down, then turned her to face the counter.

He lifted the sweatshirt she was wearing and smacked his hand down on her ass.

“Hey! Ow!” she cried. “What was that for?

He turned her back around to face him. “For not listening earlier. Now, off you go and get ready.”

Sheesh.

He should have gotten her ready himself.

Salem stood at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for her. He’d debated whether to push for more control and in the end had decided to let her get ready on her own.

Idiot.

Now he felt out of sorts.

She was turning him inside out. And the truth was that he wanted more.

Tamsyn reached the top of the stairs and started down.

“Wait,” he snapped.

Fuck.

He regretted that tone of voice as soon as it happened. Quickly, he raced up the stairs to where she was frozen.

“What? What is it?” she whispered. “Is there a crocodile behind me?”

Um, what?

“No. No crocodile.”

She let out a deep breath. “Whew.”

“You know that we don’t actually have crocodiles here, right?”

“Yeah, but you never know when one of them will turn up, wanting a cup of tea. It’s creepy.”

“Are you talking about the children’s book?” he asked. Although hadn’t that been about a tiger?

“What? No! What children’s book? Who would write a children’s book about a crocodile who comes for tea? That sounds horrifying.”

“Um, yes, I suppose it does.” He rubbed his forehead. “But I think that book was about a tiger.”

“Oh.” She put her hand on her chest. “Thank goodness. That sounds so much better.”

It did?

This was a strange conversation but he decided to go along with it for now.

“So why did you yell at me to freeze?” she asked. “I could have really hurt myself freezing on the stairs, you know.”

“I didn’t want you to climb down the stairs on your own,” he explained.

She blinked and rubbed at her head. “Why?”

“In case you hurt yourself.”

“Umm. I’ve been climbing up and down stairs a long time on my own.”

“Yes, but when you’re Little, you shouldn’t be. Little girls don’t always pay close enough attention to where they’re putting their feet. So you should always wait for Daddy, Papa, or Roman to help you.”

“I’m thinking that you worry way too much, Daddy,” she said, shaking her head. “You are going to get even more worry lines than you already have.”

He took hold of her hand and helped her slowly down the stairs. Yeah, maybe he was being too overprotective, but he was driven by this need to keep her safe and he wasn’t going to ignore it.

He didn’t know why his body kept telling him that there was danger. It was odd considering there were no indicators.

But still, his instincts were flaring, and it was like he had a warning siren going off inside him.

Protect. Danger. Protect.

“Wait. Worry lines?” he asked as they got to the bottom of the staircase. “I don’t have worry lines.”

“Sure, you do.” She reached up and pointed to the corners of his eyes and then his forehead. “Worry lines here and here and here. I think I’ll call them Mary, Sherry, and Berry. Don’t worry, they make you look distinguished.”

And old, no doubt.

He ran his finger over his forehead.

Okay, he needed to stop worrying about his appearance. He glanced down at her. She was wearing her own pants and shoes as well as one of Roman’s T-shirts. He opened the coat closet to grab her coat.

There was just one problem . . .

“Where is your coat?” he asked her.

“My coat?”

“Yes, your coat. It’s now autumn and is getting cooler. You should be wearing a coat to and from work.”

“I should?”

“You should.”

“Hmm, well if I should, then my coat must have disappeared. Is this a magic coat closet?” She stepped closer, looking inside. “Is it a portal to a magical place? That’s so exciting.”

“Again, this is not a children’s book,” he said.

“What? What children’s book?” she asked, turning to give him a confused look.

He couldn’t tell if she was still having him on or if she meant it.

“It’s not magical, which means that you didn’t wear your coat here yesterday.”

“It was warm yesterday.”

“It was thirteen degrees and that was the high!” he countered. “That is clearly coat weather.”

“Ahh, it is? Maybe I need a chart about when to wear a coat and when not.”

“How about this? For nine or ten months of the year, you need to wear your coat.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Yes, really.”

He grabbed one of Roman’s coats. It would still swamp her but at least she’d be warm. It was a navy peacoat that probably cost more than he made in a month.

But she deserved the best.

“All right,” she said cheerfully as she stared up at him.

She looked like a little girl playing dress ups in her dad’s clothes.

Adorable.

He added a scarf and hat that he found.

“It’s really hot in all this,” she complained as he led her out the door to Roman’s car. None of them drove that often, it just wasn’t worth it in London. But he wasn’t taking her into the center of the city today. He opened the door and she stared at the car.

“Wow. This car is pretty.”

“It’s not pretty,” he said. It was a classic Rolls Royce. It was manly.

“It has white seats. And gold bits. It’s pretty. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t mess it up,” he told her gently. He understood her feelings, he’d felt that way when he’d first moved into Roman’s house.

Everything had seemed so untouchable.

“I promise,” he added as he got her seated and put her belt on, buckling her in.

“It even smells expensive,” she told him, rubbing her hands over the leather.

He shut her door and climbed into the driver’s seat. As he started the car, she let out a quiet gasp.

“Ooh, and it sounds sexy.”

Yeah. It kind of did.

“So, do you know any good secondhand stores?” she asked as he drove. “Although we might need to be careful where we park this beauty.”

“Second hand stores?” he asked, wondering what she was talking about. “Why would we go to a secondhand store?”

“To buy me some clothes, of course.”

“You want to buy them from a secondhand store?” he asked.

“Well, yeah. I hadn’t really budgeted for new clothes.”

Shit.

He was such a twat. What was he thinking? Here he was demanding that she get new clothes and meanwhile she thought she had to pay for them?

It might help if you explained what you’re doing.

“Actually, I was thinking a different sort of clothing. Things that your Little might want to wear.”

“Oh. You were? Where do we get those clothes from? Will I fit things from the children’s department?”

Actually, she was so small that he thought she probably would. But he shook his head. “No, I was going to take you to a speciality shop.”

“Oh. Hmm.”

He knew there was something wrong. Even though her expression didn’t change. She had gone still and quiet.

Maybe because you didn’t tell her you’re paying, idiot.

“And because this is my suggestion, I’m going to pay for it all.”

She turned to give him a sharp look. “You will pay?”

“Yes.” He was ready for her protests and he had his arguments all worked out.

“Oh, that’s good then,” she said with a sigh.

He opened his mouth to lay out his arguments. And then realized he didn’t have to.

That was . . . odd.

She liked to argue about everything else he’d said or done, but this she just accepted? In fact, she’d started humming happily.

Would he ever understand her?