The Dom With the Perfect Brats (5 page)

Instinct flared. No way was she letting Gemma get co
zy with him when she wasn’t around. That reaction surprised her. But he
was
a hunk of masculinity.

He looked them over, suspicious still,
yet seemingly rolling with it. “You can come over tonight and get a sneak peek. Happy?”

They both nodded.

Hell, was she going to do this?

“Okay. Be there at ten. You have to stick to my rules though. It’s a business, not a playground.”

If this had been one-on-one she’d never have dared to follow through. Godfrey Cross late at night? Not a chance. And...rules?

“Deal.”
Gemma nodded and, automatically, Izzy did the same.

Then her brain nudged her with the possibilities. Night
time. Alone with Gemma and Cross? Clothes changing and, maybe naked flesh? She was going to be bright red half the night. Gemma might even let her help with zips and stuff. Well, she could hope, couldn’t she? Hope sprung eternal, and all that...though eternal was taking much longer than she appreciated.

Izzy sighed. It’d been years since she’d last dared touch a woman.

Cross

Her sweet ass swayed as she moved around the room tidying up. The little black sundress with the cherries had come from his shop, he recalled. Cross tipped the bottle to his lips only to discover it was empty.

“You checking out my girl, Cross?” Jude drawled from the couch.

“Yup. You have good taste.”
He smiled, eyes narrowed, as he continued to watch her.

Sabrina flashed him an adorable glare and picked up a pile of newspapers off the coffee table. As she walked toward the kitchen,
he leaned back in his chair to watch her.

“They really should be naked, man. You’re too sweet on them. That’s why you get the backtalk.”

Her second glare was scathing, and she flipped her blond hair at him in dismissal as she marched from the room. Apparently Jude’s vague threat to crop her thoroughly later hadn’t made the girl any more mannerly.

“Cross, you’re killing me. You piss her off and she’s going to over-salt my supper. I’ll have to send you the bill for my blood pressure meds.”

He chuckled, toying absently with the empty bottle. “You get enough tail, you should be pretty fucking relaxed, my friend.” Cross rubbed at his newest tattoo, trying not to scratch it as it healed.

“I know you kept Josie naked most of the time, but my girls have more personality. I like them cheeky.
You’ll understand when you’re a grown-up.” He tapped the crop he was still holding on his thigh then tossed it into the space between the cushion and back of the couch, from where he’d fished it when Sabrina had started up.

“Twenty-six isn’t exactly an infant, old man. You’re just feeling old because they’ve turned you into a breeder. Soon you’ll be driving a minivan and taking kids to soccer practice.”

Jude grinned. “Hell yeah. And I have two women. We could make our own team.”

“Better you than me. If you can get those girls to behave themselves once in a
while you might be allowed to coach. As it is, I think Q outranks you. Maybe even sweet little Sabrina.”

Not only
had Sabrina not kneeled and waited for direction when she entered the room, but she sassed Jude – in front of Cross – for not calling his mother back last night. Cross shrugged. Not his problem. If Jude liked them mouthy, who was he to judge? He would never have let that kind of behavior slide with one tap on the ass with the crop. No wonder they were hellions. He would have tanned Josie’s bare ass in front of Jude, then he might have cut her off for a couple of days as a reminder.

Josie. Very well-trained. He still hadn’t figured out why he’d gotten bored of her so quickly. She did what she was told
. She was good in bed...

She’d been hot, but unfortunately not too bright. There were no in-depth discussions with her. No books. He was like Jude – he expected his girl to be his best friend too. Or girls, in Jude’s case. Hard to be best friends with someone you had nothing in common with.

His thoughts drifted to what he and Jude had just discussed at length and what he’d been mulling over in his mind. Gemma. Izzy. He got the impression they were both somewhat interested in him – he could work with that. Unfortunately, he also got the impression they were vanilla. Not that starting from scratch scared him, if he had the chance to train them...if he could even convince them to try kink at all. But how was a guy to choose between them?

If th
ey were strictly vanilla, a relationship wouldn’t work. But both of them seemed interesting enough to get to know, and maybe he could convince them to try things his way.

Gemma. W
ould it be that easy to train her? She was feisty and hot. It would be a pleasure to try to tame the girl. His girl. That possessive feeling was there already – more than a little premature. There was something about the sarcastic little thing that made him ache to spank her ass then make her scream for release. Then mark her as his.

Izzy was
bold as brass, like Gemma, but Izzy’s humor was drier. She seemed a little younger and more vulnerable too – it made him feel protective, like he’d knock someone out for looking at her sideways. For all that, he got the impression she’d have a smart mouth, even if she was otherwise being a good girl for him. And he’d make sure she’d learn to be a good girl – that is, if she was into that kind of thing.

But h
e was getting ahead of himself. Just because he happened to flirt with two sexy girls didn’t mean he could ever have them. Not with his need to dominate. That kind of thing tended to shrink the dating pool.

W
hen he came back to earth, Jude was looking at him with a smirk. “You weren’t kidding, Cross. Those girls have you chasing your tail. Have you decided which one you’re going to lure into your sex lair?”

Cross pressed his lips together and shook his head. There was a chance neither of them would be into kink. He couldn’t go back to dating vanilla girls, no matter how interesting they were.

Q walked in laughing, a firm grip in Sabrina’s hair. Five months along in her pregnancy and if you looked at her from behind, you’d never know it. His little friend was just starting to show. She handed a full beer to Cross on her way over to Jude, then sat beside her Dom, pulling Sabrina down next to her.

“Mouthy?”
Jude chuckled.

“You really have to ask?”
With a yank, Q pulled Sabrina’s face closer. “I guess I’ll have to keep your bratty mouth busy while Sir has company.” She ran her tongue over Sabrina’s lips and the latter whimpered.

“Q, you are one evil switch. You can at least wait until I leave,” Cross growled.

They’d been friends for too long for her to take him seriously. She winked at him then teased Sabrina’s lips with her tongue until the poor girl was panting and squirming.

His cock twitched.
The reaction told him it would be amazing to see Gemma and Izzy together like this. Did he have to choose between them? Jude hadn’t.

“Stop now, Q, or take it upstairs. You’re making Cross uncomfortable,” Jude admonished, giving her a little pinch. “He’s got things on his mind today, and you’re not helping.”

“I’m not making him uncomfortable, his hard-on is,” Q corrected. “You still trying to make up your mind, Cross? Quit being a whiny bitch and take them both. Come to the dark side – we have girl-on-girl action.”

“I wish. I don’t think they’d be into sharing or each other.” He shrugged and took a drink.

Q snorted. “And you know this because of your highly developed gaydar, right? Or maybe you asked? No? Well you can either dither around like a little boy and try to figure out how to politely suggest what you want or man up and make it happen. This really isn’t like you.” She laughed. “You don’t take shit from your subs. Either this is going to happen or it’s not. Be direct. You usually are.”

He shook his head in mock dismay and shot a look at Jude. His dickwad buddy was nodding in agreement and didn’t look the least bit taken aback by Q’s tone.

Cross arched a brow at her. They’d been friends since she’d moved to town with Nico – he and Q’s asshat former Dom had hit it off at first, before he knew what he was really like. Q had been a beaten-down, scrawny thing at the time. She and Cross hit it off, and spent a lot of time quietly discussing literature when he was over. One night, a few months in, Nico almost broke her arm because she’d forgotten to do the dishes. Cross lost his temper and punched him in the face. Q had refused to leave or call the cops, despite Cross’s urging.

He and Nico had a mutual hatred for each other since then, and his friendship with Q had ended from lack of contact. Q then and now were almost like two different people.
Now she was easier to be friends with because she didn’t inspire his pity. She was way bossier since she got her own submissive – even with him. He had to admit that he saw her more as a fellow Dom than as someone else’s sub.

Sabrina ran a possessive hand over Q’s belly. Her hand jumped in time with whatever their baby Olympian was doing. “But they might be straight, Q. He might have to pick.”

Jude grinned. “Straight like you, little one? Maybe he just has to show them that they’re not.”

“I
am
straight! Just not for Q. But I never had a chance – look at her. She could convince anyone to mess around. She’s distilled sex. We probably shouldn’t even allow her out of the bedroom.”

Q shoved Sabrina sideways and her top half landed on Jude’s lap. Four quick slaps to her ass echoed weirdly in the room. “Do you choose where I go, little girl?”

“No, Q.” She sulked, trying to shimmy off of Jude and onto the floor.

“Go kneel on the bed and wait for me.” Q’s tone didn’t leave room for argument.

Sabrina pouted. She slid off of the couch and stalked off, presumably to obey.

“No iPod while you’re waiting!” Q hollered after her.

“Whatever,” came the grumbled reply.

Off the couch before Cross blinked, Q stalked down the hallway. There was a squeal and the sound of feet running up the stairs.

“No running, Q!” Jude called after them.

“Like I’m going to run anywhere at this point, Sunshine,” Q shot back. “She’ll still be up there when I get there. There’s nowhere for her to go.” Her footsteps on the stairs were slow and purposeful, like the villain in a horror movie.

“Nooo, Q! Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean it.” A loud bang ensued, some screeching and Q’s low chuckle.

So funny that Q
was the strict one. Cross drained his beer and got up. “Q’s right. I’ll just tell these girls what I want. If they’re not into it, it’s not a good match.”

Jude clapped him on the shoulder as he walked him to the door. “Work up to explaining what you want. Tact is a good thing, even coming from a Dom. And turn them on first. They’
ll be more agreeable. Trust me.”

From the front door, Cross could hear Sabrina
already begging to come.

Jude grinned widely. “Come back later tonight and tell me what happened. Or tomorrow if they put you in a sex coma.”

He grimaced then shoved Jude’s shoulder. “It’s been so long since I got laid that I might need a manual.” He had no trouble getting a piece of ass, if that was all he wanted. Or another submissive to warm his bed and bore the fuck out of him. But what he’d decided he wanted, months ago, was Ms. Right, not Ms. Right Now. He walked down the porch stairs and raised a hand to say goodbye without looking back.

“It’s only been a few months, fucknut!” Jude called after him. “If you already forget, you really must be getting old.”

***

Her eyes had the kind of glaze that a donut would envy. She’d been like this – to a greater or lesser extent – as long as Cross could remember. The only thing that changed was the drug of the day and how “well” it worked – how out of it she was.

Mother.

To him that word was not synonymous with apple pie and hand-holding and comforting words. But then, he had to admit he hadn’t been the easiest kid to raise. Not like Sheppard.

She regarded him balefully and blew smoke in his face. He hefted the bag of groceries to remind her why he was here.

“Hello, Mother.” He knew better than to try a smile.

Grudgingly, she put her back to the wall in the entryway and allowed him into the apartment where he’d grown up. He carried the bag down the smoke-stained hall to the kitchen. His father was there, sitting slumped in a hard, wooden chair. Dad had the air of a man who had lived twenty years longer than he would have chosen to, if given his way. Cross never understood why he didn’t leave her.

“Henry,” Cross acknowledged with a nod.
No calling him Dad, not in front of Mother. The implied closeness pissed her off.

The man placidly nodded back, the sparkle in his eye muted by his bland expression. From the kitchen doorway, Mother
grunted her disapproval and the men went back to pretending to ignore each other. Cross went out to get the other bag then put groceries away in the cupboard and fridge.

After f
illing the sink, he moved on to the huge pile of dishes that had been accumulating since he’d been by last week. The front door slammed and Cross assumed Mother had gone out to sit on the porch.

Without turning to look at his father, Cross muttered, “Everything good? Do you two need anything?”

“No, son. You already do too much for us. Not that she’d ever say so. Thank you for helping us, even though you have every reason to avoid this place.” The warmth in his voice made Cross’s eyes prickle with tears.

He
bit the inside of his cheek and kept scrubbing pots. Ever since the only man he called father had entered his life – when Godfrey Cross had been a gangly ten-year-old – it had been strongly implied that they weren’t supposed to like each other. People were only allowed to like and approve of his older brother, Sheppard. Godfrey was a little fuck-up.

In his quiet way, Henry had shown him that not only could people love him, but that he was worth something. He hadn’t been allowed to throw a ball with him, or interfere in his discipline, but when they were alone together Henry’s subdued talks about making something of himself had made an impression. There was little doubt in Cross’s mind that if it hadn’t been for Henry and his late grandmother, he would have grown up to be a sociopath.