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Noa waved me off. “I’d let you work out the logistics.”
Lucian and I laughed.
“That’s nice of you,” I chuckled, “but there isn’t much to work out.”
“Yes, there is,” he insisted. “You didn’t let me finish my list. Mister Santiago was also there and Mister Sloan and Master Jack!”
Well, now. “Nice fantasy fuck league,” I said with a nod.
That made him laugh. “Oh my gosh, that’s what I’m gonna call it! But I might make some changes. Also, Daddy, not everything is about topping and bottoming. You know what would be really hot? If you just made out and jerked off and were all up in one another’s business. Licking and kissing and stroking and rubbing.”
“Oh God, that,” Cam blurted out. “All those bodies just…hnnngh.”
I lifted my brows and exchanged a look with Lucian over Noa’s head.
Horny li’l whore boys.
I cleared my throat and picked up my wineglass. “I take it you don’t want me to cancel tonight’s playtime.”
Noa swung me a wide-eyed look. “Um, no? Why would you even think that?!”
Pardon me, I must’ve had a brain fart.
Silly Daddy.
“I was clearly kidding,” I bullshitted. In the corner of my eye, I noticed we were about to be saved by two walking mustaches. “Look at that, Colt and Master Greer are coming over.”
Noa bit into a chicken skewer and looked out at the lawn, and his eyebrows crawled higher and higher.
The bunny ears were gone, but Colt had found an actual pickle jar instead, and he was fishing one out as he reached us.
“What is happening here?” Noa whispered.
My mouth twitched with mirth.
“Evening, brat. We missed you at the end of the event,” Greer said.
“The caterpillar on his face is moving, Daddy.” Noa wasn’t great at whispering.
I coughed to hide a laugh.
Okay, to be quite frank, if two men could pull off the ’stache, it was these two. Colt had gone for the solid chevron mustache, whereas Greer had opted for a bit more of a horseshoe. They were hot. But the beards still won, and I hoped this madness was temporary.
“What was that?” Colt bit into a pickle. “You sayin’ how hot we are, little one?”
Noa’s baffled expression made my fucking day. He just didn’t have any filters.
The boy swallowed hard and shook his head as if to clear it. “I’m so benching you on my fantasy fuck league roster this season.”
There was no hiding the laughter this time, same for Lucian. Fucking hell, but I was so torn. How could two men look hilarious and ruggedly handsome at once? I didn’t fucking get it.
“I don’t know what a fantasy fuck league is,” Colt drawled, “but ain’t nobody benchin’ my fine ass.”
“The ass is not the problem, Sir,” Noa said vehemently.
Even Cam lost it at that one, and he snicker-giggled madly behind his hands.
“You’re just jealous because you can’t grow a mustache,” Greer stated.
