AllFreeNovel
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After the winter sky had gone dark, Seth, Matt, and Danny sat outside around a roaring fire pit, sipping whiskey, smoking cigars, and talking smack. It was one of his favorite Christmas traditions…but the shitty movie where the pretty girl chose the villain kept pelting his brain.
Suddenly, Conner rushed out of the house. “Danny, hurry! Maggie… It’s time! Mom’s helping her put on a coat.”
His brother stood and spit his whiskey into the fire, looking wide-eyed and terrified. “I-I’m not ready to be a dad.”
Grace approached, a smile tugging at her lips as she pressed her forehead to Danny’s. “You’re going to be an amazing father. You had the best role models on the planet.”
Seth swallowed down a lump of emotion. She meant their father…and him.
Danny gathered his mental shit and nodded. “Let’s do this.”
Seth was really proud of him—until Danny dashed to the edge of the patio and spewed his guts all over the pristine snow.
“Way to suck it up, bro.” Seth clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry. We’ve got your back.”
Danny wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I’m good.”
Piling into two cars, they caravanned to the hospital. Anna Mae Cooper was born an hour later, making her the highlight of their Christmas. Mother and daughter had come through with flying colors, while the loud Cooper clan had cheered, earning disapproving frowns from the nurses.
Over the following days, the new baby filled the house with joy. It was bittersweet for Seth. He remained annoyingly unbalanced. Everyone gave him a wide berth. The extra bit of breathing room was nice, but he couldn’t shake the oppressive need for something…somewhere…or someone. Seth would have written it off since this time of year always messed with his head. But it felt as if he’d outgrown his own skin.
Things would get better after the holidays. They had to.
Finally, New Year’s Day arrived—along with a bitch of a hangover. At least his brothers hadn’t fared any better.
He packed up his belongings and prepared to head back to the city and his normal life, relieved the holiday confinement with his well-meaning family was at an end. Then he spent the weekend righting his brownstone and trying to lose himself in work. But continued emptiness rode him hard. Where was the warmth and cheer? He’d left them in LA. With Heavenly, who kept intruding into his thoughts.
How had she spent Christmas? Rung in the New Year? Had she celebrated in Beck’s bed?
As he stood in the shower on Monday morning, his thoughts once again gravitated to the blue-eyed beauty. Even before he’d reached down to wash his balls, his cock stood at attention. Refusing to jack off yet again, Seth cranked the hot water off and let the icy spray pelt his body until, teeth chattering, his eager appendage finally gave up. When he stepped out and stared at his reflection in the mirror, an unfamiliar face with hollow eyes stared back.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Nothing mindless, uncomplicated sex won’t cure.
That had to be it. Between Liam’s woes, Heavenly’s wiles, and all the family closeness, he hadn’t gotten laid in weeks. Time to fix that shit.
He walked through his workday, his mind already on the evening and what he’d do to shake this malaise. After a frozen dinner in front of some cable news, he checked his watch. Nearly nine. Time to find his leather pants, head to Graffiti—his kinky home away from home—and take control of his life again.
Twenty minutes later, he sat on a stool, absorbing the palpable hum emanating from the Doms and subs scening in the dungeon as he breathed in the heady scent of sex.
Gemma, a sub with whiskey-brown hair and pale green eyes, sidled up to him. “I was beginning to think you’d left us for good, Seth Sir.”
While he hadn’t had the chance to work her over, she’d definitely been on his radar before Liam’s distress call had taken him out west. Gemma was his type—a few years older, experienced, and not interested in a full-time Master. A few weeks ago, he’d itched to have her under his control and in his bed. His impatient cock had scraped his zipper the instant he’d set eyes on her trim, scantily clad body. Now, it didn’t even twitch.
Too bad. That fucker between his legs was going to get happy.
He nodded Gemma’s way. “Good to be here.”
“If you’re looking for someone to play with, I’ll happily volunteer, Sir.”
Yeah, he was going to move the hell on and stop giving his mental power to Heavenly. He would find the goddamn will to bend Gemma—or someone like her—to his.
“Then kneel, girl.”
The smug smile Gemma sent him from beneath her dark lashes and her graceful slide to the floor was all the consent he needed.
So how was it that, less than forty-five minutes later with Gemma still tied to his bed, looking rosy-assed and well fucked, he itched to free her, forego his usual lavish aftercare, and go home?
