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Then the brat’s phone cut off.
For fuck’s sake.
Nope, that was something new, so we were all going to do it together. I remembered that rule and I was sticking to it.
But changing clothes I could manage.
“Zoom.” Ian rushed back into the room, tossing a pile of clothes at me. “One. Two. Three.”
That seemed to be a reference to the three pieces of clothes that had landed on my head, so I agreed as I peeked through his pant legs. “One. Two. Three. Now let’s get you ready.”
He giggled at my terrible rhyme, then pouted as he looked at the now blank phone that was still in the holder. “Grr?”
“Yes, the monster ate his cell phone signal, but we’re going to talk to him tomorrow.” And I agreed with Ian—we were doing everything together from now on. “We’re going to talk to him a lot.”
Ian shifted from one foot to the other, looking at me and then at the phone. “One. Two?”
Huh?
One, two?
That had to mean Bishop and me?
No, what if it meant Ian and me?
“Are the two of us together going to talk to him a lot?” That must’ve been the right question because he laughed and threw himself at me. Landing right on top of me so I tumbled back and was lying on the couch, he giggled like an evil supervillain.
His gleeful smile was contagious as he giggled and rubbed his nose against mine. “One. Two.”
He looked so excited that I couldn’t tell him no. “That’s right. One. Two.”
I’d obviously made him happy…but what the fuck had I agreed to?
Being a stand-in Daddy was hard.
****
The low beep of the text message popping up on my phone seemed loud in the quiet of Ian’s bedroom, but I quickly silenced it since I’d been playing on it for the past fifteen minutes.
He was a cuddly sleeper but didn’t seem to be a deep one when he was sober because when I’d tried to inch off the bed earlier, I’d almost woken him up. So I was stuck and had decided to get up-to-date on the news and check my emails as he finished sleeping.
Thankfully, he only had about ten more minutes before his alarm went off. I knew that because we’d spent twenty minutes playing a guessing game with one, two, threes, and giggles before I’d figured it out.
I’d almost called Bishop in defeat before Ian had decided pantomiming jumping out of bed when his alarm went off would be funny.
Being a full-time Uncle would be exhausting…and this whole adventure was a good reminder of how important Bishop was in our life.
His text made me question that sincere belief, though.
You two were supposed to wake me up with a sexy text. Where’s my morning tease?
He was insane, but I was a good Dom and managed not to point that out as I responded. I was also pleased with myself when I didn’t ask him why the hell he was up so early.
Your boy hasn’t even woken up yet.
And I wasn’t going to send him a picture of my morning wood. I was not that kind of Dom.
Right?
I could almost picture him giggling.
So it’s coming later? I can be patient.
I sincerely doubted that, but the idea made me smile.
Are you sure about that?
I managed not to laugh as his completely over-the-top reply popped up on my screen. It was a screenshot of his bulge straining the front of his boxer briefs. Clearly, he hadn’t gotten up for the day…well, he hadn’t left his room yet.
He was definitely up.
I’m not seeing patience. I’m seeing a brat who’s going to get a spanking when he gets home.
That just got me a laughing emoji.
I haven’t come yet even though I’ve been thinking about you two. So that’s fabulous patience.
He was probably counting on my getting distracted once he was finally home, but I was definitely going to make sure he knew I was remembering every naughty thing he was doing to get attention.
Be careful or I’ll see what Ian thinks about you not being able to come until you get home.
And now I got a pouting emoji.
Cheeky brat.
I was going to point that out until Ian distracted me by wiggling closer and rubbing his erection against me. “What are you doing?”
The sleepy, disgruntled tone had me trying not to smile as I answered him honestly. “Texting your Daddy and telling him that messaging me a dick pic is not showing me how patient he is.”
“Huh?” In a second, Ian’s head popped up as the words processed but then clearly didn’t make any sense. “A dick pic?”
“Kind of.” I scrolled to find the picture and handed him my phone. “See.”
He giggled, but it was a very wicked, grown-up sound. The way he wiggled closer and rocked against me made it even more clear that he wasn’t little anymore, no matter how he was dressed. “He’s very awake.”
