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God, we look cute in our tuxedos. Sarah snapped a picture of us the second we exited the changing room, even though we both had sex hair. I think I even spot a bead of cum on my lower lip. But screw it. We had a wonderful time, which is what counts.
Now, I need to prepare for my mission to infiltrate the Yonkers warehouse. My brothers are determined to do it soon.
"Let's see." My voice is a growl as I open my monitor. The warehouse blueprints flash on my screen with the various checkpoints Rusty pointed out on our tour. We’ll sneak in through the worker’s entrance and steer clear of the door the Diavolos use when they leave their limousine. Rusty also showed us pictures of the white scrubs the workers wear, and our replicas should arrive soon. They’re indistinguishable. "I must message Gianluca about the uniforms. We need to try them on."
A knock on the door distracts me. "Daddy? I brought you a treat."
I scoot back and beckon Wesley in. "Enter, beautiful boy." Switching off my monitor, I make a place for him to set my treat on my desk. "I'm ready."
"Are you sure?" Wesley drawls. He’s so cute when he's sassy. "If you need a few minutes to put yourself away, I won’t rush you."
I press my palm against my forehead. "I'm decent, boy. My dick is in my pants."
"Mmhm." Wesley clearly doesn't believe me. "After that stunt you pulled at Louis Vuitton, I don't trust you anymore." He blows out a breath of amusement. "I bet you’re furiously masturbating to that picture Sarah snapped."
I tap my desk. "Get in here before I yank you in, boy." I pretend to be cross, even though I'm melting. "You don't want another spanking."
"I think I do."
Wesley's voice borders on coquettish as he pushes open the door with his shoulder and enters the room. He wears a cute crop top with a cartoon alien on it and a green bracelet on his wrist.
It saysAlien Museumand it complements the khaki shorts that hug his booty so nicely. I claw back a growl when I see the way his ass is filling out, mostly as a result of the meals I cook him.
Wesley hassucha freaking good appetite. My ex-boyfriend didn’t appreciate what I prepared and always complained that it was bad for him.
(Little liar. I saw him snacking on Snickers bars when he thought I wasn't looking. He just didn't want me to make his food.)
By contrast, Wesley gobbles up everything in sight. It's like he hasn't eaten in years—which he likely hasn't. I'm glad someone appreciates my cooking.
"Look at that treat." I eye the bowl of green popcorn he carries on a silver platter, then rub my belly. "You know just what to bring Daddy."
"It's from the Alien Museum." Wesley blushes shyly as he sets the tray on my desk, then sits on my lap. "Arlo took me there with Constantine. He wanted to know if I purchased a good tuxedo."
I pick up a piece of green popcorn. "Why is it green?"
I've never seen popcorn like this. I pray it's not contaminated.
"It's alien popcorn, Daddy." He shakes his head in disappointment. "I thought you picked up on that since I returned from the Alien Museum and all. It's what aliens eat when they fly across the universe."
I pop a piece in my mouth. It tastes buttery and salty with an extra ingredient I can't pinpoint.
"It's good." I nod at my boy. "You were smart to bring this back for me. A lesser boy would've gobbled up the entire bucket without saving any for Daddy."
A guilty look flashes in Wesley's eyes. "Arlo and I ate three buckets in the planetarium, but don't tell anyone. It wassoyummy."
I pat his shoulder. "That's my boy. I'm glad you're eating well. You're still quite skinny, and you could put on a few pounds."
Wesley glances down at his body. "Am I filling out?" He wiggles his bum on my lap. "I'm sick of being skinny and frail." He shoots me a look. "I want to eat lots and go to the gym. I'll be strong like Daddy."
I tickle his armpits. "Damn right, boy. I should hook you up with a private membership with my personal trainer. We'll have you looking like a muscle hunk in no time."
"No muscle hunks." Wesley sticks out his tongue. "Only big, fluffy Daddies. That's what I want to look like when I grow up, too."
When he grows up? Oh, this boy is too silly for words.
"Youaregrown up, silly boy." I glare at him. "You're a twenty-year-old man and as soon as next month rolls around and we make our relationship official, I'm helping you act like it."
Wesley furrows his brow. "What do you mean?"
