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Preferably, Bryce’s.
Bryce puts his hand between my legs to feel my wee. "You made a lemonade, boy."
I grow shy, then color more intently. "I know, Daddy. I was focused on drawing."
I rock back and forth on Bryce’s hand, capturing my moans behind my teeth. It feels so good when he checks me to ensure that I’m being the good boy he wants me to be. Yes, I love being good for Daddy, love coloring and talking about trucks and diggers and even making lemonade.
Even my friends are making lemonade right now too, I can tell. I blush as I look at Calloway, who’s scrunching his face together as Greyson rubs him.
"Not there, Daddy."
Greyson removes his hand at once. "Thanks for being honest with me. I love you for that, boy."
Calloway issues Greyson a naughty grin. "Here."
He brings Greyson’s hand to his ass, then wiggles his cheeks in Greyson’s palm. Greyson laughs, then rolls his eyes as he squeezes Calloway’s bum.
"You’re one naughty boy."
"I know I am, Daddy." Calloway blushes.
I try not to burst into laughter as I turn my eyes back to my creative work. Greyson and Calloway crack me up every time they get together.
Even now, Greyson is always hesitant around Calloway. He doesn’t want to make his boy uncomfortable or overstep any boundaries. Calloway doesn’t exactly have boundaries, which I know because I feel like I’m almost closer to him than Greyson. Calloway wants Greyson to rawdog him right here and now, I can tell.
Of course, my friend would never use that dirty word, but the point still stands. If anything, Greyson isn’t possessive enough around Calloway. He’s too concerned with protecting him.
I doodle a heart by my truck. "Uh oh."
I made it green instead of red.
I search for an eraser, but then I remember that you can’t erase crayon. I all but smack my forehead, What in the world am I thinking?
Bryce wraps me in a bear hug from behind. "There, there. I love your pretty heart. In fact, I wish all hearts were green like this one, because it’s so much prettier than a boring red heart. You have a gift for color, BJ."
My heart turns warm and fuzzy as I melt into Bryce’s arms. Oh, he always knows what to say to make me feel better. He does what every great Daddy should do—he praises me when I’m good, tells me sweet things to boost my mood when I’m sad, and always, always corrects me when I misbehave.
Waxley peers at my doodle. "Why is your truck green, BJ?"
"It’s the color of Mountain Dew."
Bryce slides my sippy into my hand. "This is your daily allotment of one-sixteenth of a can of Dew. You don't get any more."
Ever since I met Bryce’s working guys, I’m determined to be more like them. I learned the lingo (except the swear words), figured out how to walk like I’m waiting to go on break soon, and started drinking their favorite drinks.
Bryce won’t let me drink black coffee in the morning, but he did relent to letting me try a tiny bit of Mountain Dew.
I’ve got to say—this drink truly is nectar from the gods.
Calloway issues Greyson a look. "BJ is drinking soda pop, Daddy. Not juice."
Greyson issues Bryce a look. "What kind of Daddy are you?"
Bryce issues Greyson a look. "A great Daddy, thank you for your concern."
I issue Calloway a look. "Don't tattle on me."
Calloway issues Waxley a look. "BJ called me a tattle tale."
