Page 80 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

“A job in Paris,” Lincoln clarifies.

Caleb’s green eyes flash. “Is that so.”

“It’s just an idea,” I say. “My dad only told me about it a few days ago, while you two were in Texas. I’ve barely had a chance to consider it.”

It’s the truth—I’ve actually been ignoring it as a possibility, because the thought of moving overseas for translation, a job I’ve only done as a side-gig to help with spending money during college, is scary. What if I hate it as a full-time job?

And moving overseas would mean leaving Lincoln and Caleb behind…but would they even care? It’s not something I feel like I could ask them, because if the answer is that they wouldn’t care, I’d be crushed.

“Who is this boy, anyway?” Caleb asks.

“Uh, his name is Antoine,” I say. “My dad arranged for me to talk to him.”

“So you want to go to France and work with this Antoine guy, huh?” Caleb’s tone is dripping with stern disapproval.

I’ve just discovered that stern disapproval causes me to drip with lust.

My hair, still wet from my shower, clings to my neck and shoulders. My skin feels hot and tight, and I’m hyperconscious of the fact that I’m only wearing a towel.

“What can Antoine do that I can’t do?” Caleb asks, tugging on the edge of said towel.

“Parles-tu français?” I ask.

“Non,” he says, winking. “But I know a lot of good words in English. Like ride my cock, baby girl. Are those good words, do you think?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

Lincoln takes over with my towel, and a heartbeat later, it lands on the floor at my feet. Kneeling in front of me, Lincoln presses kisses over my hips and lower stomach. He nudges my thighs apart, then looks up into my eyes and licks slowly over my pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” I say, a whine in my voice. “Please…”

“Please, Daddy,” Caleb says.

“Please, Daddy,” I echo. “Daddies. Please, I need more.”

Caleb scoffs while Lincoln continues to give me slow licks. Caleb says, “What you need is consequences for your naughty behavior. Standing there naked under your towel while you talk to that French boy. So inappropriate.”

“I’m sorry.” I look into his eyes even as I hold onto Lincoln’s shoulders, trying not to fall.

“And maybe Antoine can speak French, but he can’t do for you what your daddies can. We know what’s best for you, doll.”

“Maybe,” I hedge, but only because I know my false doubt will rile them up.

Lincoln begins licking me in earnest, and all thought leaves my brain. I’m a quivering mass, ruled by building pleasure, every thought centered on my clit.

“Eyes on me,” Caleb says.

My eyes fly open without any thought from me, following his command. I wriggle and squirm, chasing the delicious heat of Lincoln’s tongue, and watch Caleb’s dark, lustful gaze the entire time.

Just as I’m about to reach orgasm, Lincoln stops.

“What—why—Daddy, please—” I begin.

“Could Antoine eat you like this?” Lincoln asks.

“I don’t know,” I say, affecting a prim voice even though my body is a raging volcano of lust. I can’t believe he just stopped all of a sudden…then again, it’s not unlike him to tease me this way. Trying to keep my voice from shaking, I say, “I haven’t yet had the opportunity to test his oral skills.”

Lincoln growls, his frustration clear.

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