Page 62 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

My cheeks are warm as I lean in and collect the leftover load. I swallow Bennet’s finger down the knuckle. Wanting to tease him a little I work my tongue around the digit the way I enjoy using it on his penis. I suck and slurp until I feel his erection poking into my thigh. When I pull off him, our eyes lock, and the look he’s giving me makes my knees weak.

“I love you, Bennet.”

He blushes, but he doesn’t look away. “I love you too, Benj.” His lips brush against mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. He just stands there staring, our faces only inches apart. “I still can’t believe any of this is real.” His hand touches my chest, rightabove my heart. “We wasted so much time. We could have been like this all this time.”

I shake my head. “We’ve wasted nothing. If we did this sooner, we never would have found Dad. We wouldn’t—” Before I can finish, the front door opens, startling us.

“Dad?” Tatum’s voice calls out. Bennet and I both turn our gazes to the door. Tatum’s standing in the doorway with his gargantuan husband trailing behind, carrying their luggage.

It almost feels like the temperature drops in an instant. This once-warm home suddenly feels unbearably cold. Just as cold as Tatum’s expression. He’s staring at us like any love we shared before has been lost forever, and it hurts my heart, because I genuinely love our ex-boyfriend. When we were dating, we used to sleep right next to each other, with Bennet on the other side of me and Austin on the other side of Tatum.

I can tell Tatum wants to unleash holy hell on us, but he isn’t given the chance. Dad’s footsteps thud against the stairs as he makes his way down. My heart leaps in my chest, because he’s wearing his light gray slacks. They’re my absolute favorite, as they cling to every nook and crook of his body. Before we made things official, I used to stare at his ass in them every morning. I’d visually devour the sight of him until he caught me, then I’d make up a ridiculous excuse, like Bennet having stuck a non-existent “Kick Me” sign on his back that somehow vanished into thin air. Now, I don’t have to come up with excuses. Even better, he’s worn them for the sole purpose of giving Bennet and me an eyeful.

I don’t know how I expected Dad to react to seeing Tatum, but I didn’t expect there to be this much bitterness on his face. He looks like he’s staring at a criminal warlord who’s barged into his life just to destroy everything he holds dear.

“Son,” he says, his voice cold. He glances up at Kincaid and gives him a wave and a genuine smile. “Good to see you, Abdulov.”

“It is very good to see you, too, Dad.” His grin is wide as Texas herself, and he’s waving at Dad like a moron. “You’ll have to excuse the little one.” He pets Tatum’s head, earning himself a growl. “Pay no attention to his terrible manners.” He places a hand on Tatum’s cheek and tugs until they’re eye to eye. “What did we discuss, my love?”

Tatum rolls his eyes. “Fuck off and die, Russian trash.” Wishes of death aside, Tatum’s expression softens a bit before he finally gives Kincaid a quick kiss. After the kiss is done, Tatum closes his eyes and sighs. “Can we talk?”

I’m not sure which of us he’s speaking to, and I’m not given a chance to ask, as he whirls on his heel and marches into the living room, calling out, “And bring the goddessdamned box.”

Kincaid hoists the oversized box into his arms with ease. He must have super-human strength, because it took all three of us just to get it into the foyer. We follow behind him, watching as he sets the box on the floor, right next to Dad’s recliner that Tatum’s commandeered. Bennet and I make our way over to the sofa, leaving an empty space between us. I worry, at first, that Dad might sit on the love seat, but he doesn’t. He just plops between us and takes both our hands, his eyes daring Tatum to say a word out of turn. Tatum stares at us in disbelief, but he doesn’t look angry. Just confused. I can’t say I blame him—it isn’t as if we planned to fall in love with his father. It isn’t lost on me how this situation could be upsetting to him, but it’s not as if we’re doing this to hurt him. He’s happy; don’t we deserve to be happy, too?

We’re silent for a while, and there’s a wordless war being waged between father and son. It doesn’t seem like either plan to back down. Kincaid is still fiddling with the box, trying toremove the tape that kept it closed for the journey. Once he’s got the tape off, he rips the box apart at its corners. The sides fall, revealing a large wooden chest. It looks like the one Dad keeps at the foot of the bed that houses old quilts and blankets. Instead of opening the chest, Abi returns to the recliner, picks Tatum up, and carries him to the loveseat, bringing him closer to us.

“Absolutely not,” Tatum objects, slapping Kincaid’s shoulder. “Put me back where you found me, you overgrown sloth.”

Kincaid chuckles as he places Tatum on the floor. Without warning, he jerks Tatum’s jeans off, the suddenness of his action making Tatum squeak. Within seconds, Tatum’s bare ass is on full display, and Kincaid sucks his own finger, getting it nice and wet. I sigh, because I know what’s coming next.

The way Kincaid keeps a finger up his husband’s backside at all times as a means of comfort is kind of vile, but I’m not one to kink shame, unlike Tatum. Kincaid brings Tatum down onto his lap and mumbles, “Deep breath, sweetheart. Here it comes,” before slipping a finger inside.

“Daddy,” Tatum whines. “Not in front of them. I’m trying to put on my stern face.”

“There is no need for sternness. I’ve already told you—several times—we are here to make peace.” Kincaid smiles warmly at Dad. “We’ve come to make amends, and I am not leaving until everyone in this room has said what they need to say to fix this.” He arches an eyebrow at Dad, then at Bennet and myself, and finally, at Tatum. “I will not have this. Tatum has been beside himself, and I won’t allow this to eat away at him, or at any of you. You’re family.”

“Family doesn’t fuck their family members’ ex-boyfriends!” Tatum growls. “This is beyond sick. Tell me, Bennet—how long was I gone before you fell to your knees and forced yourself on my father?”

Bennet’s eyes bulge. “It wasn’t like that! Things just happened, and I?—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me. I know my father, and I know without a doubt he didn’t initiate this. He isn’t even gay, for fuck’s sake.”

“I’m demisexual,” Dad interrupts. “Son, I need you to hear me on this—I love Benjamin and Bennet. That’s not changing, and I’m not breaking up with them. You’re going to need to come to terms with it if you want to remain a part of my life.”

Tatum’s mouth falls open. “Excuse me? And what if I don’t? Are you going to disown me? Is that what this comes down to?” Tatum’s eyes are so narrow, it’s a wonder he can see at all. He turns his glare toward Bennet, and I’m not sure why he’s not giving me the evil eye, too. If anyone deserves his wrath, it’s me. I’m the one who spearheaded this. Not Dad. Not Bennet. “Are you happy, Bennet Anderson? You’re destroying my family. Do you not understand that? You know how important my family is to me. How could you? I thought we were friends.”

He sounds so broken and hurt, and Bennet looks just as wrecked emotionally. He’s shaking and everything. I’m not going to let Tatum scare him. I refuse.

“If you want to blame someone,” I say, surprising myself with the strength in my voice. “Blame me. I’m the one who wanted this. I’m the one who begged Bennet to love Dad the same way I do. So, be mad at me and leave Bennet out of this.”

Tatum’s face is redder than I’ve ever seen it. “Did you just call him Dad? Are you serious right now?”

“I did,” I admit. “And I will again. Because that’s who he is to me. My Daddy.” I stop myself, because that’s not right at all. “My dad.”

Tatum points a finger at me, his jaw clenched, hands shaking. “Fucking shameless, that’s what you are. Well,shame, shame, shame, I know your fucking name, Benjamin Applebaum.”

“You might think it’s sick, but it’s who he is to me. My dad. My Daddy. He’s the man I love, Tatum, and you already have one of those, so it’s not fair for you to be so mean about it. He’s been lonely for so long, and you ain’t done anything to make him feel better. You abandoned him and refused to even respond to his texts. While you fucked off home to Washington, we’ve been here trying to fix his broken heart, so don’t you dare talk to me about what is or isn’t sick. There’s nothing sicker than breaking your father’s heart and not caring enough to put it back together. You should be on your knees, begging for?—”

---