Page 2 of Michael

me. I know it."

He spun me around, grabbed the back collar of my robe and lifted until I had to stand on my tiptoes. Shoving Kevin out of the way, he marched me down the hall to my bedroom.

"Go easy on her," Kevin warned. "She's still sore."

I was mad at him for goading daddy Mike, for being flip about the whole mess, but I could hear the protective tone in his voice and it made me forgive him a little bit. At least one of them didn't hate me or think I was a whore.

Inside the bedroom, Daddy Mike stopped in front of my bathroom door. He twisted the knob, opened it and tried to propel me forward. I wrapped my hand around the doorframe, uncertain of his intent. He grabbed me by the waist and picked me up. Sitting me down on the toilet, he gave me a rough "stay" command and started the bath water.

Good. He wasn't going to kill me, just clean me—or make me clean myself. And he was still so hard. Hope blossomed in my chest but I forced it down. If he saw it, he really would think I was a little slut.

"Get in."

I could hear Kevin pacing outside the bathroom door, ready to break it down if I so much as called his name. Nodding obediently at Daddy Mike, I slipped out of my robe and sat down in the hot water.

I reached for the sea sponge and body wash but he took them from me. Took them from me and then did nothing but glare at me. I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around my legs and rested my head on top of my knees, trying not to cry.

I heard him dip the sponge into the water and then I felt it move across my back.

"How long are you going to hate me?"

He didn't answer. I kept my eyes closed. I started to shake as all the potential consequences of what I'd just done played through my mind. The worst of it was I might lose Daddy Mike. What had I been thinking? That I could fuck Kevin and it would all turn out okay?

"Shhh..."

Daddy's attempt to calm me only made me shake harder. "Tell me it's okay," I pleaded with him.

Silence. A little sob tore from me. His hand threaded through my hair, forcing my head back until I had to open my eyes. He brought the sponge to my hair, squeezed water over it and let the sponge fall into the tub. There was the squirt of shampoo and then he was massaging the soap through my hair, his gaze on my face.

"It's not okay, Celeste."

Gently tugging on my hair, he forced me to lean back against the tub. He fished the sponge out and ran it along my arms, across my collarbone. Slow circles with it down my chest had me trembling anew, this time with lust. The sponge pushed at my thighs and I parted them, felt the gloss of it over my labia, between them for a few quick dips.

I had to fight to keep my hips down. I wanted to raise them, offer myself, let him know that maybe I was a slut, but I was his slut.

I moaned, breaking the spell that had been slowly weaving its way around him. He let the sponge slide back into the water. Standing, he grabbed another of my robes, the big furry one he'd bought me last Christmas that made me look like a neon blue Muppet.

Tickle Me Celeste he had joked.

Mike wrapped the robe around me and opened the door to find Kevin still standing on the other side.

"Out." A low growl made it clear Kevin had better comply if he wanted his legs left intact.

Kevin was stubborn. They both were. Just like they were both kind, smart, protective, and sexy enough to eat. And now they were fighting over me—over what to do with me. I could see it in the looks they were exchanging.

Mike guided me toward my bed and then turned, grabbed Kevin's arm and dragged him to the hallway.

"Go easy on her, Mike. She loves you."

Daddy shut the door, locked it and then stayed there, his forehead resting against the wood. After a few long seconds, he returned to the bed, kicked his shoes off and lay down next to me. The robe he had wrapped me in a minute before had opened a little at the neck and he pulled its lapels together before he rested a hand on my shoulder.

I tried to slide closer but the hand at my shoulder held me in place.

"Daddy—"

He closed his eyes at that and I wasn't sure whether I saw his anger returning. It was so hard to read him right then and it was killing me. For the longest time I'd known when he was happy, sad, annoyed with something or someone. Never before had it been me he was angry with!

Maybe Kevin was completely wrong this time. Maybe Mike hadn't been forcing himself to be indifferent. Maybe I was the one thing they didn't like in common—at least not in the same way.

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