Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Do you hear West?” Dash asked, his voice husky and sated. When he used our little guy’s name, Duke and Dixie went on full alert, positioning themselves in the direction of his bedroom on the second floor. Now that the dogs had a focus, nothing would stop them. Once the door opened, they’d bolt through the house, prancing around the base of the stairs, waiting to get past the child safety gate to greet the children good morning. Dash was still where I left him, pants pushed down to his thighs, his limp dick still content from my fantastic blow job. An arm hung over his eyes.
“Do you think our sex makes the dogs sad?” Dash asked.
My eyes narrowed at the silly question and it burrowed into my brain like a pesky earwig. Now I’d be wondering about it all day. I didn’t like the idea of my dogs being down in the dumps due to all the crazy good sex I received. Dammit. I tossed the edge of a blanket over Dash as I passed by. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m about to open the door. Why does every day have to begin at sunrise in the morning?”
“Wait for me. I’ll come with you.” Yet, he didn’t budge an inch.
“Meet us in the kitchen.” As I opened the door, our girls with their house shoes and robes on, blonde hair springing free from their braids, were running toward me, giant smiles on their faces. Only the placement of their birthmarks distinguished them.
“They’re awake,” Livie yelled like it was Christmas morning. Duke sprang forward, rocketing toward them like a furry missile. The collision was a daily occurrence, sending all three tumbling while somehow creating a fluffy cushion to absorb their falls. It felt like a reunion after ages apart, not a few nighttime hours. Duke’s tail wagged happily, thumping against the floor until everyone was upright again. Ava’s shoe had mysteriously ended up between his teeth. Dixie let the chaos happen, sitting on her haunches, waiting for the scene to end.
Even though we were going on three years with the girls in the house, about eleven hundred days, I was still taken by their excitement with life. Their mom was blonde like Dash, pretty in the same ways he was. The girls shared all of his great traits, including the bright blue eyes.
“Daddy’s still tryin’ to sleep,” I said, waving a hand toward our bedroom. “Go get him. Tell him happy birthday and tickle him.”
“Dammit.” Dash let out a disgruntled groan, and the bedroom sounded like a wildlife observatory. I couldn’t hold back a grin as those bedcovers rustled, and Dash’s body thrashed about. I knew he was rocketing those pajama pants on faster than a speeding bullet.
“I’ll get him, Amelia,” I called to the real superhero in our house. She flashed me with a warm smile while I tightened the knot on my robe and let out a yawn. The signs of age had begun to settle on her face, and I genuinely wished for her well-being. She took care of us as if we were the joy of her world. I hoped she felt the same love from us.
“His bottle’s ready.” As if West tried to hurry us up, he burst out with a small infant cry.
I didn’t know how long we’d have that newborn cry, but it warmed my heart as I took the bottle and pivoted to the foyer, and up the sweeping staircase, two steps at a time.
“Scott’s pulling up.”
“Tell him I’ll meet him at the office after we have breakfast,” I said. Ever since the kids arrived on the scene—and our three girls arrived almost immediately after we moved in—the house had been babyproofed in every way. Back then, Dash and I went way overboard, making me now have to climb over an oversized gate at the top of the stairs while holding my cock and balls to keep from getting pinched like so many times before.
“Shh, West,” I murmured as I gently pushed open his bedroom door. Overall, he was a good little guy. His tear-filled eyes met mine, curiosity flickered over his face, wondering what I was about this morning. As if he hadn’t just called me up. I placed the bottle on his dresser and moved to the side of the crib, smiling down at my son. “Good mornin’. How’d you sleep last night? It had to be at least four hours this time. I’m proud of you.”
He stretched his tiny arms over his big head. Well, at least he tried to. His fists actually reached his hairline. I patted his diaper, checking what needed to be done there and lifted him into my arms. “I told your sisters to tickle your dad for his birthday. All those little hands coming at him at once. Someday you’ll appreciate these stories,” I said, lifting his fist for a high five. “Maybe I should’ve told them to jump on the bed. That always drives your dad crazy.”