Simple Man, Simple Dream Read online

  Although Del, who was now the second-most important woman to Deacon, after Winter, wasn’t going to thaw out anytime soon. She acted coolly polite to him at best, and pretty much ignored him, at worst.

  Ry knew Deacon was hoping she’d come around, but Ry wasn’t so sure. Not that it’d stop him from being with Deacon, but it’d make all their lives easier if she’d stop trying to see him in whatever jaded light she was using.

  Deacon was going to have a talk with her, but was hoping she’d ease up first, on her own, without intervention.

  As far as Ry could see, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Meanwhile, the three of them—Deacon, Winter, and him—did more and more things together. Trips to Mote Marine, or the movies, or the beach. He found cookie recipes that were Deacon-friendly, and enjoyed teaching Winter how to make them. Ry was deep into investigating keto recipes right now, researching to find dishes that would be easy to make, tasty to a little girl of not-quite-four, and wouldn’t mess with Deacon’s blood sugar too much. All while not being full of chemical sweeteners that none of them were fond of.

  And when the men were alone, they definitely didn’t waste any time.

  “Ten weeks ago tonight, boy.” Deacon stepped behind Ry, where he stood at his stove and was preparing a keto version of biscuits and gravy for them for dinner, along with scrambled eggs. He wrapped his arms around Ry’s waist.

  Tonight Ry cooked wearing only an apron.

  Well, and a butt plug.

  They didn’t have to worry about Del and Winter stopping by unexpectedly, because she didn’t know his address.

  And, since Ry didn’t have to work tomorrow, Deacon was spending the night.

  “Ten weeks tonight, Daddy.” He tipped his head back onto Deacon’s shoulder. “Tired of me yet?”

  “Fuck no. You’re hot, you cook, and you haven’t told me to go fuck myself yet over Del’s shitty attitude. Like hell am I letting you get away from me.”

  Yeah, there was that. “She’s worried about you. At least she cares.”

  “You, my sweet boy, are being generous in the extreme. I know she’s a bitch—you don’t have to sugar-coat it for me.”

  Once dinner was ready, Ryland ditched the apron and they ate out on the couch in front of the TV. Deacon had spent the morning sending Ryland texts, trying to get him worked up.

  It worked.

  He’d eagerly anticipated tonight for days now, knowing that he wouldn’t need to be home for Winter, and Ryland wouldn’t need to work tomorrow. They planned on spending all day tomorrow together, too.

  Probably in bed.

  This felt…real.

  Permanent.

  Ryland hoped he wasn’t setting himself up for heartbreak, but he didn’t care. He loved Deacon. He honestly didn’t give a shit about the age difference.

  With dinner out of the way, and the kitchen cleaned up, Deacon sat on the couch and patted his lap. He hadn’t stripped yet, and was still wearing his jeans and that belt.

  The one Deacon had used on his ass that first night they spent together at Kent’s. And countless times since.

  Deacon’s hand stroked Ryland’s ass, which still bore faint bruises from a quick play session they’d had on Tuesday evening after Del had picked up Winter.

  “How’s my boy?”

  Ryland sighed as bliss started flowing into his brain at Deacon’s rumbly tone. “Better with Daddy here.”

  Deacon raked his nails up and down Ryland’s back and thighs, sending him even deeper into subspace. When the flat of Deacon’s right hand settled over Ryland’s ass, and with his left he gathered Ryland’s wrists to hold them securely, Ryland took a deep breath and waited.

  Smack.

  And another, yet another as Deacon settled into a slow and steady rhythm, working back and forth, from one ass cheek to the other. The stinging burn sweetly sucked Ryland into the depths of subspace as he breathed through each impact and tried not to rub his cock against Deacon’s jean-clad thigh.

  He’d explode if he did that.

  Because he had accidentally done just that a few weeks ago.

  Deacon had laughed and made him lick it off his jeans and then spanked him until he was hard and horny again as “punishment.”

  Although, to be honest, Ryland had found himself quickly addicted to the man’s darker side.

  The thrill mixed with the safety. Knowing that the man making him beg and cry had only an hour earlier been goofing around and making Winter giggle like crazy.

  He could completely let go to Deacon, trusting him to not go too far.

  Every bit of trust he placed in the man was repaid tenfold, and Ryland hoped this never ended.

  The more trust he gave, the more he submitted to Deacon, and the freer Ryland felt.

  He wasn’t looking to leech off Deacon financially, either. This was totally a mental and emotional kind of connection he felt.

  As he writhed in Deacon’s grasp and savored the spanking, he allowed conscious thought to slip away. His world started and ended with Deacon, his beefy, strong hands, his callused fingers, the quiet and certain power behind every deliberate stroke.

  Thissss…

  All of this.

  This was Daddy and Dom and deep, dark need, for Ryland.

  Every few smacks, Deacon would pause and play with the base of the butt plug a little. Eventually, Deacon reached between Ryland’s thighs and started stroking his sac.

  “How’s my boy doing, hmm?”

  “Horny, Daddy.”

  “I can tell. Bet you’ve left a wet spot all over my jeans.”

  “Sorry, Daddy.”

  He chuckled, a low, sweet sound that always sent Ryland’s mind into a deliciously dark place. “Didn’t mean I didn’t like it.” His fingers crept lower, cradling his balls and slowly exploring Ry’s hard cock. “I love that I get you so hot for me.”

  Ryland whined, beyond any point of sanity.

  “Time for you to pay Daddy’s cock a little attention.” He released Ryland’s wrists and helped him melt onto his knees between Deacon’s spread thighs.

  Helping him out by unfastening his belt and jeans for Ryland, Deacon fished out his cock for him. “Here you go, baby. Don’t make me come. Oh, and hump yourself on Daddy’s boot while you do.”

  Ryland straddled Deacon’s right foot, his cock leaving a trail of pre-cum along the smooth black leather of his Durango harness boot. All the while, he worshipped Deacon’s cock, licking and sucking and exploring him from head to base and back again. He loved it when Deacon made him do this, the sweet bite of playful humiliation made everything that much better.

  After about twenty minutes of this, Deacon fisted Ryland’s hair and made him bend over and scoot back, so he could lick his pre-cum off Deacon’s boot.

  “Does my boy need a good fucking from Daddy’s cock?”

  “Yes, Daddy. Please!”

  Still with a firm grip in Ryland’s hair, he pulled him to his feet and put him on his back on the couch, his legs spread wide and his knees against his shoulders.

  Deacon wrapped his cock, pulled the butt plug out of Ryland’s ass, dropped that on a towel he’d staged earlier, and then easily shoved home all the way to the root.

  “Fuck!” Deacon gasped. “Baby, you’re so fucking perfect!”

  They were both tired, so tonight’s play didn’t last too long. But by the time Deacon finished fucking him, while jerking Ryland off at the same time, Ryland felt ready to melt into bed.

  Their next step was a quick shower, and then cuddling.

  Deacon held Ryland, nuzzling his head. “How was that, boy?”

  “Amazing, Daddy.” He snuggled in close. “Absolutely amazing.”

  The more time that passed, and as they headed into month three, there was one thing that Ry knew for sure—he was deeply in love with Deacon and wanted to spend the rest of his life with him.

  The next step would be trying to get Del to approve of it.

  If not?

&n
bsp; Well, they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. Meanwhile, for the night of their third-month anniversary, Deacon planned to come over to Ry’s apartment after he got home from work, so they could play and have fun.

  It touched him that Deacon was as eagerly marking off time as he was, keeping track of the dates.

  It meant he didn’t feel quite so silly about it.

  And he loved the fire in Deacon’s eyes every time he called the man Daddy. That never got old.

  More twisted, yes, as they started doing even more things together, but old?

  Never.

  One thing Ry knew for certain, his simple life had grown richer than he ever could have imagined it.

  And he knew it was for life.

  Chapter Eight

  “Wakey up, PopPop.”

  Deacon startled awake to find Winter sitting next to him on the bed.

  “Oh, man. What time is it, Pumpkin?”

  “It’s seven.”

  Shit. He’d forgotten to set his alarm last night when he returned home from Ryland’s. He’d eaten an early dinner before going over there after Ry got off work, but forgot to take his medicine on time. They’d had a rough and tumble fun kind of evening before he’d finally remembered it, then came home and crashed.

  They were three months into this, and Delaney was still being as stubborn as ever despite Deacon even taking them all out to dinner at a restaurant in an attempt to have neutral-territory time together in hopes it’d soften his stubborn daughter’s position.

  It hadn’t.

  But, here was the thing—they were three months into this, and Deacon knew it was for life.

  So did Ry.

  They’d already talked about this quite a bit, and Deacon’s last hesitation at taking the final step and marrying Ryland was wanting Delaney to be okay with it first.

  Except it looked like that would happen about the same time they finally held the winter Olympics in Florida.

  In July.

  At some point, Deacon knew he was going to have to have a sit-down with Delaney and lay down the law to her. He wanted Ryland in his life, Ry made him happy, and Ry loved the hell out of Winter.

  Not to mention, Winter loved Ry.

  “Oh, don’t hit the button on my go-juice. I forgot to preset it. Let me get up and I’ll do that and then you can push the button.”

  She scowled at him. “PopPop okay?”

  “Just really tired, honey. I got home late last night. I’ll be right there.”

  “Okay.”

  That was like a cardinal sin, though, messing with her morning routine.

  He climbed out of bed, used the bathroom, and made his way out to the kitchen. Del walked in with Winter’s stuff. “You okay, Dad?”

  “PopPop forgot de go-juice.” Winter stepped up onto the stool to watch him prep everything.

  Del pulled up short and arched an eyebrow at him.

  “I was out late. Do not ask me unless you want to know,” he said. “And you don’t get to lecture me for it, either.”

  She scowled. “We’ll talk later.”

  Meaning she wanted to chew him out for it.

  He finished putting the coffee together and filling the reservoir. “There you go, Pumpkin.”

  Winter punched the button and nodded at the machine, as if that made everything right with her world again.

  Then he crooked a finger at Del and led her down the hall, to his room, where he stepped inside with her.

  “Listen, I love you, but I love Ryland. He’s not after anything that I’m not after, too.”

  “Dad! He’s only four years older than me!”

  “So what? I like what I like. You don’t see me giving you shit over that fuck, do you?”

  She clamped her mouth shut over whatever she’d been about to say, knowing exactly who he meant—Winter’s father.

  Until he’d been arrested and tossed in jail, she’d steadfastly tried to defend him to Deacon and get Deacon to like him.

  Deacon pressed on. “He’s employed, he’s a sweetheart, and I wish you’d give him a chance.”

  “What are people going to say, Dad?”

  “What people? Like I give a shit what people think about me. I never have before. Is that the only thing you have against him, that he’s younger than me?”

  “I…” She glared at him. “I don’t understand what you two have in common.”

  He lowered his voice. “He likes the way I fuck him and beat his ass. There. Happy? He’s got a Daddy fetish, and I think he’s hot. We’re both attracted to each other for reasons besides that, though. And if you’d give him half a chance, you’d see how much he loves Winter, and how much she loves him. He cooks with her. He sits with her and reads to her. She’s never been this infatuated with any guy you’ve dated. So can’t you just give him a fucking chance? Please? I raised you. And I love Winter, you know I do, but this is also my time, now. I’m not getting any younger, Del.”

  “You can’t find any guy close to your own age? You have to find a guy like…him?”

  “Like what?” His gaze narrowed as the thought hit him. “You think he’s hot, too, don’t you?”

  “Ew, Dad! I—”

  “No, that’s the whole problem, isn’t it?”

  She glared at him again. “I did, until you told me he calls you Daddy and you spank him.”

  He burst out laughing. “Well, okay, then. Here’s how this is going to go—suck it up, honey. He’s going to become a part of our lives. I’d think you’d be happy that gives you another person who loves Winter and who can help take care of her. Someone we can trust with her. I want to marry him, Del. I love him. So she’s going to have to get used to it, and so will you. The funny thing is, I think she’s not going to have any problems with it. I wouldn’t give you grief if you brought an older man home.”

  “I call bullshit on that, Dad. He was ten years older than me, and you hated him.”

  “I hated him because he was an asshole, and, FYI, I was right. If you brought home a guy my age who was of quality—of character, I mean—and who loved Winter as much as we do, I’d really be okay with that.”

  She stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “I…I just worry about you, okay?” She finally met his gaze. “I’m worried about you getting hurt, Dad. I’m worried about what happens in ten years, or twenty, if he decides he’s had enough and leaves you? What if he breaks your heart?”

  “You don’t think I’ve thought about that? If I thought he was that kind of guy, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now, because I never would have let things get to this point with him. If he does, he does. But this time, I’m going to marry for the right reasons instead of the wrong ones. I’m marrying him because I love him.”

  “You’ve already proposed to him?”

  “No, but we’ve been having some serious discussions. He’s been worried about how you’d react.”

  “No shit,” she muttered.

  “And he wanted to try to give you as much time as possible to come to peace with this.”

  “I can’t promise you I can do that, Dad.”

  “You don’t have a choice, honey. I won’t force you to spend time with him, but when you’re in my home, or in front of Winter, you will respect him and at least be courteous to him.” He opened his arms to her, and, eventually, she stepped in for a hug.

  “I reserve the right to hunt him down and castrate him if he hurts you.”

  He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “Love you, too, Del.”

  They returned to the kitchen, where Winter was intently focused on watching the coffee brew. “I think your go-juice is ready, PopPop.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart. Kiss Mommy good-bye. She needs to leave for work.”

  Del hugged her and kissed her, then gave him one last peck on the cheek. “Just…make sure first, huh?”

  He nodded. “I will. And I am.”

  Once Del was safely gone, he poured his mug of coffee. “Can I ask you a q
uestion, Pumpkin?”

  “Sure, PopPop.”

  “Do you like Ryland?”

  She nodded. “Can I call him Grampa?”

  He smiled. “If I marry him, you can.”

  She gasped. “Are you gonna marry him?”

  He slowly nodded. “I think so. We’ve been talking about it a lot.” He picked her up. “But do you like him?”

  She nodded. “I love him like I love you.”

  The irony was that, with Ry, she’d also get a pseudo-father figure, and Del was having trouble seeing that. They’d told Winter a child-appropriate version of the truth when she first asked about her father—that he was a bad man who tried to hurt people, so he was in jail and would never see or hurt her.

  But unless or until Del met someone, that left a void in Winter’s life. No, he didn’t have the energy Ry did. And in ten years, he’d be sixty-eight and probably less able to chase after her.

  But Ry would only be forty-one. And if Winter was a fraction as headstrong as her mother was at that age, he’d welcome all the fucking help he could get keeping tabs on that girl.

  “Mommy’s still having trouble liking Ryland because she doesn’t know him like we do. I’m probably going to ask Ryland to start spending nights here with me, okay? So don’t be surprised if you come in one morning and he’s in bed with me.” Meaning a new rule would go into effect for his boy that they had to at least put on boxers before falling asleep.

  She frowned. “Is he gonna let me wake you up?”

  “Nothing will change about that. But just wake me up if he’s sleeping, okay?”

  “What about go-juice?”

  He smiled. “You’re still my go-juice girl.”

  She thought about it, then nodded. “Okay.”

  He felt so tired that, after fixing her breakfast, and after sending Ry a good-morning text, he stretched out on the couch with Winter to watch her morning shows.

  He was dozing when Winter poked him in the forehead. “PopPop?”

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “Can I play the bubble game on your phone?”

  “Sure.” He punched in his lock code and opened the game for her. “There, sweetheart.”

  He felt sooo fucking tired.

  I need to have Ry come over here just so it doesn’t kick my ass the next morning when I have to watch her.