“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Dusty asked me for at least the fifth time. We were going to an art gallery opening that was featuring one of Samantha’s sculptures and it was exactly an hour away, which you would’ve thought was in another country the way they were fussing.

Not that you could pay me to miss it even if it were in another country. Samantha had been granted the honor after winning a local art contest. The judges didn’t even know her age, just saw the piece, so we couldn’t even blame it on her adorableness which she had in spades. When Mrs. St. John had her enter, I feared it would only lead to heartache because who expects a child to win a juried contest, but Mrs. St. John insisted there was something special about the particular piece and two months later, she was in the paper as the youngest to ever win the prize.

Eat that, shitheads at her old school. My baby sister is an artistic genius on top of all things.

“For the last time, I’m pregnant, not sick.” I might weigh a ton, waddle, have ankles the size of my calves, and have heartburn more often than not, but sick I was not.

“But it is an hour drive.” I appreciated my alpha’s worry, I really did, but Dusty needed to drop it.

He stepped over to Richard who fastened his tie. I knew Dusty could manage that task every bit as well as Richard could, but this was a routine with them whenever they got dressed up, which wasn’t often enough if you asked me. If it weren’t for my overly excited and rightly so sister waiting for us, they might not be wearing those suits long.

“Which is about our round trip every morning to Sam’s school.” Not that I was making those trips every day anymore, but that was beside the point.

“But what if you go into labor?”

Richard kissed Dusty before stepping around him to tie my bowtie. Unlike Dusty, there had been zero chances of me tying it correctly, and in the end, it would have been a half-assed wrinkly mess.

“Then we have a baby.” I bumped him with my belly because why the fuck not, and Dusty cracked up at the look I put on Richard’s face.

“Richard, help me out here,” Dusty pleaded, to which I responded by kissing Richard soundly, not afraid to use every weapon in my arsenal.

“Absolutely not. I want to see our little girl’s time to shine.” He winked at me before straightening his own tie, which I managed to muss with my belly bumping silliness.

“I thought I could at least count on you to be on my side with this one.” He pouted. Ever since the crap went down with Richard’s mother, Dusty had become more protective than ever. Most days I enjoyed it. This night was not most days.

“You underestimate the excitement of that little girl downstairs, the one who has been dressed in her fancy dress for an hour, waiting on us.”

It had been more like two. She’d barely eaten. When she’d gone to the gallery opening with Mrs. St. John a few months back, it was all she could talk about for weeks. She could hardly believe she was going to be part of something that amazing. To be fair, I think the judges couldn’t, either, their shock evident by some of their comments after her name was announced.

Never underestimate my sister.

“It’s pretty amazing what she’s accomplished,” Dusty agreed with Richard.

“She’s pretty amazing.” Richard’s eyes sparkled with pride.

“I look fat,” I spurted as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Paternity suits were never attractive, but this far along I looked like a blimp. And Richard had insisted on me getting one of the fancy ones from some store whose name I couldn’t even pronounce, so it wasn’t like I had on junk. No, I was just huge.

“No.” Richard tilted my chin up with his finger. “You look pregnant and sexy as fuck.” It was hard not to believe him when his voice drooled of desire that way. But the truth was, no matter the reason, I looked ridiculous in the suit.

“In a suit that looks like it was built for an elephant,” I mumbled under my breath, something I was sure I’d pay for later in the bedroom. Richard had recently discovered that while Dusty was all into the daddy thing, I apparently was only into the spanking aspect of it. He liked to save up excuses for said spankings even if he held back a little too much for my liking, out of pregnancy paranoia.

“Elephants do not wear suits,” Dusty piped in as he slid on his best dress shoes. I would never understand dress shoes. Black sneakers looked just as good and hurt hella less. I had a feeling if I weren’t preggo, I’d have been urged very strongly to wear them, but as it stood, neither of my alphas said a word.

“That’s not exactly helpful,” I snipped a little too harshly, covering it up with a wink. The darn hormones had me overreacting to far too many things, and while I worked hard to keep it in check, I didn’t always manage.

“It’s getting late,” Samantha screamed from downstairs.

“We’ll be right down,” Richard hollered back. There had been a time not too long ago when he would’ve ignored her saying she could come and speak to him if she wanted to, but he wouldn’t respond to her choosing not to walk the few steps. He finally realized that wasn’t a battle worth fighting. “I’ll go calm our little artist.”

He walked away and both Dusty and I watched him, staring at his delectable ass. Like any red-blooded man could resist that.

“You sure you’re okay.” Dusty came over, pulling me into his arms or trying to, my belly preventing a full embrace. “She’d understand,” he whispered in my ear before nibbling on it. He very much did not play fair.

And truth was, I knew she would. Sam wasn’t like most kids I knew. She in many ways was wise beyond her years, and if I told her I needed to stay home for the baby she’d probably insist on only one of the guys going with her so the other could keep me safe. That didn’t mean I was willing to miss her special once-in-a-lifetime evening.

“And if I thought it was dangerous for either the baby or me, I would. You know this.”

“Fine.” He dropped to his knees, his face in front of my belly. He was always sexy on his knees, but there was nothing sexier than him doing so to talk to our son as had become a habit with both of them. I was a lucky-ass omega. “But you stay in there, little man, and maybe, just for tonight can you keep off your Da’s bladder. He could use a break.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” I laughed as I offered him a hand up, keeping hold of it as we walked down to see a very bouncy, overly excited Sam.

The ride to the gallery had taken longer than planned, thanks to not one but two detours. Thankfully we arrived a half hour before the opening and we were able to take a tour, see Samantha’s work and the shockingly high sale price they slapped on it. There was no way anyone other than Richard was going to pay that for it and only him because he was ridiculous about spoiling Sam and it was for a good cause. All proceeds from the sale of her piece would go to a local animal shelter. I was glad it went to charity and not to her. I couldn’t imagine her with that kind of money. Shit, I couldn’t imagine me with that kind of money.

As the event began, Sam pulled Richard aside and while I didn’t hear the discussion, I knew immediately he had lost his side of the argument, by his pout if nothing else.

The three of us wandered around the room, looking at piece after piece, never letting our eyes off of Sam. We wanted her to have her night and Mrs. St. John was there to be by her side and to talk art speak with the people who stopped to chat.

“So what was that about earlier, Richard?” Dusty asked what I’d been hoping he’d freely share. I tried not to get in the middle of things when it came to them and Sam, letting them forge their relationships in the most natural way possible. Sure, I flung her into the situation, first staying with them then living with them and now becoming family with them, but those bonds were hers to grow to whatever depth she felt comfortable.

“It seems that our little artist does not want me to buy her work.” I was more amused that it shocked him, knowing her, than by the little lip pout he was sporting. He’d loosened up so much since we first met. Old Richard never would’ve acted so silly in public. Never.

“And why would she think you would?” I scoffed, grabbing a few bacon-wrapped scallops off of the tray as the waiter passed by. I’d expected wine and cheese. The full array of appetizers they had going around was every pregnant man’s dream.

“Because I was going to,” he confessed.

“Ha. I knew it.” I popped one of the scallops into my mouth, savoring the way the bacon melted in my mouth.

“Did she say you couldn’t buy it, or we couldn’t?”

I could practically see the wheels turning in Dusty’s mind and just shook my head. He knew Sam better than that. As if using a loophole would keep any of us out of the doghouse. I had to give it to her, it was pretty impressive that she wanted to do this on her own. I just prayed someone bought it so she didn’t leave feeling like her first show was a failure.

Not that the room could be described as anything other than a success. It was packed with people whose shoes cost more than I used to make at both jobs in an entire month—before taxes, and she had people lined up to speak with her. Not to mention, I’d already noticed three numbers being removed from pieces, indicating their pending sales.

“She said I couldn’t.” Richard put his hand on Dusty’s shoulder, looking him square in the eye. “But you know her, if you jump in and do so, she’s going to rightfully blame me.”

He was beyond right on that one.

“I hope it sells, then. This is such a huge deal for her.” Dusty’s shoulders sank. He only wanted what we all wanted, Samantha to have an amazing night, one she would always remember and going home with her piece unsold would make that far less possible.

“Since the gallery owner just removed the number below it, I’d say none of this is anything we should be worried about.” I watched as the number was removed and a middle-aged woman with more value in jewelry on her ears than most people had value in their car, followed behind. Thank fuck.

“Shhhh, here she comes.” Dusty shhed far too loudly letting her know we were most definitely talking about her. Not that she appeared to care.

“We can go home now.” She bounced up and down on her toes, her face not hiding an ounce of her joy.

“How so?” I queried. Even if she sold it, we were not in a position to leave. Manners and all.

“It sold. I’m done.”

“Do you think that’s how it works?” I asked before pointing to my watch. “This goes another hour.”

Another hour I wished I could be off of my feet. But what was right was right. And if she didn’t learn those lessons young, she’d end up like half the people who came into the coffee shop who thought that their time was more valuable than anyone else’s.

“Look at you, Siah.” She squared her shoulder. “You are the size of a hot-air balloon and your ankles are hanging over your sneakers. Do you really think this is the best place for you to be?”

“She’s right.” Richard immediately jumped to her side, to the point of standing beside her as she tried to stare me down.

“Not helping.” I grumbled, fine, growled at Richard before bending down to talk to my sister in what I called my calm voice. “Sam. I am fine. If I weren’t we’d already be home now.”

“Fine, but if you have your baby tonight, we are going to have words.” Of that I had not a stitch of doubt.

“Fair enough, little sister, fair enough.”

She turned to walk back to where her piece was still being presented. I had to admit it was a pretty cool use of garbage and looked almost like it might be alive in some robotic kind of way. I didn’t really understand it, but from the results of the jury and the people congregating around it, I was the only one.

“And, Sam.” I touched her shoulder right before she took her first step.

“Yeah?” she asked turning her head.

“I’m proud of you.”

“We all are.” Dusty added, and with that she bound back to her audience. Ha. Imagine that, my little sister was an almost-famous artist.

An hour later we bid our goodbyes and headed back home, both Sam and I asleep before we even got to the highway. The next thing I knew we were getting woken up and ushered into the house. It had been a good night. A magical night.

“Good night, Sam.” I gave her a hug as she padded into her room still half-asleep. If I had to guess, she was going to walk out of her room in the morning having slept in her ruffles and lace.

“Now off to bed with you, too. You look dead on your feet.” Dusty gave me a little push in the direction of our bedroom.

“I’m actually not going to be able to sleep,” I counterargued and it was true. I was one who could sleep through any noise, including my alarm, but once I was up, I was up, and that was where I was at that moment. Exhausted but wide awake.

“Do I need to call Kai on you?” Richard asked as he took my hand, leading me to the bedroom, deciding Dusty’s attempt to get me there had failed. “He would tell you that baby needs to sleep in a tranquil and loving environment and that by interrupting your sleep you were interrupting his cocoon of cool.”

“Stop.” Dusty was cracking up a little too loudly, and I yanked him into the room as we got there. There was no need to wake up Sam, not for Richard’s hilarity. “You sound just like him. Do you think that’s work talk and he talks differently at home?”

“Like phone sex operators being all sexy talk and kinky on the phone with their deep voices and then speaking like a Yale law professor at the dinner table?” I conjectured. Because really, who talks like that. Not that I’d ever called one, but they were in the movies often enough for me to get the gist.

“I think that makes four. What do you think, Dustin?” And just like that Richard fell into his Daddy posture and voice. My cock was all-in to rise to the occasion.

“I thought it was five. What did you have?”

There was something beyond sexy about hearing them talk about my punishment that way. It was official, I was a kinky freak, but since they were into it as well, I was a kinky freak in good company.

“Sassing me.”

I’d seen it in his eyes when I made that elephant comment. Score one for the pregnant dude.

“Yeah. Did you have one or two for that?”

Two. Two. I scrambled my brain for a second instance, remembering quickly far more times than that just since we got dressed in our ties. Fair enough. I earned two for that, if that was his decision, because for some reason Richard deciding the punishment was half the freaking sexy in it.

“He is pregnant or I’d already know two.” Dusty was thinking far too hard on this, enjoying it as much as I was from the look of his tented pants. Dustin didn’t like to get spanked, he’d as much as said so, but he sure liked watching me get spanked, commenting headily about how my ass pinkened so beautifully.

“It was two.” Of course it was. Even if it were more, he’d have stopped there. As much as I hinted and sometimes outwardly begged for more, the most spanks he’s ever gifted me with had been five. “And obstinate. Oh, and let’s not forget this morning when he “forgot” to eat a healthy breakfast.”

Shit, how had he noticed that. And I didn’t forget or even quotes forget, my boy wanted that piece of chocolate cake and who was I to argue.

“I had those, also,” Dustin agreed before pointing at my feet. “And the sneakers.” He sighed as if they were the most distasteful things he’d ever seen. Sure, they weren’t amazing, but they were basic and far from hideous.

“Ahhh, I missed those.” Richard winked at Dustin. He so very much had not forgotten. This entire scenario a setup. Damn I was lucky to have two alphas who would go out of their way to get me this worked up before so much as kissing me.

“Hey, I’m pregnant. Sneakers are a must.” I was being a brat. And maybe it was to keep the scenario going. There was no maybe unto it, I was pushing boundaries, much to my cock’s pleasure.

“And arguing for six.” Richard spoke as if he were talking about the weather and not torturing me with sexy goodness.

“Fuck me,” I mumbled half to play the part and the other half in a plea. I needed them to fuck me right then and there. It had been at least a whole day since either man touched me and with the way my hormones were on crack, that was a good half a day too long.

“Oh, we very much plan to.”

My hand pressed into my erection, putting pressure on it to alleviate some of my need.

“FIrst your punishment and then we will get you in the shower so we can get you all clean before we dirty you up.”

I was the luckiest fucking omega in the universe. It was official.