When Carly finally makes her way upstairs, she looks at me oddly. I am tempted to wink just to make her blush, but I won’t. Why? Because I’m shirtless. And I’m shirtless because Kiki insisted I take off the “Duck” shirt before allowing me to give her a bath.

So, no wink, none, because I am kind of annoyed with how my wife thinks she is Gloria Steinem and trying to teach my girls that men who say “grab pussy” are evil.

If that’s the case, a man like me is a monster, too, because I don’t want to grab it; I want to eat it, then fuck it so hard she will feel me for a week. But I sure as fuck don’t want my girls to know that shit, either.

Why?

They are too fucking young.

Fuck, little Bell is eleven and still plays with Barbies. I would like to keep her playing with those things until I catch her undressing Ken just to see what’s underneath, like her uncle X.

“Bell in the shower?” Carly asks, and I nod.

“You enjoying your bath?” she asks Kiki.

“Bubbles, Daddy,” she demands.

I give Carly a look, telling her I’m not happy, and she rolls her baby blues at me.

“We did bubbles, Kiki … twice. It’s time to get you out of the tub,” I tell her.

“No. Bubbles, Daddy.”

I am barely holding my shit together tonight, so I don’t want round three of bubbles with the little tub tyrant. I want a grown-up discussion with Carly.

I actually would like to spank her ass right now. Send her to bed, take away her social media, tie her up, and tease her until she’s begging me to fuck her, and maybe even insist she call me “The Jase” just to drive home the point.

The point that …

What the fuck is the point?

“Daddy’s tired, Kiki. He had a long day at work. How about you get two stories tonight?” Carly says from behind me.

Then she’s beside me. Too fucking close after that little fantasy, way too close.

Damn it!

My wife’s tits are beautiful. They are. And I tend to focus on them when I’m a little pissed off, which I am now. So, when she is bending over the bathtub, round ass in the air, tits sticking out of the top of her shirt, holding out a towel for Kiki to climb into, I am focusing on her tits.

And yes, I want to grab them.

I stand up quickly before I get hard, lean over, and kiss Kiki. “Goodnight. Love you, Kiki.”

I grab the shirt and throw it on while stopping myself from sticking my tongue out at my wife.

As I leave the room, I tell Carly, “I’m going to shower, then I’ll read to Bell.”

“Bad duck, Daddy!” Kiki yells at me.

“Shhh, Katherine. It’s just a shirt,” Carly tells her.

No, it’s not just a shirt. It’s a statement

Once I have taken things into my own hands—yes, both; it’s that big—I throw on a pair of pajama pants then head into Bella’s room

“Privacy?” she gasps.

“Privacy? You’re eleven, you’re my kid, and this is my house,” I say as I flop on her bed.

She groans, rolls her eyes, and closes her laptop.

“Bella …” I raise my eyebrow at her, warning her to keep the ’tude in check.

She huffs and lays back in her bed. “Are you and Momma Carly still fighting? Is that why you’re reading to me like I’m five?”

“You like me to read to you,” I remind her as I go to grab a book off her bookshelf.

“Not that one,” she says, taking away the book I just pulled out.

“Why not?” I ask, reaching for it.

She drops it on the floor beside the bed.

“Tell me why you’re fighting,” she says, rolling to her side and looking at me.

“We aren’t,” I tell her.

“It’s because of the signs and your shirt, Dad. I’m not a baby. I know.”

“Then why you asking me, Bell?”

She shrugs and rolls onto her back. “Kiki hates him.”

“I sensed that.” I nod as I roll to my side and look at her.

“So, why do you have on the shirt?”

“Well, because,” I answer, trying to think of a way to make this conversation child-friendly.

“To piss Momma Car—”

“Mouth, kiddo,” I warn, even though I want to laugh at the fact she knows exactly why I’m wearing this shirt.

She groans dramatically. “I didn’t swear.”

“Rephrase,” I tell her just like I always do when she gets too sassy, which is normally after a family dinner with my brothers.

“You’re trying to make her mad,” she says in a baby voice, driving home her point, which I would applaud, but she’s my kid, so I don’t, even though it’s funny as hell. “Which is childish.” This time she uses her normal voice.

“When did you get so smart?” I ask, and that gains me a big grin.

Mush. The kid makes me soft.

“I’ve always been smart.”

“Good, then you run for president someday and I’ll vote for you.”

“No way.” She smiles even bigger. “Politics suck.”

“Bella …” I shake my head.

“It does, Dad. Kids at school are fighting over who sucks worse, and—”

“Bell, easy on the suck, okay?” I interrupt.

“Fine, but it’s stupid. My friends aren’t even talking to each other because they’re picking a president the other doesn’t like.” She sits up and throws her hands in the air. “They can’t even vote! What is wrong with them?”

“That’s why you aren’t supposed to discuss politics or religion in public. Too many people get carried away.”

She points toward my shirt. “Like you?”

I grab her hand and pretend I’m going to bite it. She laughs as she yanks it away.

“We aren’t arguing because she’s voting for Hillary. We’re arguing because we agreed not to make a big deal out of the election.”

“Momma Carly agreed not to make a big deal out of a woman running for president?” She laughs.

“Right.” I laugh back as she lies back down.

“Why don’t you want a woman president, Daddy?”

And … I get Daddy from my little Bell. That’s a fucking win tonight.

“It’s not about her being a woman, Bell. I just don’t agree with her.”

“But you agree with Trump?” she asks, looking at me almost like Kiki did when she saw the shirt. “He wants to build a wall around our country.”

“Don’t listen to the talk, Bella. Listen to facts. He wants to keep this country safe.” Knowing that’s far above her head, I explain in kid terms. “We have a security system here at home. Not because I don’t want visitors, but I don’t want anyone coming in here who might have bad intentions. So, if this home was our country and I was the president, that would be my way of building a wall. And Bell, if this family were in trouble, you bet your … butt I would build a wall and stand on it with a missile launcher.”

“You’d kill people?” she says on a gasp.

“I’d do whatever it took to keep you safe.”

“Like at school with the new metal detectors we walk through.” She nods.

“Absolutely. And at Steel, too.”

I leave out that Cyrus installed all the systems at home, school, and Steel. And yes, we donated the equipment to five area schools.

“Hillary won’t keep us safe?”

Again, TMI for kid ears. I won’t tell her about all the shit she has done any more than I would tell her Trump has fucked up, too. I will just give her the truth.

“He’s the candidate I choose to support. His agenda best matches what I want for our country.”

“Then how come Carly …?” She stops then nods. “Mimi calls her every day. They talk about the election and how happy they are that a woman may soon be in office.”

Fuck, I think then nod. “Your grandma Katherine would have been the same as Mimi. Well, maybe not the same, but as excited.”

“Bet Carly misses her,” she whispers.

“Yeah, little Bell, I bet she does.”

Bella yawns then smiles. “I’d vote for Trump, too, Daddy.”

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Yep, but Kiki wouldn’t.”

“No, I doubt she would.”

Bella reaches over and takes my hand. “Read me a book?”

“Yeah, Bella, of course.”

When I go into our room, Carly is sitting on the bed, waiting for me. She takes in a deep breath then yawns.

My baby is tired.

“I know what you are going to say, and I can assure you I didn’t try to brainwash Katherine,” she says, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.

I shrug, pushing my pajama pants off as I climb into bed.

I watch as her eyes dart from my cock to my eyes, and then right back down to my cock.

She licks her lips as I lie down, link my hands behind my neck, and watch her getting all hot for the prince.

“I’m pissed at you about the sign, but the shirt, Jase? Take that stupid thing off.” She points at my shirt while looking at my cock.

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Not happening, baby. I’m gonna wear this shirt until election day.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No crazier than you are for making Kiki afraid of a duck.”

“That was Mimi,” she says then covers her mouth.

That crazy lady, I don’t doubt it.

“What did she say to her, Carly?”

“This is stupid, Jase. Just get rid of the shirt,” she grumbles as she gets into bed, making sure there is fifty feet between us.

“No can do.”

“I’ll burn it,” she grumbles, pulling the covers up and nearly covering her eyes.

I chuckle. “I’ll burn your sign.”

She sighs and looks at me. “You’re not mad.”

“No, I’m mad, but again, the girls don’t need to be in the middle of a pissing match, so we are just gonna make a game out of this.” I pause when her eyes widen. “When Trump wins, you have to call me The Jase at least every day for a week … and when I’m grabbing that pussy.”

“That’s vulgar.” She narrows her eyes at me.

“You’ve been eye-fucking my cock, and that’s vulgar?”

“Well, you have that thing all …” She rolls to her side and groans. “Put it away.”

“Where would you like me to put it, Carly?” I ask, and I swear her back arches. “Inside that sweet little cun—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Pussy?”

“Asshole.”

“Perfect!” I laugh and clap my hands. “When Trump wins, you have to do what I said—call me The Jase and beg me to stick it in your ass.”

“I think not,” she says, sitting up and glaring at me.

“So, you admit he’s gonna win?”

Her face contorts in all sorts of angry yet adorable expressions.

“That’s what I thought,” I say smugly.

“He won’t win. Not every American is a … Neanderthal like you!”

I stick my hand out. “Then let’s shake on it.”

“Oh no, not until you agree to …” She pauses, scratching her head in thought. I honestly can’t think of what the hell she’s going to come up with that I would possibly say no to, since I know Americans want their country safe and are just as sure Trump is going to win.

“You have to yell ‘all hail Hillary’ when her name is mentioned on the news,” she says all badass like.

I stick my hand out to agree as I chuckle inside.

“And you have to call me ‘The Hillary’ as I use a vibrator to get myself off.”

If her face wasn’t changing fifty shades of red while trying to look like a badass, I may have been a little annoyed at her suggestion to use a fucking plastic dick when mine’s not been in her for a week, but this, this is way too much fun.

“Deal.” I stretch out my hand.

Her eyes grow huge. She looks shocked.

“Deal,” she says as she shakes my hand. “It’s not like the entire country won’t be taking it in the butt if that man wins. I may as well, too.”

“It. Is. On.” When I wink at her, she fucking laughs.