Page 66 of At Their Mercy: Part I

“Yeah, that’s not gonna be a problem, baby,” Reese assured.

He walked first toward the hallway, using his phone to open the gate, and Shay stayed close to me as we followed.

It’d be nice to see Romeo and Lima again. I’d missed them. They’d already become part of what made this our home. Lying on the couch with a good book and a cup of coffee and hearing their little paws was as homey as things could get.

Reese unlocked the door and stepped out onto the porch, and Shay went after. I stayed in the doorway, seeing the Paynes pull up behind my truck. With two excited pups in the back seat.

Nice SUV, by the way. Something told me it was property of The Hillcroft Group. Danny otherwise preferred sports cars and trucks, and Em liked classics and sleek sedans. They undoubtedly had a truck on their ranch for all the dogs. Or farm, since Em was evidently into growing vegetables now.

We had a lot of catching up to do.

Em came out from the driver’s side, in civilian clothes, jeans and a fitted button-down with sleeves folded up that showed off he still went to the gym regularly⁠—

“Jesus, he’s fine,” Shay mumbled.

I fucking knew it. I’d called it.

“Hush, boy, you’re spoken for,” Reese said.

Shay grinned and rolled his eyes. “But I can call Master Greer and Ty sexy as hell, and you won’t bat an eye.”

“That’s different,” Reese insisted.

At that point, Em set Romeo and Lima free, and they rushed over to us. Especially Shay, who was more than excited to reconnect.

“Oh yeah, I missed you too, my sweet boys,” he gushed.

Danny climbed out too, and he wore standard-issue Hillcroft wear. No logos or anything, but the signature utility pants and custom Henley. Hillcroft had always been one part uniform and one part gray man. We had to be equipped like a soldier but blend in like a civilian, which reflected in the outfits they issued to operators and instructors.

“If it ain’t a Norman Rockwell painting,” Danny said with a smirk.

“Yeah, that’s us,” Reese laughed. “All-American and traditional.”

I chuckled through my nose.

Then it was time for greetings, and this was one of the exceptions where I didn’t mind a hug. Emerson gave good hugs. A quick, firm embrace that ended with him giving a shoulder squeeze.

“How are you, lad?”

“Good. You?”

“Fantastic.” He smiled and moved on to hug Reese too. “Happy birthday, you two.”

Danny and I exchanged a one-armed hug, and he eyed Shay. “You really fucking do have a type, don’t you?”

I figured he’d notice. He and Shay were…similar. Danny had a bit more bulk than Shay, not to mention he was twice Shay’s age, but it was still there. The dirty-blond hair, the bodies built for speed and martial arts, the bad-boy vibe, the downright criminally stunning blue eyes, fair complexion, and tattoos. Although Danny wasn’t as tatted up as Shay was.

Em and Danny had been our first exposure to Daddy kink. Reese and I had read about it and whatnot, but it was thanks to these two men that Reese had really discovered it. They’d also been the main fuel for our voyeurism back in the day. We were all shameless, and they hadn’t minded one bit having two twenty-year-old punks watching them fuck. It was the extent of what’d taken place between us; they had played and lived out their lifestyle, and my brother and I had watched and gotten ideas about our own future.

Someone had blessed Danny’s gene pool. Emerson was the type of man who only got hotter with age; his age was showing, and he was still handsome and charismatic as fuck. Danny, on the other hand, seemed to be evading it altogether. He didn’t look a day over thirty-five, which felt weird. I wasn’t supposed to look older than him, dammit.

“…great to meet you too,” Shay was saying, in the middle of being introduced to Emerson. He glanced hesitantly at Reese. “Do I call him Sir?”

Reese didn’t miss a beat and responded before Em could dismiss it. “Yes.”

Good. I liked that answer.

“It’s certainly not necessary or expected,” Em replied.