The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
Read free book Β«The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) πΒ» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
Read book online Β«The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) πΒ». Author - Frost, J
Rick spreads his hands, and his knees. His pants are too tight for me not to notice how much he likes the idea of having Rachel for the night. βCβmon, not even for you?β He looks to Daisy. βYou will not believe this girl. The mouth on her. And she looks like a cross between BeyoncΓ© and JLo. Fucking rocket.β
Daisy rolls her eyes and goes back to whatever she was saying to Emily.
βYouβre wasting your wood,β I tell Rick. βLucyβs a bombshell. And available. Ask for her when you get downstairs.β
Rick shrugs. βGuess Iβll have to, if you wonβt share.β
I ignore his jab. Rachel hasnβt been mine to share in months, and Iβm never sharing Emily with anyone. Ever. How strongly I feel about that takes me by surprise. I havenβt been possessive with my bottoms before. If they wanted to be shared, Iβve been happy to share them. Maybe itβs the daddy-thing, but Iβd honestly take the hand off anyone who tried to touch Emily.
The subject of my primitive line of thought sits relaxed against my side. Sheβs continued her quiet conversation with Daisy while Rickβs been yanking my chain, but itβs probably too much to hope that she hasnβt been listening. Should I prepare her for meeting Rachel? No, she knows I have a past, just like she does. Thereβs no reason it should be weird or awkward for her to meet one of my former bottoms. Would I be uncomfortable meeting one of her old tops? I donβt think so. If anything, Iβd like to shake Matthewβs hand; he trained her well and didnβt commit the sin of sticking his dick in her.
βWhen are you leaving for L.A.?β Rick asks, pulling me back to the conversation.
βFlightβs Thursday afternoon. Are you going out any time soon?β Rickβs a native New Yorker, but he splits his time between coasts.
He nods. βNext Wednesday. Shooting starts Friday.β
βWhatβs this one?β
He grins, flashing his brilliant white veneers. βSexmanji.β
βLike Jumanji only with kink?β
βYou got it.β
That doesnβt quite fit together in my head, since Jumanji involved Robin Williams, or The Rock, if youβre into remakes, and rampaging animals, none of which is synonymous with kinky sex for me, but Iβve learned not to ask. For all I know, itβs porn with balloon animals.
Before I have to think about the potential uses for balloon animals, Manny pulls up in front of the long brick frontage of my club. On the weekends, we have valet service and one of the valets immediately descends to deal with the car. I unbuckle Emily and help her out. Manny falls in on her far side and Iβm pleased to see she doesnβt shrink away from him this time. We herd Rick and Daisy in front of us up the two steps to the clubβs entrance.
Thereβs no red carpet, no awning, no neon sign. The only identification is a brass plate beside the front door: Blunts, Founded 1864, Members Only.
Through the revolving door, thereβs a marble atrium big enough for maybe a dozen people. The large reception desk is staffed twenty-four-seven, but Iβm surprised to see that itβs Maude behind the desk. Sheβs more usually found at a spanking bench than a security desk. She looks like someoneβs granny, and she does bake a mean cupcake, but put a whip in the womanβs hand and she becomes one of the strictest tops Iβve ever met. When I was on the training committee, I turned the most wayward bottoms over to her for discipline. They came back humbled and ready for instruction. I have no idea what she did to them, only that Iβd never want to be on the receiving end of one of Mistress Maudeβs lessons.
Despite the fact that Iβve known Maude for over seven years, and have been naked in front of her dozens, if not hundreds, of times, she greets me like Iβm a complete stranger. Thatβs one of the clubβs safety protocols. As are the passwords I give her, which we change weekly. The last thing any of us want is a reporter getting through the inner door.
Maude lines up four tablets on the reception deskβs marble surround. After she explains the non-disclosure, waiver and electronic signature, she ignores Manny, Rick and Daisy, but smiles warmly at Emily.
βWelcome to Blunts, dear,β she says. βI hope you enjoy your dinner. Leave a little room for the tiramisu. Itβs fabulous.β
I shake my head at Maude. Thereβs no reason sheβd know that I made dinner reservations except that sheβs an incorrigible busybody.
Emily smiles shyly at her. βI love tiramisu.β
βExcellent. So nice to meet you, dear. If you need anything at all while youβre here, just ask for Maude.β
βThank you, maβam.β Emily hands the tablet back.
Maude collects the other three and waves us toward the inner door, where two of our security guards are standing like a pair of black bookends.
βLogan, just a moment.β
Maudeβs voice grabs me like a noose. Damn that woman.
I return to her marble pedestal. βYeees?β
Her eyes, two flints behind a pair of tortoise-shell-rimmed glasses, track to the door. When Emily lingers, eyes on me, good little sub, Maude flicks her fingers to shoo Emily through and waits until the inner door closes.
βOne, Iβm glad to see youβve moved on,β she tells me. βMiranda never was any good for you.β
βLast check, you still werenβt my mother,β I say, keeping my tone gentle. Maudeβs a friend, a good friend, even when sheβs sticking her beak where it is very much not wanted. βAnd two?β
βTwo, Rachel is manning the desk upstairs. Sheβs seen the dinner reservation. Sheβs the one who brought it to my attention. Sheβs upset. You should avoid her.β
Ah-ha. That explains Maudeβs presence on the door. She was waiting for me.
Comments (0)