The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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βEmily, whatβs going on behind those pretty eyes?β Logan asks, breaking my train of thought. βDo you need the hairbrush?β
He thinks my eyes are pretty?
βNo, sir.β I havenβt heard a peep out of HIM since the bathroom. Just being with Logan is very peaceful, even when heβs not punishing me. βI was just admiring your focus. Iβm really scattered. I mean, I can focus when Iβm writing, but the rest of the time?β I shake my head. βEven when Iβm researching, half the time I end up writing down facts that amuse or interest me but arenβt even on topic.β
Logan wrinkles his chin. βThat might make your research slow, but I bet you learn about a lot of different subjects.β
βI do,β I admit.
βDo you get your ideas for your books from your research?β
βNot really. This might sound crazy, given what I write, but most of my ideas come from French fairy tales. My mother used to read them to me when I was little. βThe Bee and the Orange Tree.β βPrince Marcassin.β βThe Pigeon and the Dove.β I loved all those stories. There was sorrow and loss, but there was also enchantment and sacrifice and true love. Thatβs what inspires me.β
Logan reaches out and takes my free hand again. He lifts it to his lips and kisses my fingertips. βI like that. I donβt know any of those fairy tales.β He takes the pad of my middle finger into his mouth and nips it. βBring them on the cruise. We could read one each night as a bedtime story.β
I stare at him. I told my ex-husband and one of my Doms about my muse; Ash gave me a beautiful leather-bound volume of Baroness dβAulnoyβs Les Contes de FΓ©es for our first anniversary. But not a single one of them has offered to read them with me.
It takes me a minute to find my voice. Then I stammer, βI-I would love that.β
βGood.β With a final kiss, Logan releases my hand. βAre you about finished? Would you like a cup of tea? Iβm going to have coffee.β
βYes, please. Were you going to order dessert?β I ask hesitantly. βMistress Maude recommended the tiramisu.β
He grimaces. βMaude has a big mouth. But I doubt sheβd steer us wrong about dessert. Iβd be happy to order it, if youβd like to share it.β
βJust a bite. Could I have peppermint tea if they have it? If not, any herbal tea is fine.β
Logan nods. βNo caffeine, or is it a taste thing?β
βBoth. I kicked caffeine and cigarettes four years ago.β
βAt the same time? You really are a masochist.β
βYes, sir.β I laugh. βNew life, new me. No caffeine, no cigarettes, no more weeks in my grungy jammies. That was when I finally agreed to meet Matthew. To try to whole thing for real. He put up with me being the grumpiest Iβve ever been, including finals week at college. I earned a lot of punishments, those first couple of months.β
Logan smiles. βHow long were you with him?β
βAlmost two years, but it was very much an every-other-weekend thing.β
βThen he showed up at the dungeon party with someone else?β
βOh, no, that wasnβt him.β That was BenβDFourβwho was good in bed, and a complete asshole out of it. βMatty worked in structural engineering. He got this amazing job opportunity, but it was in Costa Rica.β
βYou didnβt consider going with him?β
βHe didnβt offer and I didnβt ask.β
I didnβt even consider asking. I thought my whole life was in Syracuse. I couldnβt imagine leaving. Looking back now, on the missed opportunity to live in Costa Rica for a couple of years, I canβt imagine why I didnβt.
Weβre interrupted by the return of the waiter, who clears our empty plates and takes Loganβs dessert and drinks order. I feel that hot rush in my cheeks and groin when he orders for me. Itβs such a little thing. A little, perfect thing.
βSir,β I say when the waiter leaves. βWeβve talked all about me. Can we talk about you?β
Logan shakes his head. βI like that youβre opening up to me. If Iβm going to top you, I need to understand what makes you tick. And we have talked about me. Iβve told you about my business and the Navy.β
βAnd the bodily functions of men on high-protein diets,β I quip, and he grins back at me. βI just donβt have a good sense of what you like.β
βWhat I like. Mmm.β Logan rubs his chin, pretending to consider the question seriously. βI like flowers. Long walks on the beach. Sunday mornings in bedββ He cracks the grin he was suppressing.
βYouβre mean.β
βI can be mean.β The grin turns into a leer. βBut most of the time Iβm an indulgent top. I think thatβs one of the reasons the stuff I read about being a daddy clicked for me. I love the idea of spoiling my girl. Iβm all about creating a safe space for play, anyway, so letting you express your inner child in that space isnβt a big step.β
I would throw myself at his feet if we werenβt in a restaurant. I might, anyway, if he keeps saying things like that. βWhat did your other bottoms do in that space?β
βDifferent things.β He doesnβt elaborate and I wonder if he doesnβt want to talk about his previous subs. Maybe Iβm just not asking the right questions.
βI guess Iβm just wondering, if you havenβt been a daddy before, what you like?β I stumble over the words, like Iβve missed a step and have to throw my hands out for balance. I swear, I can write thousands of pages of snappy dialogue, but when I have to say something marginally intelligent to a real man, I sound like a
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