The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) 📕

Logan reaches out and threads his fingers through mine. “I’ve got you.”

He does. He holds me tightly as he spreads his knees and begins to surge within me. The angle is perfect, and his thick crown bumps my cervix, sending bright shocks through me that make my toes curl. He maintains a hard, but unhurried, rhythm matching the beat of the music he has playing: The Sugababes’ “Too Lost in You.” Each stroke glides all the way from my opening to my core, over and over. The motion fills me, hot and sharp and very delicious. I roll against the bed, shoulder to shoulder, as much as the bondage and his hold on me allows, wallowing in pleasure.

“That it,” Logan growls. “That’s my baby girl. Let it all out. Come for me.”

His hands shift, sliding around to press against my belly, pushing down against his upward thrusts. Hard shivers begin under our joined hands and then it starts, sucking in-in-in, like I’m pulling Logan inside my skin, we’re so deeply connected. He groans and the moment stretches, drawn out by his deep thrusts.

When it spills over, I sob through the sharp ripples of my orgasm, “Ta, Daddy, thank you. Ta so much.”

I sink back into the bed, dissolving into delirious shivers.

After he’s made me come, Logan releases my legs and changes position, sitting up against the headboard and pulling me into his lap so I’m riding him. Except I never really ride Daddy because he never gives me that much control. He fists his hand in my hair, clamps his arm around my hips, and dictates every thrust. Our movements make a delicious sound: wet and meaty and unmistakable. The feelings our movements create are even more delicious, winding the tension tighter and tighter until I’m flying again. I’m not quite coming. I’m riding the edge and he knows it and he keeps me there. Not thrusting hard or fast enough to push me over into my orgasm, but never letting me down from it, either. I whimper and pant and beg and promise I’ll do any-any-anything for him, if he just gives me what I need.

Finally, he takes my hands and puts them in the small of my back. He closes his fingers around my wrists and pulls backwards, so I’m arched over his legs. The position changes the angle of his penetration and he bumps hard into my cervix, giving me that perfect bite again. I howl with pleasure and Logan groans. Just as my body goes wild around him, he releases control, slamming up into me. There’s a furious moment that stretches, where our bodies strain together, and then release pours through us, out and into each other. I take as much from him as he does me, and give as much back.

He releases my wrists and brings me down onto his chest as I go limp. He holds me, stroking my back, while we pant through the aftershocks. His body still inside mine, his chest pressed to my breasts, his palm moving up and down my sweaty back, they keep me grounded. Otherwise, I’d be shooting off into the stratosphere, I’m so light and floaty.

A sound pulls me back to Earth. Logan takes a deep, broken breath. He chokes, presses his lips against my temple, and whispers, “I’m so fucking sorry, Emmy.”

I try to pull back to see his face, but his hand clasps the nape of my neck and holds me, tucked into his neck. Oh, no, what’s happened? Didn’t he enjoy it?

“Daddy, what’s wrong?”

“Everything. What the fuck am I doing? Inviting Miranda into our house. The paternity test. I know this is hurting both of us but I don’t know how to stop it and I’m afraid . . . I’m so fucking afraid, sweetheart. What if the baby’s mine?”

Oh, my poor daddy.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Daddy.” I stroke whatever I can reach. His cheek, his throat, his shoulder.

“It’s not okay. None of this is okay.”

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and huggle him tightly.

“Promise it’s okay. Promise-promise. I know this is really hard. But you’ll do the right thing. I know you will. I believe in you.”

“Oh, sweetheart—”

“I couldn’t love you so much if you weren’t so decent. Do you remember in L.A., when you told me why you hurt me? Why you felt so bad?”

He nods, his cheek rubbing against mine. “Because of the feelings I had about Lizbeth.”

“Because you felt bad. You never acted on those feelings. You never hurt her. You suffered through the feelings. Because you’re a good person. I’ve told you I fell for you that night.” I turn my head as much as he lets me and kiss him in that soft, warm spot under his jaw. “I fell for you because I knew I could trust you no matter what. I do, Daddy. I trust you to do the right thing. Not the easy thing, but the right thing.”

“Oh, little love.” He takes several broken breaths. “Thank fuck for you.”

I hug him some more and stroke his neck and shoulders. “And if you get custody and need my little room for a nursery, that’s okay, I don’t mind.”

He chuckles into my hair. “No, but thank you for offering. We’ll use the guest room. I love your little room. It’s a special space. I don’t want to lose it. I just . . . how can I ask you to take on a kid that’s not even yours?”

He’s worried about me?

“Daddy, please. Let that be the last thing on your mind. I wouldn’t ever want to replace Miranda as the baby’s mother but I could be a really good babysitter. Maybe we could think of it like that?”

“We could.” He sighs. “And because I’m a complete pervert, now all I can think of is coming home to find the naughty babysitter watching dirty movies and having to discipline her.”

I giggle and nuzzle into him, reassured that we’ll make this work somehow. Do