The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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Niall gives me a grin thatβs no less wolfish than mine. βYer denying her orgasms until the ceremony, eh?β
βToo fucking right. Howβd you guess?β
βI did it before collarinβ each of βem. I made Shaan go a month. Boy was so pent up by the end he came nine times in one night. He was begginβ meh not to make him come by thβ end. Sweetest fecking music Iβve ever heard.β
βYou are such an evil fucker.β I laugh and rise with him as he finishes his water. After tossing the empties in the recycling, I make a quick check of the innβs doors and windows. Niall laughs at me and when I realize what Iβm doing, I join him.
As we head upstairs, Niall asks, βWhoβs joining us here tomorrow?β
βAt the inn? All of your competition: Javier, Warrin, and Mac. Warrinβs little, Aggie. Maude, Dana, and Austin. I think youβve spoken to Austin a couple of times.β At his nod, I continue. βHarry, from the club; heβs going to bunk in with Mac. There are a couple of the club submissives sharing a room and another couple from D.C. who I donβt think youβve met.β
βThe scaly and her master? Emmyβs told Vashi about the dragon-girl so many times, I think I could paint a picture of her.β
I chuckle. βEmmyβs excited about seeing Laurel again. And if she hadnβt set her heart on this whole dark fairy tale theme for the weekend, I think weβd all be dressing up as dragons.β
Niall slaps me on the back and nearly knocks me down the stairs. Fuck, he needs to bench less.
βIβve always fancied having wings, meself.β
I roll my eyes at him. βPiss off. Youβd have arm-wrestled me for the chance to wear that Boglioli suit at the ceremony. Vashi told Emmy all about it. She says you stroke it for an hour every night before you go to sleep.β
βIβll kill her,β Niall chortles. βItβs not even a half-hour.β
βYou sad, sad sack.β
βYeh wonβt say that once youβve seen it. Best hang of any jacket Iβve ever owned. Saville Row can feck right off.β
I shake my head at him. Although I did splash out a bit for both my outfit for the Mad Hatterβs Tea Party and the ceremony itself, I didnβt throw two grand at either suit. Heβs mental.
βAt least you can reuse it in January,β I say.
Niall face takes on a very sly cast.
βWhat?β
βEver heard of the Flying Elvises?β
I eye him warily as we stop in front of our respective doors. βSky diving Elvises, right?β
βI used to dive before I broke me back. Doan know if I ever told you that. I got a clean bill of health, so theyβre lettinβ me dive with them. Iβm Irish Elvis.β
βIrish Elvis,β I say flatly. Thereβs getting married by Elvis at the Care Bear wedding Emilyβs planning and then thereβs having Irish Elvis crash the party.
βUh-huh, Iβm all shook up, slΓ‘inte.β
I snort.
Niall slaps me on the back again. Iβm going to have a bruise. βSee you in the morning, gobshite.β
βNight, wanker. Iβm knocking at eight-thirty. Donβt you try claiming jet lag.β
Chuckling, Niall disappears into his room.
Shaking my head at the idea of Irish Elvis, I head into our suite.
Emily glances up from where sheβs sitting on the bed amidst a pile of pink pillows and teddy bears when I enter. She shuts her laptop hastily.
I begin to strip off my shirt. βThatβs an extremely guilty look, little girl.β
βI was researching, Daddy,β she says.
I turn that over in my head as I fold my T-shirt and take off my belt. She could legitimately be researching something naughty for her books. Despite how much weβve done together, she sometimes gets bashful when I discover pages on primal play and bestiality in her search history. But Emilyβs a blusher and that sort of research usually results in fiery red cheeks. Her sweet cheeks are pale. As much as I give my little girl the benefit of the doubt, I feel like she might be hiding something behind that quickly-closed clamshell.
βResearching what?β I ask, unbuttoning my jeans.
βUm. Stuff.β
Sheβs so busted.
I toe off my shoes and strip down to my skin.
βStuff like where Sean and Moon can stay?β
She twists her hands together. Yup, exactly that kind of stuff.
βWhat did I say, little girl?β
βI took it off my To Do list!β she protests. βI had a little free time, so I just thought Iβd email a couple of places to see if they had any cancellations because everything around here is booked up.β
βAnd this is your problem, why?β
βI just want everyone to have a good time.β
βEveryone will except you if you keep worrying about this crap, Emmy. I mean it, thatβs the last effort you make to find someone a place to stay, or arrange a special meal, or find a goddamn drycleaner. Enough. Next time I have to tell you, itβs discipline. Are we clear?β
βYes, Daddy,β she whispers, staring at her working hands.
βCβmon, little love. This isnβt what I wanted for tonight. Letβs get you in the bath. Did you bring bubbles?β
She nods and a hint of color returns to her cheeks. She slides out of the pillow/stuffie stockade, tucks her laptop away, and opens one of the several bags sheβs brought. Itβs a good thing we came by train, because I donβt think we could have stuffed all our luggage into a car. Not even Mannyβs damn limo.
She brings out a small bag of toiletries and opens it in front of me so I can see the selection of bath products. I flick past the lavender bubbles I usually use because I donβt want to gear down toward sleep yet. I stop at a bottle with a unicorn on it. βUnicorn bubbles?β
She nods. βRainbow.β
I pull out the bottle. She deserves rainbow bubbles. βPut everything away, get undressed except for your
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