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

Monday theme nights and then a “grand opening” where I invite all the littles and their caregivers to the club. I know that won’t cause any ripples with Harry and Javier and the more open-minded members, but I fully expect blow back from hard-liners like Ten and Karl. Even Nico, who helped with Pence’s punishment and is here this weekend, currently slapping down cards in the Hearts game, seems disconcerted by Emily’s littleness and might not appreciate a pack of littles taking over the club.

All the more reason to do it.

“Good,” says Harry. “Club’s become too entrenched. It needs shaking up.”

“Hope you’re not thinking I’m the man for that job,” I say. I don’t mind a little rebellion, or a rebellion of littles, but I’m not taking on the whole organization.

Harry grins.

“Fuck off,” I tell him.

“Still need to see this place,” Mac says.

Although Mac’s visited several times over the years, he’s never come to the club. While he was separated from his now ex-wife and observing a self-imposed vow of celibacy, it seemed cruel to take him to the club and shove everything he couldn’t enjoy under his nose.

“Give me a date and it’s the first place I’ll take you,” I respond.

Mac takes out his phone, opens it, and passes it across to me. “Started last week. Just waiting for my shit to arrive.”

I tilt the phone so I can read the displayed page. It’s a rental agreement for one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

“You did it,” I say, slapping him on the back. “Finally.”

“Mm-hmm. I’m a full-time resident of the great State of New York.”

“This is fucking miles away from me,” I grumble, but truthfully, I’m just happy Mac will be in the same state.

“Forty minutes by train,” Mac says. “I checked. It has a garage for my bike. Nothing I found closer did. Quit yer bitching, son. We’re going to be in the same state, much less same hemisphere, for the first time in years. You’ll be sick of the sight of me in no time.”

He’s completely wrong about that, but I’d rather show him than tell him.

“Emily and I are home on Tuesday night. You’ll come for dinner?”

Mac holds his hands up. “If you’ll let me bring the food.”

“That’s a deal. How about you bring the food and I bring the submissives?”

Mac lifts his eyebrows. “Submissives plural?”

“Ink on your divorce is dry. Time to start meeting people.”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. I’ll bring the food and you bring your little girl. Anyone else shows up and I’ll paddle you.”

Harry chortles. “Don’t let him bully you, Mac. ‘Sides, I’ve got not one but two clubhouses of leather-wearing ladies who love nothing better than a hog-riding man. You’re meeting them first. I call dibs.”

“Dibs? You make me sound like a prize bull, boys. I’m not looking for a date. I’ve got to get my daughter squared away. Then I’ll think about getting back into the scene.”

Harry lets out a gusty sigh. “I’ll tell the leather-wearing ladies. They’ll be mighty disappointed.”

Mac laughs and shakes his head.

“Are you playing tonight?” I ask both of them.

Harry nods. “Already told the house subs to expect to feel the kiss of my flogger tonight and Hunter’s in my bed. Mac, you’re welcome—”

Mac holds up a hand. “Thank you for the offer but no. I’ll play but that’s all.”

“Plenty of unattached subbies to play with this weekend,” I say.

“I know one who’s sitting tonight out,” Harry says.

“No argument there.”

Brenna’s not fit to play as long as she’s still on whatever painkillers have her owl eyed. But I also expect not to have to argue with her about it. For all her sass, Brenna’s a smart and experienced submissive. She won’t play when she’s not safe.

I double-check with Brenna after she finishes playing croquet, anyway. Before I get three words out, she’s holding up a hand.

“Wuvvent gonna play tonight, srr. Cun mon’tor. Er jus’ crash.” She waves at her chipmunk cheek. “Feelin’ iz now.”

Having listened to gag-speak for years, I decipher her meaning. “Thank you for offering, but I think we’re okay for scene monitors. If it’s hurting, you should get some rest. And I expect you to stay with us after your second visit to the dentist.”

She winces. “You ‘erd.”

Eventually, the Blunts subbies will realize that I’ve had Emily wired since Pence bullied her. I’ll never let her be in another situation where I don’t know she needs her daddy until it’s too late. The primary transmitter’s in her collar, but I have backups in all of her bras.

“I did. And I’m not happy with you. You may not answer to me directly, but you know how I feel about the house subs. You should have told me you needed surgery so someone could be with you.”

Her chin lifts and I’m sure her jaw would be setting like a fucking mule if it wasn’t full of stitches and gauze. “Aussin wid me.”

“Austin’s a good choice, but not adequate given his other commitments. I mean it, Brenna. Next time you’re in a foreseeable situation where you need someone looking out for you, I expect a call.”

She grumbles and avoids my eyes but eventually nods. “Srr.”

“Good. Good night. I hope you feel better in the morning. If you need anything in the night, knock on our door. I don’t want to hear in the morning that someone had to run you to the emergency room.”

She scowls ferociously. “Iz five stitches. Nah dyin’.”

“You will be dying if I find out you began bleeding or something in the night and didn’t knock. Do I need to put a baby monitor in with you?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Iddle haz an akkident.”

I chuckle. I wouldn’t put it past her to smash a baby monitor out of spite. “Sleep well.”

She scowls at me again but turns on her heel and heads back into the inn. I follow her, not because I’m checking that she’s going to bed, but because it’s time to set up for the scene and I have bags of