The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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Logan grins. βThatβs a good word. How old were you when the adult stuff began weighing you down?β
βI guess around fourteen.β I know exactly when it was. My first year of high school, when everything crashed in on me. As wonderful as he is, thatβs not something Iβm ready to tell him about. Particularly not over the phone where I canβt curl up in his arms.
βThatβs the little I saw at my club, isnβt it?β At my nod, he continues. βI like that little. Sheβs a naughty girl I love to play with. But I also like when you go younger and play hide-and-seek and suck your thumb. Could that be part of bad-baby?β
I sucked my thumb until I was fourteen and Maman made me get braces. βSure.β
βMmm, Iβll do some more reading and see what flips my switch. Iβm guessing you donβt have any of the baby gear?β
I shake my head. βI donβt have a nursery or anything.β
I have teddy bears, including the teddy buried under the pillow the phone is propped against, but my teddies are not something I show to my Doms. Thereβs being little, and then thereβs the soul-deep comfort of sleeping with my teddies. My Doms donβt need to know about that.
βDonβt worry about the gear. I can get whatever we want through the club. Youβd be amazed at what some of the members have.β He grins into the phone. βI donβt know if I told you this already, baby doll, but the Daddy thing is really working for me. I havenβt been this fired up in years.β
I grin back and the slight discomfort of talking about my kink fades back to the usual warm glow I feel when Iβm with Logan. βReally?β
βYeah. I canβt believe Iβve missed out on this for so long. Iβve seen couples that must have been Daddies and Mommies with their littles, but it never registered.β Logan taps his temple. βBut itβs in here now. So I hope youβve got plenty of time available, baby doll. βCause weβve got a lot of playing to do.β
I stroke my middle finger down the edge of the phone, wishing it was his jaw. βYes, Daddy. As much time as you want.β
βMmm.β Logan stretches back into the pillows; his grin goes from Wolf-Daddy to German shepherd. He looks happy and relaxed, which makes me happy and relaxed, too. βLetβs talk about that. Iβm kind of addicted to schedules, so Iβll have one for each day on the cruise, and Iβll do one for you, too, so you know when your timeβs yours and when itβs mine. How many hours a day do you usually spend working?β
I shrug. βDepends. If Iβm on a writing jag, ten or twelve hours. But I burn out pretty fast writing that much. Itβs more usually six or seven hours. Sometimes itβs just one or two. I write every day, though.β Thatβs a discipline I got into before my first book even came out.
βCan we compromise on six a day while weβre on the cruise? Two in the morning or evening and four in the afternoon? That way we can eat together and still have plenty of time for play.β
βYes, sir, that would be great.β Although I canβt keep any schedule when Iβm on my own, I love the idea of him giving me one. Knowing he cares enough to plan each day for me lights me up. βDid you do that with your other subs? Give them a schedule?β
βSome.β He doesnβt elaborate. βHow about we get started on it now? Itβs twelve-forty.β A glance at the clock confirms heβs right, even though it feels like five minutes since we started talking. βMy baby girl needs at least seven hours of sleep. So from now on bedtime is absolutely no later than midnight. You can have one story and then I want you to go to sleep. If you wake up before eight, you roll over and go back to sleep. Do you have any of your fairy tales handy?β
I nod. I always keep a book of them next to my bed. At the moment, itβs the Lyons version of One Thousand and One Nights.
βPick one story. A short one. And read it to me.β
βYes, sir.β
I pick βThe Ebony Horse,β which I read a few days ago and is long enough to feel satisfying but not so long it will antagonize Logan. Whether itβs the lack of sleep over the last few days, or Logan commanding me to sleep, I feel my eyelids getting heavy as I read. I stifle a yawn or two as I read the last page, and when I finish, Iβm more than ready to put the book away, turn off the light and go to sleep.
βNight-night, baby doll,β Logan whispers to me, his voice warm and soft in the dark, like an extra blanket.
βNight-night, Daddy. Best phone date ever,β I say around a yawn.
βOh, Emmy, weβve got so much to come. Have sweet, baby girl dreams and text me when you wake up. Turn off your phone now.β
Reaching out from the nest of blankets Iβve pulled up to my chin, I do. Then I grab the teddy thatβs behind the phone, drag it under the covers with me, curl around it and close my eyes.
* * *
Visits with my mother are never fun. She doesnβt laugh much anymore, and when she does, itβs about things the rest of us canβt see or hear. I gave up trying to talk to her about the people she used to know. I donβt mention Francis or Ash, my motherβs two sisters, or the
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