The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection Frost, J (good beach reads .TXT) 📖

mention it yesterday because we had enough going on, but I talked to a detective in Manchester. She’s going to report Miranda’s husband’s threat to the local police. She’s also given me a referral to a solicitor. I’m going to see if I can force Mir to take a paternity test. I need to know.”

Of course, he does. The uncertainty must be killing him. “I understand, Daddy.”

“Thank you again for being there, Emmy.” He pulls me back into a tight, warm hug. “I’m sorry your mum’s light went out, but yours certainly didn’t. You’ve given me so much these last couple of days. Your sweetness and laughter, just so much. I feel half-drunk around you.”

Fireworks. I don’t know how Logan does it, given how angry I was with him just a couple of hours ago, but a snuggle and a few words and he’s filled me up with more fireworks than the Fourth of July.

“I’m glad I helped, Daddy. Anything you want to talk about, I’ll listen, and if you need to take it out on me again, it’s okay. I can bear it. Super-tough, me.”

He chuckles and gives me a hard squeeze. “Super-tough, huh?”

“Boiled leather and steel.”

His belly brushes against mine as he laughs. “C’mon, let’s finish dressing you or we’ll be late to meet Niall. No undies today, but I think you better get your sea-bands. That storm’s going to hit soon.”

I glance at the balcony doors. The sky’s gotten progressively darker as I’ve been writing. Now, the daylight has taken a strange, gray caste. Serious storm coming.

When he lets me up, I find my bike shorts and the sea-bands. Logan dresses me: helping me step into the shorts, pull up my socks, and tie my sneakers before putting the sea-bands on my wrists. Having him dress me melts my insides. I feel so, so little. When I’m ready, Daddy picks me up and wraps me around him, koala-baby style, before he carries me out of the room. He takes the elevator instead of the stairs, his sole concession to carrying a hundred pounds of me as though I weigh no more than a pillow.

“You’re getting a work-out before you even get to the gym, Daddy,” I say, once we’re in the elevator.

“Sorry, what was that, fluff? I got distracted by this tiny sex kitten I’m carrying.”

I nuzzle his neck. “You’re silly, Daddy. And really, really strong.”

“All the better to toss you over my shoulder and have my way with you. Did you like being carried around last night? I couldn’t get enough of it.”

“Yes, Daddy. It was crazy-fun. And it made me feel close to you, even when I couldn’t see your face.”

“Good to know. I liked all the contact we had last night. Chain station’s good for that. I could move around and touch you from every angle. Better than a cross, I think, although I do like crosses.”

I like crosses, too, but he’d have had trouble hugging me if I’d been on a cross, and that was one of my favorite parts.

“When you hugged and kissed me before you started with the metal flogger, that was really good. I felt super-close to you and it helped me bear what came after.”

“Mm-hmm. You were very quiet during the first part of the flogging, which wasn’t any kind of problem, and when I needed more feedback, you gave it to me, but in future, if you need contact, just ask for it. That’s not topping from below. It’s telling Daddy his baby needs him.”

I snuggle even tighter. I love thinking of it that way. I’ve always been nervous about asking for things during scenes but thinking about it as needing my daddy totally works. “I like that. I was really deep in subspace, that’s why I was so quiet.”

The elevator doors ding open and Logan strides out, still carrying me like I weigh nothing. He’s only adjusted me once and his arms are as firm around me as when he picked me up. My strong, solid daddy.

“I know you went deep when I was cuffing you. Do you think that was because of the scene to that point, with me chasing you around, or because of the physical dominance of me fucking your throat and pinning you to the floor, or the anticipation of the flogging, or was it a combination?”

“It was a combination but mostly the way you were controlling me. The way you went up on your toes to push your penis down my throat was super-super domly. I just melted into a puddle of happy.”

He chuckles, a warm vibration from his chest through mine. “A puddle of happy, huh? I like that. We’ll definitely be going for a puddle of happy in future scenes.”

I’m good with that. Much better than the raging cesspool of pissed-off-edness this morning. I bounce a little in his arms. He grunts and adjusts me, but doesn’t put me down, even though we’re inside the gym now. He carries me over to where Niall is sitting on a weight bench, checking his phone.

“Everything okay?” Daddy asks Niall.

“Nae. Put yer gurl down an’ give me yer thoughts on this.” Niall holds his phone out.

Logan lets me slide down his body, kisses me on the forehead, and sends me towards the treadmills with a swat on my bottom. “Fifteen minutes at a gentle walk, little girl. No sweating. It’s not about burning calories today.”

“Could I do some stretching first? My back’s a little knotted from writing this morning.”

“Yes, good girl. Show me what a little sex kitten you are and get that ass high in the air. Big stretches for ten minutes.”

I skip off to the mats happily. I have a Pilates routine saved on my phone that I do when I’ve been sitting too long. It’s just about ten minutes long. As I’m tapping it up, I hear Daddy talking to Niall.

“Does he usually get like this after being shared?”

That sounds like they’re talking about Shaan. I kneel on the mats,