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

I feel like a slug next to the two of them but remember that Daddy told me to keep it to a gentle walk. Pleasing him is more important than looking un-slug-like, even when Mikaela and another woman in a Pink Pearl bikini top and teeny-tiny running shorts climb onto the treadmills next to Niall and beginning running.

After three miles, Daddy and Niall drop to a walk. They’re both sweating, but neither is breathing hard. When Mikaela slows and starts gushing about how much fun she had at the scene last night, Daddy talks in normal tones. He asks her some questions, but nothing like when he recapped the scene with me. He doesn’t care about what worked for her and what didn’t. Only me, and I shouldn’t let that thought swell my heart, or my head, but it does. Daddy-daddy-daddy.

He looks at his wrist, and when he realizes he’s not wearing his watch, checks his phone. “Think we better clean up, little girl.”

I’m finished with my program and on the last minute of the cool-down anyway. “Yes, Daddy.”

Niall shuts off his treadmill and steps off when Daddy does. He shakes Daddy’s hand and gives me a sweaty hug. “I’ll bring Vashi by at three. Be good fer yer daddy, wee ears.”

“Yes, Master Niall.” I wriggle over to Daddy and when he puts his arm around me, hug his lean waist. “Thank you for not sewing my ears shut, Daddy.”

Niall laughs. “That’s somethin’ yeh doan hear every day.”

Logan chuckles, takes my hand, and leads me towards the stairs. “What was so interesting about our conversation, sweetie?”

“Lots. I didn’t realize you planned scenes like that. I mean, doing each thing to make sure you get the reaction you want from your subbie. Like when you said Master Niall should use the twenty minutes after emotional flooding to rebuild rapport and trust with Shaan. Do you time things like that?”

“I do. I’m aware of how much time I have to work with you after certain techniques. How much do you know about emotional flooding?”

I try to remember, scratching the back of my neck with my free hand.

“I’ve heard the term before, but it was in the context of my friend Gracie’s son. He has autism and she’s mentioned emotional flooding, like when he gets overwhelmed with anger or frustration and can’t process. He kind of shuts down for a while. I’m not sure I understand it in terms of a Dom-sub relationship, though.”

“It’s similar. It’s overwhelming a bottom with emotions during a scene. The bottom’s defenses break down, she achieves a catharsis, followed by a period of emotional openness.”

That sounds very . . . premeditated. Has he done that with me?

“Do you do that with your subbies, Daddy?”

“I do, although I prefer overwhelming my bottoms physically rather than emotionally.”

“Like with a big spanking? Or a super-flogging?”

“Yes, little girl.”

He has done it with me. At least twice. And I did achieve a catharsis. I realized things about myself, and him, and us, that I might not have otherwise. Instead of feeling invaded, I feel grateful he cares enough to plan scenes like that.

“I like your method better, Daddy.”

He chuckles. “That’s because you’re a physical masochist, little love.”

“Is Shaan?”

“I bloody well hope so. Otherwise, last night was sheer hell for him.”

“Until the end. That would have made him really happy, whether or not the rest worked for him.”

He gives me a squeeze. “I know the end of their scene made you happy. I also know you’re tremendously forgiving and don’t hold a grudge, even when a scene goes pear-shaped. I don’t think Shaan’s quite as forgiving. Niall’s got some work to do.”

“Is Shaan really, really angry with him?”

“Incredible Hulk levels of anger.”

“But Vashi said they spent all yesterday negotiating. Did Master Niall break Shaan’s hard limits?”

“Sometimes a bottom can feel devalued even if their hard limits aren’t breached. Think back to this morning when you got angry, did you feel I didn’t value your submission?”

“No, Daddy, I was just being stupid. Can we please forget this morning?”

Logan pulls me to one side so we don’t block the corridor and turns me to face him. He tips my face up with a finger beneath my chin and looks into my eyes. His are intent, but warm and caring. “Emmy, I value your feelings. Don’t be dismissive. You were angry. Tell me why.”

I want to shrink away from him and crawl under something large. I hate explaining my feelings. Half the time I don’t even think I should be having them. My feelings this morning definitely fall into that category. But he wants me to explain, so I try, even though I have to dredge each word out of the pit of my stomach with a backhoe.

“I just got angry. You said it was a reward, but it didn’t feel rewarding. It felt like you were being mean to me.”

He runs his knuckles down my cheek, and I lean into his caress.

“You felt I was being mean because I didn’t let you have an orgasm?”

I nod.

“Words, please, little girl. Did you feel like I was setting you up to fail by edging you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll challenge you from time to time. You’d get bored if I didn’t. But I’m not setting you up to fail. I wouldn’t ruin a reward that way.”

Wouldn’t he? That’s what I’ve been worried about since breakfast. “But you’re a sadist.”

“I am, but that’s not my brand of sadism. I’m a physical sadist, which is why we mesh so well.” He takes my hand, holds it up by my face, and laces his fingers through mine. “I get absolutely nothing out of hurting you emotionally. I know you might not believe that because of what I did in L.A., but I promise you, I’m not an emotional vampire.”

“That’s why it didn’t work out with your subbie Luisa, right?” I ask, needing a little more reassurance, because it did feel like he was getting off on hurting me emotionally in L.A., and while I totally