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

all the house subs, well, most of the house subs. But taking them on means less time and energy to devote to Emily. My little girl comes first, always.

When we reach the kitchen, I see that Miranda, Javier and Maude have clustered around the central island, where Emily’s set out trays of nibbles, red and white wine, and a pitcher of gin-and-tonic. Javier’s leaning against the butcher block, sipping his drink and eating shelled, spiced pistachios, while Maude interrogates Miranda about her pregnancy, in Maude’s inimitable way.

Miranda’s eyes flick away from Maude to Emily, as she crawls behind me. Her look becomes something I don’t like. I stop a safe distance away, bring Emily up beside me with a flick of my fingers, into the Tower Slave position, with her knees together, and rest my hand on her hair while I introduce Dana to Miranda.

Dana gives Miranda the same smile she seems to bestow on all subs.

“Nice to see you again,” Dana says. “You may not remember, but we met a few years back at Blunts.”

Dana has a good memory. I certainly don’t remember ever introducing them.

“And congratulations,” Dana continues. “When are you due?”

“End of September,” Miranda replies, aiming a smile at me.

I ignore her and continue stroking Emily’s hair.

“Shame.” Dana clicks her tongue. “You won’t be able to participate in the fun tonight.”

“Oh.” Miranda’s smile gets sharper. “I’m happy to be waited on.”

Dana taps her pink-tipped finger against her lip. “If I remember correctly, you’re a submissive. Submissives don’t get waited on at High Protocol dinners. They do the waiting. But no responsible Dom would ask anything so taxing from someone so heavily pregnant. Best you just sit and enjoy the conversation. Austin will make up a plate for you before each course. And you must tell us all about living in London. I’ve visited, but never for more than a few days. It rained the whole time.”

Miranda’s face freezes. After a moment, she forces a smile. I force my face to remain blank. Fuck, that was neatly done. I don’t know if Austin primed Dana, or if Dana just makes it her business to squash subs who overstep themselves, but I’m going to have to ask her for pointers.

While I’m admiring her social ninjutsu, Dana turns slightly and cups her slender hand under Austin’s chin. When he looks up at her, she smiles that killer smile at him and rubs her thumb over his lips, held apart by the ball gag. “When I release you, you will rise, top up Javier and Maude’s glasses and pour me a glass of white wine. Then you will follow me on your hands and knees while I admire the flowers. When I stop or sit, you will kneel at my feet. Nod once that you’ve understood.”

Austin nods, looking up at Dana with dazed, brown eyes.

She releases him with a fonder smile, and he rises smoothly to follow her commands.

“Illuminating, huh?” I say quietly to Dana.

“Like Yankee Stadium at night,” she responds, following her submissive with her eyes. “I have no idea why I haven’t played with him before. Short-sighted of me, I guess.”

“And Mally?” I ask as gently as I can.

Dana tips her head. “If tonight goes well, I’ll have to speak with her. Neither of us has made any commitment beyond the scenes we’ve done, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“Thanks for that.”

“Still looking out for the interests of the sub you trained?” she asks with a wink.

“Absolutely.”

“Which is why you were so well-suited to Master of Training,” Javier interjects from where he’s watching Austin top up his glass.

I grimace at him and Dana laughs.

“Don’t let him bully you,” Dana says, patting my arm.

“I only bully people who want to be bullied,” Javier retorts.

Under my hand, Emily shifts, and a tiny giggle escapes her.

“Comment from the peanut gallery?” I ask her.

“No, Daddy.”

“If you’re bored, little girl, you can make me one of those dirty vodka martinis.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I stroke the top of her head and let her rise to make my drink.

Chapter Thirteen Emily

Logan’s filled our two months together with new experiences. Most of them wonderful.

Kneeling on a couch pillow beside Logan’s chair, with him hand-feeding me bites of the Korean beef lettuce wraps I’ve made as a second course, sunk so deep in subspace that I feel drunk, I think this might be one of the most wonderful. I haven’t done a High Protocol dinner before, although Logan’s put me in High Protocol during meals. This is different. It’s not just the service, although I absolutely love serving Logan. It’s the praise all four Doms keep showering on me. The prettily set table. The classical music I have playing. The food. The service. They don’t miss any little touch I’ve put into this dinner. I feel deluged by approval. It fills me with such a warm glow, I must rival the sunset.

Not even Miranda glowering at me from across the table can dim this feeling. It’s beyond stupid happy. I’m luminous, glimmering with happiness.

Logan notices, because he notices everything, and caresses my cheek, before he holds a glass of iced water for me to sip.

Once he’s finished feeding me the lettuce wrap, he starts sifting his fingers through my hair, pressing his fingertips gently into my scalp. All my muscles turn to jelly, and I only remain upright by leaning against his thigh.

Logan chuckles and strokes his hand over my head, down the back of my neck, over my bare shoulders, and up my neck to gently cup my throat. He rests the heel of his hand against my memory chain while his thumb and fingers caress my throat.

Swoon. So domly.

Under the lip of the table, I can see Austin kneeling between Maude’s and Dana’s chairs. He looks as blissed out as I am. His ball gag’s loose around his neck; his eyes are half-closed. He’s leaning against Dana’s thigh, his arm wrapped over her leg, hand under her skirt, while Maude holds a mouthful of