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

“I want to talk to Laurel and her Dom tomorrow, Logan. I’m not waiting two days. Take them sightseeing or whatever, but after dinner, I want the full story straight from the source. Make it happen.”

So much for not being an asshole. I toss a little assholism back at him.

“Come for dinner. Emily will want to feed everyone.”

“Don’t even think about using your secret weapon on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, mate,” I say as I close the car door behind me, without slamming it, through some miracle of self-restraint.

* * *

Emily manages a cab ride home, but only by lying on her side with her head in my lap, because she quickly discovers that there’s no comfortable sitting position. The cab driver is evidently used to taking prone women home and doesn’t say a thing. I buckle my little girl in as securely as I can and stroke her hair as we watch the city lights flash by through the cab’s windows.

I tell her about the interview with Dovie Donegan. More than anything Dovie revealed, Emily seems bothered by the way Theo treated me on the drive back.

“He shouldn’t be taking it out on you, Daddy,” she says quietly, so the cabbie won’t hear. “He may not like Rick. He may not be happy about the dub-con, but that’s not a reason to be so mean to you.”

“What’s dub-con?” I ask.

She giggles. “Dubious consent. Sorry, it’s a romance term.”

“Ah, I see. I’m defending Rick. Theo doesn’t like it. He vents at me instead of who he’s really angry with.”

“It’s not right. If he keeps being mean to you, can I say something? At dinner tomorrow or at the party on Friday?”

I bend over so I can kiss her cheek. “Are you protecting your daddy from the big, bad Dom?”

“I am. If he doesn’t start being nicer to you, I’ll put so much cayenne pepper in his food that he’ll never taste another thing.”

I chuckle and stroke her hair. “Thank you, love, but that wouldn’t be being the bigger person, would it? Let’s leave it for now and see how he is after he talks with Laurel.”

She wriggles.

“I can’t wait to show them the Rexes. And there’s a silk sleep set at Saks that I want sooo bad. You’ll like it, Daddy. It has pink roses on it. It might be on sale.”

“We’ll have fun at the Museum. And we’ll order takeaway so you don’t have to cook. I keep dumping dinner parties on you.”

I just dumped another one on her when I picked her up from Blunts and found her playing Hearts with Austin and Hunter. I broke up their game with a promise of dinner and a night of card games after Laurel and Jiro leave.

“It’s okay, Daddy. I like to cook.”

“I know you do, sweetie, but Laurel and Jiro’s visit isn’t meant to be burden.” I rub her back. “About the clothes, would you have bought them without them being on sale before I gave you an allowance?”

“Before you gave me an allowance, I didn’t have anyone to wear silk sleep shorts for, so, no, I wouldn’t have. And I don’t spend a hundred dollars on pajamas no matter who I’m wearing them for.”

My frugal little girl.

“Proud of you, Emmy. I’m proud of the way you manage your allowance. I’m proud of the way you handled your punishment today. I’m proud to introduce you to Laurel and Jiro as my little girl.”

She rubs her cheek against my thigh. “That’s lots and lots of proud.”

“It is, indeed, sweetheart. How are you feeling about your punishment?”

She sighs, and it’s a happy sigh. “Clean.”

“Good. I want you to feel clean. There’s no reason for you to feel dirty, because you’re my good girl and I’m very proud of you.”

The big eyes swing up at me like MK 100s. “Am I your good girl again?”

“Emmy.” I stroke her hair back from her cheek. “You broke rules and a promise. Those are bad things, but they do not make you a bad girl. You are my good girl, always. Even when you misbehave. You don’t stop being my good girl, and I don’t stop loving you. Do you understand me?”

She nods and wraps her arm over my thigh, pressing her cheek against it. “Ta, Daddy.”

“Now that your punishment’s over, we can go back to being Daddy and baby girl and making each other stupid happy.”

She tips her head back so she can look up at me. “I like the sound of that.”

Me, too.

* * *

She struggles with the stairs when we get home. My inability to pick her up and carry her to bed grinds on me the way it has for the past six weeks. I slide my arm around her shoulders and help her up the steps, but it’s not the same. If Hendry doesn’t clear me to do squats with weights soon, I’m going to go mental.

I inspect Emily all over before I run us a bath. The scratches from her cat are scabbed over with no sign of redness. I take the bandage off so the wounds can air and kiss the skin above her boo-boo, which makes a happy tear slip down her cheek before I kiss that away, too. She’s bruised from her pubic bone all the way up the crack of her ass. The bruises are already a deep reddish-purple, but they look like they’re still darkening. Austin, who is medically trained, recommended cold rather than heat before we parted ways at Blunts. I run us a cool bath, which is nice on the warm night anyway, put in some Epsom salts, and draw my baby girl into my lap once we’re in the water.

No bath crayons or pirate stories tonight. Instead, there’s a soft washcloth to clean off the sweat of her punishment, and lots of sweet cuddles. We agree on Cambodian for dinner tomorrow and talk about what else we might do with Jiro and Laurel.