Daddy PI: Book 1 of the Daddy PI Casefiles by Frost, J (reading eggs books TXT) 📗

* * *

We lie on his bed afterwards. The covers are rumpled under me and Logan’s warm skin is sticking to mine, but I can’t even think about moving. I’m sated and fatigued and oh, so relaxed. Traveling with Logan is less of a strain than being on my own. He took care of everything from our luggage all the way down to buying me a bottle of water while we were waiting in the passport line. But it’s still travel with all of its uncertainty and inconvenience. I’m glad to be on the ship finally, and even happier to be here with Logan.

He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at me, while he winds a strand of my hair around his fingers. He’s smiling, which he’s been doing constantly since he got off the phone with his cruise contact and face fucked me until I was breathless, sore-throated and blissed.

No more strain, no more tension, no more thoughts of his sister. I think I’ve made him happy.

And there are no words for how I feel. After an insane tickling, and then getting fucked hanging over the edge of the bed, until I was sure my head was going to explode, either from the blood-rush or my orgasm, there’s no superlative strong enough for the tingle and ache of my body. I don’t think there’s an inch of me, anywhere, that Logan hasn’t touched. I feel saturated with him.

“Penny for them, beanie,” Logan says.

He’s so cute. He says I’m cute, but so is he. When he’s not all domly and fierce. “I can’t remember feeling this good. Maybe ever. Certainly not since my last spa day.”

He flicks the tip of my nose with the ends of my hair. “Nice to know I compare favorably with the spa.”

I giggle. “You’re better.”

“There’s a spa on board,” he says.

There’s everything on board, from the look of it. “There are dungeons on board.”

“You’re more interested in the dungeons than the spa?”

I nod emphatically.

“Would you like to do a scene tonight?”

I’m not sure. I haven’t done many scenes in front of total strangers. I know pretty much everyone in the Syracuse kink crowd; they stopped being strangers years ago. The scene at Logan’s club on our first date was in front of strangers, but he knew them even if I didn’t. The idea of doing scenes on a boat filled with total strangers makes me feel a little shaky.

But I don’t want to disappoint my Dom. “Would you like to?” I ask.

“I think we should take a look at the dungeons and get a feel for how things work, then do something lower-key in private tonight. We can talk about a couple of scenes I have in mind and then tomorrow I’ll sign us up on the scene board.”

The scene board was one of three huge whiteboards hanging in the embarkation lounge when we boarded. The pursers promised we’d hear all about the boards during the cruise director’s orientation, but it was obvious, on brief inspection, they’re for setting up scenes in either the dungeons or other areas. There were already dozens of entries when we boarded.

“That would be great.” And it would. Not every scene needs to be a big production. Not any scene needs to be a big production, although I have a feeling some scenes with Logan will be. I already know he loves role-playing and costumes, like the schoolgirl uniform he had me wear to his club.

“Good girl. If we’re going to play tonight, then my baby needs to keep up her strength. How about you go to that ladies’ introductory lunch in an hour? Have a nice lunch and maybe meet some of the other girls?”

I almost pout. After our time together today, the last thing I want to do is be apart from him. And the second to last thing I want to do is eat with strangers. I hate eating with strangers. But he probably has work to do, which is why he’s getting rid of me. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my girl. Let’s get you showered. Hopefully the luggage will arrive soon and then Daddy can dress you for the afternoon.”

He can? Is he going to pick my clothes for me while we’re on the cruise?

“I would love that.”

* * *

By the time I’m showered, lathered with the ship’s complementary, gardenia-scented lotion, and wrapped in a fluffy, white towel, our luggage has arrived. Logan takes the bags from the porters, tipping them even though the cruise brochure said that we should just tip once at the end for convenience. He puts them on the coffee table in his room and checks them over carefully, but I can’t tell what he’s looking for.

“Is there something wrong with the bags?” I ask.

“No. I’m just checking to see if the screening they do leaves any traces. Open your big suitcase, baby.”

I do, popping the locks and opening the suitcase so the two halves lie on the table. I’m glad the case has webbing inside, and I’ve used it for once so my stuff doesn’t explode all over his cabin.

“Can you tell if they’ve gone through it?”

I unclasp the webbing on one side and pull it back to show my clothes, still folded, a pair of sandals tucked against the edge of the case so the soles don’t dirty my clothes, and the black fabric case I keep my plushy in when we travel. “It doesn’t look like it.”

If they did, they were really, really neat.

“Mmm.” Logan picks up the black fabric case. “Sex toys?”

My heart stutters. “Please, can I have that back? Please?”

He hands it to me carefully. I tuck the bag back down in the case, then stand next to it awkwardly, with my head down, twisting my hands together. I know I’ve made a mistake. I know Logan noticed. I don’t know how to fix it.

“How about a game of show and tell?” Logan says softly. “I’ll show you something