The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (i love reading txt) 📗

um, penis, due to a childhood accident. Even though it’s an invisible injury to everyone but his lovers, it affects his whole life. He’s convinced everyone knows. He’s very shy, even though he’s a lovely man with a lot to give. That was Patrick. Before that night with the tequila, I think he’d said ten words to me, and I’d known him for, like, five years.”

“Mmm.” Logan scratches his chin. “So, we’re all just character fodder, hum?”

“Not anyone who’s intimate with me.” I put down my empty Batman mug and slide my arms around his neck. “I’d never write about you, Daddy.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t want the whole world knowing about my erectile dysfunction.” He winks at me.

I giggle. “I have based a lot of villains on my ex and killed them off in really gruesome ways, though.”

“Well, that’s fair enough.” He gives me a conspiratorial grin.

I snuggle my head in under his chin. “Daddy, we keep talking about me. Won’t you tell me about your club?”

“Yeah, I will, but if you’re finished your tea, how about we move this back upstairs? We can spoon and I’ll tell you all about Blunts.”

“That’s another great Daddy idea.” I sigh.

“Okay.” He finishes his water, and I rest my palm against his throat so I can feel his Adam’s apple working. He grins at me, wraps me up in a koala-carry again, climbs out of the couch with me mashed to his chest, and carries me upstairs. Other than breathing heavily at the top of the stairs, he totes me around like I weigh nothing.

“You’re really strong,” I observe, clinging to him as he strides down the hall to his bedroom.

“Uh-huh. And heavy compared to you, little feather. Was it too much when we were in bed and I gave you my whole weight?”

“No, I loved it.”

“Good. You’re tiny but tough, aren’t you? My Kevlar baby doll.”

I nod. “Super-tough.”

He chuckles. “Are you, now? We’ll see how super-tough you are in the morning. Daddy’s got a paddle with your name on it for forgetting your Ps and Qs.”

I stick my tongue out at him. He tosses me onto the bed, looms over me, sticks his finger and thumb into my mouth and pinches my tongue. “And then there’s this cheeky tongue, which is begging for a clothes-pin.”

With my tongue captured, all I can do is scrunch my face up at him. “Nooo-owww.”

He releases my tongue, scoops me up out of the loose towel and presses me to his chest as he kisses me. Holding me with one arm, he pulls back the rumpled covers with the other and slides me into bed. His weight crushes me into the mattress and I’m beginning to think he wants another round before we go to sleep. But he releases me and backs away, breathing hard and grinning. I grab a pillow and throw it at him. He catches it and tosses it back at me, catching me in the face and tumbling me backwards into the bed. “Daddy!” I protest.

He shucks off his robe and hangs it on the back of door, turns off the light, then joins me in the bed. He digs me out of the pillows, rolls me over so I’m facing away from him and curves his big body around mine. Then he pulls the covers up over us and cuddles me so tight I have to bang at his arm with my fist until he loosens his hold enough that I can breathe.

“I like having you here with me, Emmy,” he says, nuzzling my hair. “This is what I thought about all last night. Only I didn’t know I’d be sleeping in a bakery, gingerbread baby.”

I melt into him and stop caring about being able to breathe. “I like being here with you, Daddy. So, so much.”

“Do you need anything before bed, baby?”

I shake my head, unable to think of anything. “Do you sleep naked?” I usually do, but I brought really cute jammies: white satin with pink hearts.

“Depends on how cold it is. Tonight, it’s warm enough that I’d like to sleep naked and use you as my blanket if I get chilly.”

Works for me. “Yes, Daddy. Will you tell me about your club now?”

“Uh-huh.” He cuddles me, and kisses the back of my head, and strokes my hair, while he tells me about his club. I try to pay attention, because I really do want to know all about it, but I’m so relaxed and I really didn’t get much sleep last night, and before I know it, my eyes have closed and his voice has faded into a deep hum that lulls me to sleep.

* * *

When I wake, red morning light is filtering through his granny curtains. I blink at the light owlishly, piecing together where I am and why there’s a log around my waist, and another over my leg, and a third poking me right up the butt.

Then I start giggling and the logs stir.

“Morning, baby doll,” Logan says, his voice deep and rough with sleep. “You been awake long?”

That sends me off into a giggle fit.

He pokes me in the ribs with a finger.

“Not as long as Winky’s been awake, Daddy,” I gasp out through giggles and rub back against him.

Logan grunts and pulls me in tight, pressing the length of his hard-on between my ass-cheeks. “Keep that up. You’re giving Winky all kinds of ideas.”

“I like Daddy’s ideas. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.” He stretches and I wriggle with relief as the logs lighten. Then they wrap around me again and being crushed seems like a fine way to spend the morning. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this cozy and cared for. “We had a good seven hours there, baby doll. How about a little play and another good fucking and then we get another couple of hours before breakfast? Make up for some of the sleep we both lost Saturday night?”

He had trouble sleeping Saturday night, too? I