Page 214 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
Maybe if I was sure itwasher past it’d bother me less.
I toss the used wipes into a garbage bin in the corner where Logan’s sitting and catch his eye. He grins and nods at me. Yeah, it was a great scene, and I won’t let jealousy sour it. Blowing out another breath, I retrieve the first aid kit from the shelves near the drain and treat her broken skin before drawing her forward off the web and spreading arnica cream over the two pinch points. When I finish, she’s standing steady on her feet and watching my face. I realize I’m frowning and quickly control my expression. I touch two fingers very lightly to the bandage on her ribs.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Skin’s broken here. I know you said you were okay with marks, but I didn’t mean to break your skin.”
“It’s okay, sir. It doesn’t hurt and I heal quick.”
I lean in and kiss her forehead. “Ready for that glass of wine?”
“Yes, sir.”
She doesn’t look ready. She’s still watching me anxiously. I pull her into my arms and tuck her tight to my chest.
“You okay, bold girl? Tell me what you need.”
“Hug’s great, sir,” she says, but there’s a catch in her voice.
“You need to go anywhere? I’m thinking we should take this hug to bed after that glass of wine. It’d be nice to sleep with you in my arms.”
“You want to sleep with me?” There’s more than a catch. Her voice breaks on the last word and she clears her throat quickly.
I stroke my hands down her back, molding her to me. “I definitely want to sleep with you, sweetheart. Unless you’re a cover hog. Then I’ll be sleeping in the bed and you’ll be sleeping on the floor.”
She chokes out a little laugh. “I don’t hog covers, sir. And I don’t snore.”
“Logan says the same thing and he snores like a fucking chain saw.”
Logan snorts, showing he’s still paying attention. “Says the man whose nickname in the platoon was Convo. Enjoy the discussions he’ll have with you in his sleep, Bren.”
That gets a full laugh out of her and I smile at the sound. “C’mon. Let’s have that glass of wine. You like red or white?”
“Could I have a beer instead, sir?”
Girl after my own heart. “Of course.”
We leave the playroom as it is. Logan and I have already discussed leaving the web up for a few days so he and Emily can enjoy it. I might even get Bren back up on it before we dismantle it, although I have a few different ideas for our next scene.
Once we’re settled on the couches in front of the TV, with the sports highlights playing quietly in the background, while Logan takes Emily upstairs and gets her ready for bed, I make sure Brenna wants another scene before I get my hopes up too high.
“What’d you think, bold girl? Anything you’d have liked me to do that I didn’t?”
She shakes her head before she takes a sip of her beer. She drinks straight out of the bottle, which almost makes her hotterthan all that silky skin and sexy ink. “Did I earn sex privileges, sir?”
The attitude’s back. “You did. You were fantastic with the honor blindfold. How did it feel?”
“It was a challenge, sir, but I liked it.”
I thought she might. “How would you feel about other kinds of honor bondage? Like being told to hold onto something and not let go until the scene was over?”
She squirms on the couch and then locks her muscles to still herself. “I’d like to try that. Does that, um, mean you want to scene again?”
Hearing her uncertainty makes me want to pounce on her, wrestle her to the floor, and lick another orgasm out of her. I restrain myself, running the knuckles of my free hand down her cheek. “Yes, sweetheart, I definitely want to scene again. When can you fit me into your busy schedule?”
She starts to grin, but then her face falls. “Friday?” She sounds hesitant.
“Friday’s fine. And if you need it before then, I’m just at the other end of the phone. Don’t look so heartbroken, Bren.”
She gives a tiny shake of her head and presses her cheek into my knuckles. “This was really special, sir. Thank you. It’s made me feel ... hopeful? That’s not the right word. I don’t know how to say it. I was just so afraid that I couldn’t submit anymore. That I’d never reach subspace again.” She releases a ragged breath and gulps her beer. “Thank you, Master Mac.”
