Page 242 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
There are two spare bar chairs. I could sidle up into one of them and take advantage of the nibbles Emily’s set out. If I was wearing anyone’s shirt but Mac’s, I probably would.
But I am wearing his shirt, and he wants something close to twenty-four-seven, and I said I’d try, so instead of sitting down and enjoying the appetizers, I walk over to Mac, kneel at his feet, and arrange myself the way showed me at dinner before our scene.
He lets me kneel for a long moment before he wipes his hands and rests his palm on the top of my head. “I like seeing you in my shirt, Bren.”
“Thank you for leaving it for me, sir. It was still warm when I put it on.” Then something slips out that’s way too sappy to come out of my mouth. “It feels like a hug.”
His answering smile is brilliant and if I was wearing panties, that smile would have incinerated them. Unhurriedly, he strokes my head and I find myself relaxing, physically and mentally. I was relaxed after our “reset,” a nap, and a shower, but now I’m a seriously limp noodle.
“When you’re ready,” Mac says. “Stand and serve everyone a drink. I’ll take a beer. You can have whatever you want, but you’ll be drinking some of it out of my mouth, so nothing diet.”
I smile up at him. “Yes, sir.”
“When you’re finished serving, meet me in the bathroom. I’m going to plug you before dinner.”
That should make me nervous, but some, clearly deranged, part of me relaxes even more. “Yes, sir. Do you want me to get a plug?”
“No, sweetheart. I already have one for you.”
His grin should be disturbing. Instead, it lights a fire in my belly.
He lifts his hand from my head, and I tense my thighs and wiggle my toes to get the circulation going before I stand and walk a circuit around the room, getting everyone drinks. I like the beer Logan buys; I get one for myself as well as Mac. He drank his out of the bottle the other night, so I just pop the top and set it next to where he’s working, chopping celery for a salad.
“Give me a minute here, bold girl. Stand behind me and put your arms around my waist.”
Snuggle up to that broad, strong back and feel the press of his firm ass against my belly and hips? Sign me up.
Once I’m in position, I tuck my face into the plane between his shoulder blades and close my eyes. The muscles of his back flex against my cheek as he chops and moves the cut pieces intoa big, wooden, salad bowl. He’s put on a white T-shirt to replace the shirt he left for me. It’s soft and warm against me and it smells of Emily’s laundry detergent and Mac’s tea, tobacco, and leather aftershave. I’m drowning in the scent and feel of him. Mac is a serious cuddler, and six months ago that might have turned me off, but now, it’s exactly what I need.
When he finishes, he reaches back and caresses my hips, tucking me even tighter against his ass. “This reminding you of anything, sweetheart?” he whispers over his shoulder.
It reminds me of the position I was finally able to sleep in the other night, but I didn’t realize he was aware of it. “Did you pretend to be asleep, sir?”
“Seemed like what you needed. I only realized in the morning that I was spooning you onto your bad hip. I’ll be more conscious of it tonight.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m okay on that hip for an hour or two, but then it starts aching.”
Mac hums in his chest. “Any chance of you telling me how it happened?”
My breath catches. “Sir?—”
“If it’s too soon, that’s okay. Just be honest with me, sweetheart.”
“I, uh—” I rub my cheek against his back. I want to trust him. I want more than I’ve had with my other Doms. Does that start with letting him in? “Sir, it isn’t something I talk about. But I’ll try if it’s something you want to know.”
Mac turns and cups my face in his hands. “I want to know everything,” he says against my lips.
I melt into his kiss.
With his mouth still on mine, he steers me into the bathroom off the kitchen. He backs me against the tiled wall, closes the door behind us, and kisses my face off, nipping at my lips, flicking his tongue against mine. The warm simmer in my bellyblooms into a bonfire and when I push my hips into Mac’s, he groans and lets me feel the iron bar of his erection.
I smile into his kiss and he laughs into mine.
“I’m dying to fuck you, bold girl,” he groans.
“The feeling’s mutual, sir.”
He touches his forehead to mine. “Bend over the sink and hold your cheeks open for me. If I can’t fuck you with my cock, I’m going to fuck you with this plug.”
