Page 264 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
Jeez, if that isn’t an incentive to keep my mouth shut. But that’s just not me. “Rawr.”
He lifts his eyebrows at me. “Rawr?”
“That’s my kitty roaring.”
Mac throws his head back and laughs. “What am I gonna do with you, girl?”
“Be at my beck and call?” I phrase it as a question, so he feels free to tell me he has better things to do.
“That’s a given. I have to shoot back to my place at some point to pick up my bike, but that’ll take two hours, tops.”
“Let me take a look at the schedule, but I think I can fit you in for an hour today to start on the line work for your mermaid. And then we have lunch plans.” I flex my feet in his lap at the thought. “I’d say kickboxing tonight. But I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk by then and you shouldn’t do any impact sport after you’ve had a tattoo.”
Besides, Mac washed away all the impotent anger I felt at the skinhead trashing my shop sign and tagging the shutter on a tide of orgasms. I don’t feel the need to pound my frustration out on the heavy bag.
“I’d suggest waiting until Thursday,” I say. “There’s a beginner class at eight.”
He tickles my instep. “You think I’m a beginner at anything, girl?”
I give him my best wide-eyed, Emily glance. “No, sir.”
He chuckles. “I’m keeping track, sweetheart, and your ass is going to pay for each and every one of these little jibes.”
I squirm in my chair. My butt isn’t as insanely sore as my pussy, but it wouldn’t take much before I’d be calling yellow. I hope he takes it easy on me at lunch. Weeeell, a little easy. I’ll be disappointed if he dials it way back, because fuck me, his claiming last night pushed every single one of my buttons.
I try to divert Mac by wiggling my toes, which gets him rubbing again. “There’s, um, someone coming to see me at eleven. He’s a potential supplier of biodegradable equipment. Plastic waste is a huge thing in my industry and I’m always looking for ways to cut down and make what I do more environmentally friendly. Might be boring, but, if you wanted, you could sit in.”
Mac tips his head to the side and gives me a long look. “I’d like that, girl.”
I shrug like it’s no big deal. I’m not even sure why I’ve offered, since he’s been good about staying out of my business. But it is a big deal, and I am concerned about the environment, and I would like his input.
“So what charity is the ride for?” I ask, to change the subject, since Mac’s looking at me a little too closely for comfort.
“Autism research,” Mac says, switching gears without so much as a pause or lifted eyebrow. “Rolling Blue supports a couple of different charities. A foodbank, a battered women’s shelter, Samaritans, and autism research.”
I nod. “Good cause. There’s still too little known about the spectrum.”
“Do you know anyone on it?”
“Yeah, a girl named Beth who was at Mother Kay’s with me. She was really smart. She could recite the prime numbers into the millions. Tell you every President and every member of their cabinet all the way back to Washington. But she’d also rage out for no reason. She struggled through school and was bullied like you would not believe. She’s settled into a good place now. She’san aesthetician over in the Bronx. She and her guy have a little girl. She comes by now and then for fresh ink. I’ll introduce you the next time she comes in.”
“I’d like that.”
Now he’s got me doing it: stamping permanence all over everything. Like he’s going to be around in a month or two when Bethy next comes in. I shake myself before I get sucked down any further into our mutual stupidity.
“What does one wear to a charity motorcycle ride?” I ask, waving my hand around like I’m the Queen of England or some shit.
Mac chuckles. “Whatever one’s Dom tells one to. I’m thinking that black lace outfit you wear to the club and a massive butt plug.”
I don’t know anything about riding a motorcycle, but I can take a guess that sitting on a banana seat fastened to a huge engine while wearing a massive butt plug will not be comfortable. “Sounds chilly, sir.”
That draws a full laugh out of him. “Don’t worry, girl. I’ll keep you warm. Little ginger oil on the nips and clit and you won’t feel the wind.”
It’s my turn to laugh.
ten
MAC
