Page 333 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“She asked me about my collar. She’s questioning what Amy’s told her about your relationship and she’s been educating herself about kink. She believes you, Sir.”
Mac’s eyebrows shoot up. “She does? She never said a thing to me. Never asked me any questions.”
“I think she’s trying to figure it out herself.”
Mac slides his arm under my shoulders, settling into me. “Thank you for talking to her about it.”
“You don’t want to know what I said?”
“No, I trust you, girl.”
It’s my turn to swallow hard. “You need to stop saying that, Sir. It makes me all teary and emotional.”
“Then I’ll have to say it a lot.” He leans in to rub his nose against mine. “You should be reminded every day of how special you are, how much faith your Sir has in you, and how proud it makes me each and every time you submit to me.”
I can’t help it. A tear spills. Mac thumbs it away.
“You’re not supposed to say nice things about me when I’m emotionally vulnerable. It’s a rule.”
“Not in any contract I’ll ever sign. Saying nice things to you is the second-best part of my job.”
I sniff and get control of myself. “What’s the best?”
“Fucking that ass.”
I batter his shoulder. “Sir!”
He laughs, a real belly laugh, and it fills me with warmth to hear that sound out of him after the morning he’s had.
“In fact, I need some of that now. Turn over. I haven’t had my daily anal yet.”
Laughing, I do, and he gets his daily anal.
I’ll say this for the bikers, they know how to party.
They hold the barbeque at what they call their clubhouse, which is as different from the Rolling Blue clubhouse as that was from Blunts. This looks like an older, more run-down version of the motel we finally left a few hours ago, which wasn’t exactlyfive stars, either. I think I still have splinters in my back from the door. And the shower ran out of hot water while Mac and I were still in it, although in fairness, we’d been in for quite some time. Mac can just go and go and go when he’s already had a couple of orgasms. I swear I’m going to sneak “too much stamina for a geezer” into his tattoos somehow if he doesn’t give my holes a break.
What was probably once a bar and function room for the motel is now the main area of the bikers’ clubhouse, with a double row of rooms stretching back towards an empty, covered pool. After nine o’clock, the families clear out, the tables and benches get pushed back, and the tequila comes out. Napa’s wife, Tiana, leads the old ladies in a conga line around the bar, doing a shot every time they pass. Wreck keeps the line of shot glasses full and they do a dozen shots in as many minutes. I think it’s a cute blonde girl who falls first, but pretty soon there’s a pile of old ladies giggling on the floor.
Tiana throws herself down on a bench next to me in a cloud of tequila fumes. “Why aren’t you drinkin’?”
Because Mac’s promised me another anal orgasm tonight before bed if I’m sober and even though I could barely sit downbeforehe put the damn plug in, I’ve become so addicted to the way he fucks me that I’ll even sacrifice tequila. But I’m not saying any of that to Tiana. Then I wonder why I’m censoring myself. Although I liked the old ladies I met at the New Jersey MC, I didn’t click with any of them immediately. I already know Tiana could be a close friend.
“Mac’s letting me have an anal orgasm if I’m still sober by bedtime.”
Tiana laughs, white teeth flashing between her dark red lips. I can’t carry off that color. It makes me look jaundiced. Otherwise, I fit in pretty well with the old ladies, who are wearing a lot of leather and sprayed-on denim. Several of themhave on knotted or cropped T-shirts with the logo “OidhriLadies Auxiliary” over a green trinity knot, which I gather is the club’s symbol, since I’ve seen it on everything from the huge flag over the bar to the bikers’ leather vests. The trinity knot reminds me of a triskelion, which is one of my favorite symbols. I’m angling for one of those shirts pronto if Mac joins this club.
Things seem to be going well on that front. Napa and Wreck greeted Mac like an old friend when we arrived, and they’ve been introducing him to all of the other bikers. They’re outside now, sitting around the pool, smoking cigars while the old ladies get hammered.
Tiana pushes the beer she brought over from the bar to the middle of the table and grins. “Is sober just booze or is it weed, too?”
Mac didn’t say anything about weed. But I’m not sure how he’ll feel about it given Naomi’s addiction.
“You have weed?” I ask.
Tiana laughs again and it’s a friendly laugh. “Honey, we run a dispensary. Anything you want, we have it. What’s your poison?”
“Edibles, but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I have to ask Mac first.”
