Page 335 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“Okay, you have permission, girl, and I’ll give it a try.” He runs his lips over my cheek and whispers in my ear. “Then I’ll give you a nice ride.”
A shiver shoots straight down my spine to my plugged ass. His stamina is terrifying without leaf. I’m not sure my ass will survive stoned Mac.
Tiana runs back inside, both surprisingly steady and surprisingly nimble on her heels, given how much tequila she’s had. Mac keeps me on his lap while he continues his conversation with the bikers. They jump from sports to talk about their bikes to arranging a dungeon weekend. I let their conversation wash over me and don’t try to add anything until Mac pulls me into it.
“Bren’s going to be my abductee for that weekend, aren’t you, girl?”
I am? Hell to the yeah.
“One hundred percent up for being abducted, Sir.”
That gets laughs all around.
“Are you going for the full abduction package,” Napa asks. “Or just the semi-abduction package without hood and zip-ties?”
“There’s an abduction package without hood and zip-ties?” I say in mock horror. “Say it ain’t so.”
“Oh, no, girl,” Mac laughs. “There’s no abduction package for you that doesn’t include hood and zip-ties. Anyway, you’re getting the deluxe abduction experience. Cage. Bucket. Dog bowl. Nothing but the best for my girl.”
The bikers roar and I roll my eyes at my Dom.
Tiana comes skipping back with two full trays of edibles: brownies and what look like lemon bars, complete with powdered sugar on top. She plucks out two brownies and a lemon bar before passing the trays around to the bikers. I get a brownie and Mac gets a lemon bar, which evidently isn’t to his taste by the way he grimaces as he chews.
“Tastes skunked,” he whispers to me.
Edibles always taste a little musty to me, but I absolutely love pot and chocolate and I’ve definitely had worse. I polish off my brownie in three bites before stealing some of Mac’s water to wash it down.
“How long does it take to hit?” Mac asks me. “’Cause I’m not seeing Lucy in the sky with diamonds, yet.”
I elbow him. “That’s LSD, Sir, not weed. It just depends on your metabolism. Probably like a half-hour to an hour you’ll begin feeling floaty and relaxed.”
“I’m all for floaty and relaxed,” Mac says, blowing out a series of smoke rings which get hoots and catcalls from the bikers.
The bikers’ weed is pretty damn good, because it hits me in less than twenty minutes and Mac even faster. We end up squeezed together in one of the pool deck chairs, lying on our backs and looking up at the stars, while Mac somewhat disjointedly explains my skinhead problem to Napa and another biker, who I think is called Cinder. He’s big and bald and very quiet, asking maybe one question to Napa’s ten, but there’s a sense of weight to his questions, same as when Logan gets pissed off. Mac’s more even tempered, except for his explosion at Theo and banging me against the motel door, although he certainlyhad enough provocation for the second one. I wouldn’t really want to get on either Logan’s or Mac’s bad side, but I’d be much more worried about Logan losing his shit at me, particularly after what I’ve heard he did to Pence.
When Mac finishes speaking, Cinder says, “Seems to me like Taco could benefit from a few days in the big city.” He tips the cigar he’s smoking at me. “Maybe you could give him a free tattoo in exchange for him watching your place?”
“Sure,” I say. I’m a little hazy on what I’m agreeing to, but, hey, tattoos I can do.
Cinder sits back in his chair and puffs his stogie. “I’ll set that up.”
It’s only the next morning, when a bashful teen with brown hair flopping over his eyes, knocks on the door of the room the bikers have given us for the night, that I realize what Cinder meant.
“Taco?” I ask, a little warily and a lot huskily because I’m still recovering from what Mac did to my throat last night.
“Hi, ma’am.”
I know I haven’t had any coffee yet, but I can’t lookthatold. “It’s Brenna. Gimme a minute, okay?”
I close the door gently, not liking shutting him out in the hallway, but I’m not dressed and Mac is still in the bathroom shaving.
As I pull on my leathers, I poke my head into the bathroom. “Mac, did we agree to play host-a-biker?”
Mac chuckles then hisses as he nicks his chin. “I have a vague memory of that.”
“I think he’s at the door.”
“Tell him to grab a coffee and we’ll be ten minutes. That long enough for you to get ready?”
