Page 337 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“Good. Napa’s asked us to come up next week for a fall colors ride and pig roast. Would you be up for that?”
“Definitely, Sir.” She grins. “Are we doing edibles again?”
I shake my head at her. “Now that is taking a risk, girl. You know I took it easy on your ass last night because you’ve had a hell of a lot of ass-play over the last few days and it was only your second real ride. Do not expect that in the future. You do not want me fucking that ass for a solid hour before a half-day ride.”
She grimaces, probably remembering my stamina last night. Weed hits different people different ways, evidently. It made me pleasantly hazy and then hungry and then incredibly horny. My dick just would not stop and after I gave her the anal orgasm I promised and cleaned up, I went at her throat for over an hour. Bren is just as well trained as Javier’s black-haired sub but I think even she was reaching her limit by the time I finally came.
“Maybehalfan edible for you, Sir.”
I chuckle.
Once I’ve packed a bag of clean clothes and one of my sacred Black Sabbath concert T-shirts as a surprise for Bren, I beckon her to me with two fingers.
She slides off the bed fluidly. Despite her hip injury, the impact she’s had over the last couple of days, seriously strenuous fucking, and the hour ride down, she moves without wincing. My strong girl. When she comes to me, I fold her against my chest and kiss those sweetly upturned lips.
“Real talk, girl.” I see her brace herself. “Come on, real talk’s not that bad.”
She pinches the air between her fingers.
I flick her nose ring until she smiles. “I’m checking in. Yesterday when you offered to give me time to focus on Naomi, I asked you then if what you were really saying was that you needed distance from me and my family problems. I’m asking again. Is that what you were saying then or is it something you need now?”
She gives me a soft smile. “No, Sir. I was saying that it’s okay to prioritize your daughter if you need to, but I don’t need space. I like spending time with you. This last week has been ... more than good. I can’t remember the last time I spent so much time with anyone and had so much fun. Going back to work tomorrow is going to suck.”
“Well, I know a Beck and Call Dom you can call on.”
“I’d really like that, Sir.”
“I appreciate the offer to move in with you, girl. I know this place is a little cheerless. I don’t want to crowd you, though. We’ve been moving fast, you and me, but you’ve been coming to me in your own time. I don’t want that to change. Will I be in your hair too much if I move in?”
She chews her lower lip and I see her chewing it over in her mind. No shadows creep into her eyes. Those warm, melted chocolate eyes stay bright and clear. “No, Sir, I don’t think so. Other than your thing for rearranging my sock drawer, you’re easy to live with.”
“Your sock drawer is an abomination.”
She grins. “I really like coming home to you and spending quiet time with you. Almost as much as I like the scenes and daily anal. I thought doing this twenty-four-seven would be really hard and I’d be bucking your commands all the time and feeling resentful, but I haven’t felt that way at all. Even thatpsycho spanking the other morning, it was ... good. No, not good, but you know what I mean. It settled me and made me feel safe.”
I claim her mouth again, kissing her deeply until I feel the connection flowing strong and sure between us again.
“I know you don’t need a daddy, girl, or a bodyguard. I know you’re strong and independent and capable. I don’t want to take any of that away from you. I just want to be the man who has your back when you need it.”
She slides an arm around my neck and hugs the breath out of me. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Okay, enough mushy stuff. Let’s collect your shadow and get going. Trains can be a pain this time of day.”
She cuddles into my side as I pick up my bag and head out of the bedroom. “What are we going to do with him?”
“Feed him a lot.” We were both a little surprised at how much Taco put away at breakfast. Especially since he said he’d eaten already. Kid’s a black hole. I probably was, too, at that age, but I don’t remember it and Naomi never ate more than a bird. I’m glad Bren has a healthy appetite because I don’t think I could watch that again. “Have I mentioned how much I like your relationship with food, girl?”
“Myrelationshipwith food? Like the way I date broccoli, Sir?”
I snort. “I like that you eat like a person instead of a bird. I like your cooking even when it strips all the skin off my tongue. In fact, I think tonight’s a good night for taste-bud stripping. Should we eat at that place you mentioned in Bed-Stuy?”
“Miss Eve’s? Yes, Sir!”
I chuckle at her enthusiasm. “That’s a date, girl.”
Taco lives up to his name after dinner at Miss Eve’s, which is taste-bud stripping, but the curried goat is one of the better things I’ve ever eaten. Brenna has a watermelon and mint drink to wash down her oxtail stew and after appropriating most of it on the basis that I’m her Sir, I wangle the recipe out of Miss Eve because I’d be happy to drink it every day, forever. And I don’t even like watermelon.
I don’t like the smell that emanates from Bren’s bathroom after Taco’s third trip in to yark up his jerk chicken, either. We let the kid have the couch, where he lies groaning quietly with his arms around his middle, while Bren and I bleach her bathroom.
