Page 137 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“On the bottom,” she agrees. “Went to the bathroom and when I’z came back, you were sleeping all nakey with your bottom in the air. Such a bitable bottom, Oppa.”
She reaches down and traces it with her fingertips.
“You’re in for it now,” I warn her. “Whenever I find you naked, I’m biting your ass.”
A sleepy giggle. “More,” she says.
I will never, ever get enough of this woman.
twenty-eight
De Leon knocks this time,but probably only because he knows I’m so tightly strung right now that I’d shoot him if he broke in.
I take one look at the bedroll he has secured to his huge backpack and shake my head.
He slaps my shoulder as he pushes through the door, even though I haven’t invited him in. “Looks like we’re bunkies again, mate.”
“You’re on the couch,” I tell him.
He shrugs. “At least the futon is a double. Beds in Devon were worse. What the fuck’s up with those twin beds?”
“Civilian life’s made you soft,” I tell him, closing the door and re-engaging the security. “Your timing’s good, though.”
“Yeah?” He slings his pack onto the futon without any direction and hangs his hoodie—probably armored like the hoodie he gave me from the way it hangs—on my coat rack before heading toward the kitchen. Sucker bet he’s going to start up the coffee machine.
“Yeah. My new bed just arrived. Fucking flat pack. You can help me assemble it.”
He scowls at me. “I can be bribed with espresso.”
Espresso in hand, and careful lack of judgment on his face, De Leon helps me take apart my old bed and assemble the new one. The damn rungs need eight hands each, but De Leon and I make do with four, and after only two hours, three minor injuries, and a lot of colorful language, we lift my old mattress up onto the new frame.
As I’m running the vacuum over the packaging-strewn carpet, De Leon says, “So, a cage.”
I nod.
“How long does one put one’s girlfriend in one’s cage?” he asks.
I snort at his absurd phrasing. “One’s girlfriend goes into the cage on her own for as long as she likes. It’s her safe place.”
De Leon rubs his hand over his beard. “I didn’t realize you might use it that way. I thought it’d be for punishments.”
“I’ve tried a punishment that involved confinement. I didn’t do very well with it. I’m still figuring out what works for us.”
“Youdidn’t do well with it.”
“No.” I put away the vacuum, open the closet and pull out the bedding I’ve had delivered for the cage. I crawl in to lay the foam underlay and let De Leon stare at my ass.
“Explain that,” he says.
“No. Hand me the rolled up white thing.”
He screws his baseball cap around so the bill is to the back and lifts his eyebrows. “The white thing.”
“The mattress. Stop being a dick.”
“Tell me why you didn’t do well with the punishment.”
“I told you before, I’m not a fucking science experiment.”
