Page 183 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
She tugs her panties from between her thighs and holds out the scrap of satin. “Yes, sir.”
Such a beautiful sound, that word from her lips. I’ve heard it for thirty years in different contexts, but it never sounds as good as when a submissive whispers it as she cedes control to me.
“Good girl.” I hold out my hand and she places the skin-warm fabric on my palm. I tuck her panties into my back pocket while she pulls her pants back up. I’m not doing anything as crude as sniffing them in front of her. For now, this is enough.
I dip and kiss the tip of her nose. She’s on the taller side for a woman, five-eight or so. A head shorter than me. Not so short that I’ll have to break my back to kiss her while I’m inside her, which can’t be soon enough. It’s going to take all my control to keep from fucking her during our first scene. I’ve promised myself I won’t, though. I’ve never been interested in a quick bang and even if I was this sad, sad girl isn’t that. I want her to know it right from the off. But, fuck, that’s going to be a hard promise to keep.
She lifts her face. Licks that full lower lip. She wants a kiss. I want to give it to her. I really want to give it to her. My whole body tightens with how much I want to feel that soft mouth against mine. Taste the cinnamon I can smell on her breath.
But it will be better, sweeter, if I make her wait.
“Tomorrow,” I tell her. “Don’t be late to lunch. No kisses for late submissives.”
She swallows hard and takes a step back. “Kisses are overrated.”
“Not my kisses,” I promise her, pulling my sweater back on. “See you tomorrow, bold girl.”
I force myself to leave her, hungry and wanting.
I have a standing invitation at Logan’s. And at Max’s. And at Manny’s. These three men who served under me, who looked to me to lead them and make the right decisions. Three very different men, with very different strengths and weaknesses, who ended up in the same place after leaving my command, working together as a team again. Only this time, Logan’s leading them instead of me.
Logan thinks he’s not worthy; I can’t think of a better man.
I know he’s going to invite me to join them, and as I sit across from him in his home-office, warm with wood paneling and a fire crackling in the fireplace, he doesn’t disappoint. He slides a folder across the desk to me. I flip it open and read through the proposal. It’s generous, because Logan’s a generous man, and detailed, which tells me Max had a hand in it, because Max does detail like no one else. I close the cover and rest my palm on top of it. The cardboard’s not as smooth as Brenna’s skin.
“You don’t owe me anything, Lo,” I say gently.
“You’re wrong about that, sir.”
“Time you started calling me Mac.”
“No, sir.”
I shake my head at him. I appreciate the respect, but I’m having a hard-enough time becoming a civilian without him reminding me of my rank. “I’m not your C.O. anymore. I’m your friend. I appreciate the offer. But I’m not ready.”
“There’s no expiration date on it.”
“Thank you. I can’t think of three finer men to work beside. I mean that.”
“If you’re ever ready, it’s there. Until then, tell me another way I can see you every day.”
I chuckle. “You’d be sick of me within a week.”
“I never was in seven years. Not even on the days you were kicking my ass.” He takes a deep breath and puts his hands flat on the desk. That’s one of Logan’s tells. He always braces himself against something, before he reveals what’s in his heart. “Missed you every day since, sir.”
I could pass it off with a joke, but that would cheapen the gift he’s given me. “I missed you, too, son. I won’t be a stranger.”
“You’re all the way over in Brooklyn.”
“That’s temporary. Just the first place I found. When the lease is up, I’ll find something closer. Besides, I sleep here and at Manny’s more than I sleep in my own bed.”
Logan shakes his head. “I’m not going about this right. We’re planning on converting the attic. If we made a suite for you, would you consider moving in with us? You’d have your own space. Hell, you can pay rent if your pride demands it.”
My pride doesn’t demand anything. My heart might require a defibrillator, though.
It lurches back into rhythm after a deep breath. I did not anticipate this. I completely underestimated the depth of Logan’s feelings. That’s not a mistake I’d make with a submissive, and I’ll be kicking myself for a while for making it with this man.
“You and Emily don’t need your own space?”
