Page 229 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
I swallow against the tightness in my throat. Sometimes this man’s faith in me rocks me more than a little. “What the hell is going on at this club that Brenna and the boy feel so abandoned?”
“I don’t have an answer for that,” Logan says as he hands me a pair of plain, silver cufflinks. “They’ve asked me back as Master of Training. That means I’d be supervising the house submissives, including Brenna and Cappa. I could try to get to the bottom of what’s happening. Why the house subs aren’t getting what they need. But it’s a huge commitment, Mac. And Emily ... she has to be my priority.”
“Of course, she does. But something’s seriously wrong, Lo. Brenna honestly believed she couldn’t submit anymore. No submissive should be left in that kind of doubt, even if she is a handful. And what happened to that boy? He wasn’t getting what he needed at the club, so he went out into the big, bad world and foundthat? You know something like that should never happen.”
Logan nods mournfully.
“You always did take too much on your shoulders, Lo. Share the burden. Maybe you don’t have to do everything yourself.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Is it something you’d be willing to help me shoulder?”
The question rocks me back on my heels as I finish a Windsor knot. “You sure?”
“You’d need to become a member. I’ll sponsor you and make sure of the vote, sir, but you’ll need to prove you’re a master before I could delegate anything to you.”
“What is there, an exam?” I ask, wryly.
Logan grins. “Series of scenes. At least you know you’d have a willing victim.”
I hope so, because she didn’t sound very willing at two a.m. But she said she’d had a long day. Hopefully she got some sleep, and some coffee, and she’s in a better mood. Or at least a little less dismissive.
“If Brenna’s dancing tonight, can I still do a scene with her?”
Logan nods. “She’ll be scheduled for an hour on and an hour off so she’s available for scenes.”
“With anyone?” The thought tightens my gut. It shouldn’t. We’ve done one scene. I have no claim on her.
But I want to.
“Any member or their guest,” Logan confirms, leading me towards the door where we slip on coats and shoes.
“Damn.”
“Mac, tell me to fuck off if it’s none of my business, but do you think Brenna’s built for monogamy?”
“Built for it? From what I’ve read, no human animal is built for monogamy. It’s a choice. One we make every day.” I follow Logan out onto the street to wait for our cab, pulling the door closed behind me firmly, until I’m sure the lock’s engaged. The idea of leaving Emily and that injured man-boy vulnerable to the predators in this big city makes my stomach churn. “Do I think Brenna will make that choice if someone actually meets her needs? Yes, I think so. One of the things I was listening for in her fantasies was whether they were single or multiple partner. Even with the abduction, when she wasn’t sure if she was being used by more than one man, it was always single partner. But, if she has a deep need to be shared that I haven’t seen yet, I can work with it. So long as her submission always belongs to me.”
Logan rubs his chin. “You’ve thought about this.”
“Quite a bit.”
“Again, no judgment because I started planning to keep Emily after our first night together, but are you sure you’re not jumping in with both feet because you’re looking to put down roots? Is this about Brenna or is it about wanting a submissive?”
I contemplate his question as our Uber pulls up in front of the house and we climb in.
“It feels like it’s about Brenna,” I say slowly, thinking it through. “She engages something in me I haven’t felt since the early days with Amy. I know I shouldn’t compare them?—”
Logan waves his hand. “It’s inevitable. I did it with Miranda and Emily, too.”
“Did you feel this constant ...I don’t even know what to call it, Lo. I want to be with her all the time. These past two days have been hell, not just because of Naomi, but because the whole time I’ve been dealing with my daughter, I’ve been thinking about Brenna.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I know that feeling. I hate to tell you, but it doesn’t really get any better.”
“Fuck,” I grumble. “I’m doomed.”
“You are.” He elbows me.
We ride the rest of the way in companionable silence.
