Page 295 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
He follows through on that, too. Not too warm because, as Mac says, we’ve both been drinking, so we’re not doing a scene, but I’m definitely feeling toasty—on top of my whip-wheals which are have settled into a not-so-mellow burn—by the time we settle in bed. Mac has me bring my tablet and shows me how to navigate to a Cloud server he’s set up for us. The first thing he shows me, a picture of me sprawled naked on a couch after the scene this afternoon, brings surprised, happy tears to my eyes. It’s so perfect, how he’s captured me. Wrecked, despoiled, sated, and somehow beautiful. I’ve never liked a picture of myself more.
But what he shows me next holds my attention for longer.
“S-sir, this, this is?—”
“Rules, girl. I’ll let you negotiate them with me until Monday. Then you accept what we’ve hammered out and we do this full-time.”
Mac’s titled the short list, “Master Mac’s Rules,” just in case I was confused. It’s what comes after the title that’s stolen my ability to think.
Rule 1. Snuggleslut will follow all of Master Mac’s instructions quickly, obediently, and without whining.
I blink away the burning in my eyes. Snuggleslut? I mean he called me that the other night after he claimed my holes, but to write up a service contract with that dirty-sweet name?—
My brain short-circuits again.
“Tuxedo,” I whimper.
Mac takes the tablet from me and sets it aside. He pulls me onto his lap and tucks my face into his throat, stroking the fall of my dreads down over my shoulders and back again and again.
“What’s got you overwhelmed, girl? Too many rules?”
I shake my head and try to choke down the tightness in my throat. “Snuggleslut.”
Mac rumbles deep in his chest. “You are my snuggleslut, Bren. I’ve never met someone more deserving of snuggles, and I’m going to give them all to you. Never doubt it.”
Likethathelps me wrest back any control.
“Sir, I?—”
“Shh, girl. Read the rules and tell me what you can’t live with.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
I wipe my face and uncoil from him enough to pick up the tablet and look over the list. He keeps me resting against his chest, my legs tucked to the side, his arm loosely around my shoulders. The position is just so Mac. He never crowds me. I never feel smothered by him, even though I was sure I would when he said he wanted my submission twenty-four-seven.
I read through his rules slowly. There’s nothing I can’t live with. Nothing I even feel the need to negotiate. Will he think I’m not taking this seriously if I just accept his rules as written?
“Sir, um, I have read them.”
“Mmm, and what do you think?”
“What will you think of me if I just agree to them all?”
Mac snorts. “I’d check you for a fever and if you didn’t have one, I’d pat myself on the back because I’ve finally gotten something right on the first try with you.”
I twist so I can look into his eyes. He’s smiling at me but there’s worry in those sky blues. “Oh, no. Mac, you get lots of things right with me on the first try.”
He kisses me on the forehead. “Good to hear, girl. I’m doing better, but I’m still kicking myself over the way I treated you after our first scene.” He takes a deep breath and pulls the tablet from my hand, sliding it onto the nightstand. “I’m also concerned you think I’m looking for some kind of do-over of my relationship with Amy. That’s not at all what this is.”
I was worried about that, I admit. Hearing him acknowledge it, air it as a worry, takes away all of its sting, though. I’m not looking for a do-over, either, but I certainly don’t want to make the same mistakes I made with Edz and Ten and Rob with Mac. I’m learning from my past, and I think that’s what Mac is doing, too.
“What is this, Sir?” I ask, and I hold my breath against him tossing out a flippant, “it is what it is,” the way Ten did when I asked him a similar question.
“It’s a future, Bren. One where we’re dedicated to making each other happy. In whatever form we want that to take.”
I let my breath out on a long sigh.
“I’m good with that, Sir.”
