Page 190 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection

I finish up by asking about her medical issues. I know she’s had surgery on her hip, and she tells me she has a plate and pins in her leg as well, so I’ll have to watch her flexibility and be careful with electrical play. She has nerve damage in her arms and back that she says can be aggravated by prolonged bondage. I make a mental note to look for scars when I’ve got her naked, and to find out what gave her nerve damage, but that’s definitely not a subject for our first scene.

“What do you know about me, bold girl?” I ask, to segue into where I want to end our lunch.

“Only what Em spilled. You’re Logan’s oldest friend. He worked for you in the Navy?—”

I chuckle. “He served in my unit.”

Her cheeks tint. “That’s what I meant. You’ve been married, but were separated for, like, a decade and made the divorce official recently because your ex wanted to remarry. You have a daughter who is only six years younger than me and you’re worried that I might think that’s weird. Which I don’t. I mean,it is a little weird that you’re old enough to be my dad, but it doesn’t really matter for a scene, does it?”

I don’t like that. Not at all. I’m not thinking of this as a single scene, and I don’t like that she is.

“Does it?” I ask.

She folds her lips in and pinches them between her teeth, then blows out a breath before she says. “I said too much, didn’t I?”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, I did. You’re doing that Dom thing where you repeat questions back to me until I realize how stupid I’ve been and roll over and show my belly.”

The warm chuckle in my chest blooms into a laugh. This girl. I love that she’s so experienced she knows all the standard Dom tricks. It’ll keep me on my toes. And just because she knows the tricks, doesn’t mean they won’t still work on her.

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“I’m sorry for the verbal vomit.” She wipes her hands down her leather skirt before she circles them around her coffee cup again. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

“I’m sure Emily and Logan told you.” She gesticulates vaguely with her hands. “Submission. It’s not working for me anymore. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but my headspace is really off. It has been for a while. I, um, I guess I’m just afraid that I can’t do it anymore.”

“You can’t submit? Okay, let’s put that to bed right now. Stand up and lift your skirt to your waist.”

She gapes at me for a moment before she flushes as bright as a stop light. Trembling, she stands and pulls her skirt up over her smooth thighs, revealing that beautiful hip piece she showed me before, another tattoo around her left thigh that’s a double band of barbed wire, and a gloriously bare pussy flushed ashade lighter than her cheeks. No underwear, just as instructed. Perfect.

“Run your fingertips through your pussy and show them to me.”

She bites her lip before she does as she’s told. Her eyes are glistening as much as her fingers when she holds them out to me.

“Well done, bold girl,” I say softly. “Lick your fingers clean, lower your skirt, and sit down. We’re almost done here, but I think it’s safe to say that you can still submit.”

She licks her fingers before she puts them over her face. “That’s the first time in months I’ve actually wanted to.”

“Good. Take your hands away and look at me, sweetheart.”

She does, her chocolate eyes glossy and vulnerable.

“That’s a good girl. How about we take a breather, and you think about the things we’ve talked about and done today? I’ll call you tomorrow and you can tell me anything else you want me to know. Then we’ll set a time for our scene. Logan’s happy for us to use the playroom here. He’ll monitor. Or we can go to Blunts if you feel more comfortable there.”

“Here, please,” she whispers. “Blunts might be a little weird. Don’t ask me why. That’s just how it feels.”

“I have no problem with that.”

“Sir, could you—” She bites at her lips.

“Finish that thought, bold girl.”

“Could we do the scene tomorrow? I just—I want that feeling again.”

Poor girl. Is this the source of the sadness in her eyes? Was she really afraid she couldn’t submit anymore?