Page 207 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection

Although I’d normally kill for Emily’s desserts, my stomach’s at a good point for a scene. Warm and comfortable but not full. “Yes, sir.”

“Let’s move onto the couch. We’re going to talk about your fantasies while we digest and then we’re going down into the playroom. I want you to crawl to the couch, but you need to keep your head elevated. Can you do that for me, bold girl?”

Right now, I’d do just about anything for him. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Open your eyes and look at me.”

I do, blinking in the room’s warm light.

Mac smiles at me before he slaps the crop against my nipples. Right and left again. I squeak in surprise and keep my hands on my thighs only by an act of supreme will. Mac’s eyes darken as he drinks in my pain.

“Very good, Brenna. Crawl for me.”

I crawl, keeping my head up, just as he’s asked. Or commanded. It’s all the same with him. I’m so fucked.

There are more cushions on the floor in front of the couches. When I reach them, I wait beside one hopefully. I’m not sure if Mac wants me on the floor or the couch, but if I’m on the floor, I’d really like a pillow because my knees are beginning to ache.

I’ve got my back to the dining area, but from the noises, I can tell that Mac clears the table while Logan tries to bring Emily back up from whatever subspace cavern she’s descended into. For a Dom, Mac’s not at all precious about pitching in when things need doing.

Of course, that makes him more attractive. Which he really doesn’t need.

Logan carries Emily over and sits down on the couch with her straddling him, her head on his shoulder. He strokes his hand over her hair and murmurs to her. Although her eyes are open, she still seems pretty out of it, which would worry me with anyone but Logan. He’s a good Dom. He knows Emily’s limits inside and out. If she was in trouble, he’d be the first one racing her to the ER.

Watching them, that cold flutter I got during the scene with Ten starts again in my belly. I don’t want to be held like that, loved like that. Of course, I don’t. But still, what’s wrong with me that no man ever has?

Mac’s hot hand descending on my shoulder yanks me out of a downward spiral. “Bren, would you like to come up on the couch while we’re talking?”

“Yes, sir.”

His hand slides around to the nape of my neck. “Ask for permission, bold girl.”

Fuck, he turns my head inside out. I thought he was giving me permission. Instead, he was taking it away, so I’d have to ask for it. How bad do I want to sit on the damn couch?

Turns out, pretty bad.

“Sir, may I please sit on the couch?”

He extends his other hand in front of my eyes, waits until I put my hand in his, and helps me up onto the couch. He sits, bracketing me between him and Logan on my far side, and sets my phone and the folded paper beside my thigh. “Should we get Lo’s opinion on the mermaid before we get into your fantasies?”

“Yes, sir.” I reach for my phone but stop myself before my fingers touch it. “May I show you, sir?”

Mac grins. “Please do.”

I tap open my phone and bring up the first of the three designs I’ve done. “Just swipe right to see the other two,” I explain, offering my phone to Mac.

He studies each image, before passing my phone to Logan.

“Second one has my vote,” Mac tells me. “Beautiful, Bren.”

Pride flushes me.

“Definitely the second one.” Logan hands the phone back to Mac, who slides his fingertips over the image, enlarging it so he can examine the details. I’m really glad I spent more time on those fins.

“I’ll be proud to have this on my skin,” he says.

The one he’s picked is mostly black and white, with touches of color on the edges of the design: the fins on her S-shaped tail, flowing green hair, swirling white and blue waves. I took inspiration from the mermaid window inHarry Potter and the Goblet of Fire; it looks like stained glass, with heavy outlining and luminous colors. I’ll hide his old tattoo in the scales of the tail. The new tattoo is twice as large as his old one: waves splashing high on his shoulder, the tail stretching down his back.

“This is a lot of work to have done in one session, sir. Are you sure you don’t want two or maybe three?”