by Frost, E J
“Three words: United States Navy.” My time in the service taught me everything I needed to know about electrical wiring and closed networks and fuck all about the internet. “See you Sunday, mate.”
He hangs up without saying goodbye. That’s Max. He’s not being an asshole. He’s just moved on to the next thing. Max is one of the smarter guys I know but, like my little girl, nothing holds his attention for long. Which is probably another reason Max and Emily get along so well. He’s not scatty, the way Emily calls herself. He’s hyper-focused, if anything. It’s just that the scope of his focus shifts much faster than the rest of us.
Thinking of my baby doll and her many hobbies makes me smile. Probably the first time I’ve smiled since I left Emily this morning. She brings such light into my life. I really need to do something big to show her how much she means to me.
I finish the estimate and fire it off to Glory. Still pondering grand gestures, I lock away my laptop and join Emily in the kitchen.
Chapter Three
Emily
Daddy isn’t happy.
It’s not me, I don’t think. He’s very good at communicating with me. If I’ve done something to displease or annoy him, he lets me know.
Although we started the day with discipline, and he gave me lines to do while he was with Icky-Rick, everything’s been good since then. My treat for Daddy-little time today was a trip to Tompkins Square Park. Even though he’d been to the gym with Rick, Daddy did push-ups and pull-ups on the jungle-gym with another daddy from our playgroup, Warrin, who met us at the park with his little, until they were both sweaty and manly and the veins in their arms were standing out. Whew, arm porn. Then they had a long talk while I was a skateboarding ninja. I didn’t want to get in trouble for earwigging, so I didn’t listen in to their conversation, even though I love-love-love listening to Doms talk. But Daddy was smiling and laughing. When I did go over to them, they were talking about getting a puppy for Warrin’s little, Aggie. Daddy gave Warrin his business card before we left; it seemed like they hit it off.
After the park, we walked to the Union Street Market to pick up steaks for dinner. Even though it was a long walk, he wasn’t limping or leaning on me, so I don’t think his leg’s bothering him.
But something has the frowny line furrowing his forehead.
It could be the situation with Rachel, but I don’t think so. Once I’ve been disciplined, I’m forgiven. Daddy said he’s dealt with it and next month she’ll be gone from Blunts. That doesn’t sound like something that’s weighing on him.
It could be Daddy’s former sub, Miranda, and her baby. Everything’s been quiet on that front for a week since Daddy’s lawyer in Manchester got a court order forcing Miranda to get a paternity test. Daddy gets to choose the lab because Miranda’s a doctor and Daddy’s afraid that she’ll be able to falsify the results if she gets tested at the hospital where she works or at a lab where she knows someone. Daddy said he might force Miranda to come to America to get tested. He’s taken some calls in his office that I couldn’t hear over the last few days, so that might be it.
It could be what Rick wanted to see Daddy about. I overheard the part of their phone call where Rick asked Daddy not to bring me along. That was fine by me because I don’t like Rick very much, although I love his friend Daisy Blue and can’t wait to see her again at his party next week. When Daddy came back from Rick’s gym, he didn’t look as relaxed as he usually does after a workout. He was a little needy, too. Well, as needy as Daddy ever gets. Something about what Rick wanted bothered him, but he wasn’t wearing the frowny line like he is now.
It could be the thing Daddy doesn’t want me to know about: the medical bills from his surgery and hospital stay in San Diego. I saw the return address on the envelopes marked confidential that were in the mail when we got back. Logan’s self-employed, same as I am, and I know from when I slipped on ice and broke my ankle three years ago that the co-pays even on something like a single X-ray are insane. He was in surgery for five hours and in the hospital for four days. He had X-rays and MRIs and blood tests out the wazoo. He must owe a ton of money.
A couple of weeks ago the return address on the letters changed to EverCollect, and they began calling the house landline. They wouldn’t speak to me, or even tell me what they were calling about. Then Daddy answered the phone and I think he gave them his cell number because they haven’t called the house phone again. I know who they are and what they do. They’re pressuring Daddy to pay the medical bills. He doesn’t want me to worry about money, and I appreciate him taking adult concerns off my shoulders, but a little takes care of her daddy, too. When the cruise doctor told me Logan should be air-lifted to San Diego, I was prepared to sell one of my houses to pay for his care if he wasn’t insured. Nothing’s changed.
But Logan will never just agree to take money from me to pay his bills. I know my daddy better than that. I need to figure out a way to get him to accept the money while still submitting. If I really belong to him, then my money is his money and if he needs to use it to pay off his medical bills, he should. It’s even in our contract that all my assets belong to him.
But I know he really doesn’t see it that way.
I’m chopping up the tomatoes for a salad and watching Logan pace around the living room with his phone to his ear, talking to someone from his club, when a thought hits me that makes me drop the knife.
What if he’s thinking of selling a house to pay the medical bills, too? This house?
I couldn’t bear it. This place, where I’ve finally, finally felt at home. Where I belong again for the first time since I realized my ex-husband was cheating on me.
A tear drips onto the tomato before I even know I’m crying.
Logan’s beside me a second later, moving the knife away and wiping my cheek with gentle fingers. “What’s wrong, little girl?”
“I had a bad thought.”
“A bad thought like you wanted to hurt yourself?”
I shake my head quickly. Logan knows I cut myself in high school. He’s told me he worries I might hurt myself again if I get overwhelmed by dark thoughts. I have heard that horrible voice from time to time since meeting Logan, criticizing me, telling me I’m not worthy of my daddy’s love. But it’s so much less than it was before I knew him. I feel like I’m getting better every day at dismissing the ugly things it says, remembering that I belong to Daddy and that he holds me in his hands no matter what. I don’t want Logan to worry.
“I’m okay. Promise.”
He takes my face in his hands and looks at me, his dark eyes probing and intent. I meet his gaze for as long as I can.
“Do you want to tell me what the bad thought was?” he asks, his voice as gentle as his hands.
I shake my head. We’ve agreed that I always tell him when I’m having bad thoughts, but I don’t have to tell him what they are. He asks, and if I can tell him, I do. But I’m not ready to tell him about this yet. Not until I’ve figured out what to say.
He kisses my forehead, which makes me go nearly boneless with submission and love and everything I feel for him, because that kiss tells me he has me, and everything will be okay.
“I’ll accept that for right now, little girl, but we’re having Knee Time tonight and I want to hear what’s worrying you.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I can tell him what’s worrying me without getting into my fear that he’ll sell this house or asking permission to sell mine. Maybe if I tell him I know about the medical bills, he’ll talk to me about them. Maman used to say, a problem shared is a problem halved. Even if I can’t help yet, maybe just talking to me about them will make Logan feel better.
His frowny line is gone by the time we eat dinner. Daddy loves my cooking, even when I sprinkle chia seeds on his salad and substitute quinoa for rice. He says he appreciates that I’m helping him be healthy. Daddy was never really unhealthy, except his cholesterol level was a little high. But he has a sweet tooth and goes for carbs and proc
essed sugar to satisfy it. I make him a healthy dessert every day, usually a fruit tart with a nut base because that seems to satisfy him the most, but today I’ve made blueberry, coconut, and cacao parfait because it’s lighter than a fruit tart and we both might appreciate something light after the richness of the steaks.
As we’re finishing the parfait, he takes my hand and squeezes my fingers in his. “Something I want to talk to you about, little girl.”
I’m all ears. My entire body becomes one big receptor, tuning in to take in every word, every nuance and inflection of his tone. I always listen carefully to what Logan says, but when he gives me a heads-up, I turn into a human Very Large Array.
“Yes, Daddy?”
“You’ve been amazing these last couple of weeks, Emmy. You’ve gone so above and beyond for me. Hendry says I’m far ahead of where she expected me to be in my recovery and that’s down to you. You’ve never once whined or complained, even though I know you must have been frustrated and overwhelmed sometimes. I’m blown away by your care.”
I feel the hot prickle in my eyes again. I’m not upset, just moved by his praise. “Ta very much.”
He squeezes my fingers again. “Ta very much to you, little girl. I want you to know how much you’re appreciated. So, I’m going to reward you as your daddy, and I’m going to reward you as your Dom.”
A shiver runs through me. I can’t help it. Rewards from Daddy are super-sweet. Like the chain and charms I wear around my neck, which we both call a memory chain. But I’m really, really hoping that someday he’ll make it a collar. Rewards from Logan when he’s being domly are not sweet. They’re usually painful. In a good way, but still. As much as I want them, they also make me nervous.
“Your reward from Daddy is a kitten. I know you’ve said you’re too flighty to take care of a pet. I don’t believe that but, even if I did, I’d still want you to have a kitten. I’ll help you take care of it. It will become a part of your daily schedule. Would you like a kitty?”
I would love a kitty. I always wanted pets but Maman said I couldn’t have them because I was too irresponsible. My brother Francis had horrible, smelly turtles and gerbils that bit me when I tried to pet them, but I wasn’t allowed any pets. Even the baby squirrel I found after it had fallen out of its nest and took care of until it grew big, I wasn’t allowed to keep. Maman made me release it as soon as the vet said it was big enough to fend for itself. Ash was allergic to anything with fur, so I didn’t have any pets while we were married, either. Once I was out on my own, I always worried that Maman was somehow right: I wouldn’t be able to care for a pet and it would die and it would be my fault. With Logan to keep me structured, I have no such fear.
I have to wipe my eyes and blink very hard before I can answer. “I’d like a kitty so, so much, Daddy.”
“I’m also going to reward you as your Dom. I’m going to give you a Lazy Baby Day. It’s a whole day to stay in bed, watch your favorite movies, and play with Daddy. You don’t need permission for your orgasms and you can have as many as you want. I think Captain Daddy might make an appearance on the first Lazy Baby Day.”
Hot tears spill again. This is too much. Whatever I’ve done to help him recover—and other than the occasional appearance by Grumpy Daddy, it hasn’t really been any kind of hardship—I don’t deserve a kitty and a Lazy Baby Day. But I’m not going to say no. Just the idea that he thinks I’ve been so good that I deserve these rewards makes my insides feel like they’re filled with fireworks.
“If Captain Daddy is coming, then it could be a pirate-themed Lazy Baby Day and we could watch the Pirates of the Caribbean movies and Princess Bride and Treasure Planet and Muppet Treasure Island.” I can feel a big stupid grin spreading across my face at the thought of watching pirate movies and playing with Captain Daddy all day, but I can’t help it. This is the best reward. “And maybe, maybe, maybe, if Captain Daddy wants to, he could tie me up a little.”
Logan chuckles. “That’s a deal. But because this is a reward from me as your Dom, I need your pain first. Lazy Baby Day will be Sunday. Thursday night, we’ll do a scene at my club. You have a choice for the scene, but either way, you’re going to bleed. Do you accept this?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Yes, Daddy.”
We haven’t done much blood play. I had it as a hard limit originally, but we renegotiated our contract earlier this month and I took it off. I’m not afraid that Logan’s going to do something squicky like the Dom who was obsessed with my “V-card” and wanted to do blood play to simulate taking my virginity. And I really, really, really want Logan to brand me; if blood play was a hard limit, he wouldn’t. The branding is probably still at least a month away. He originally said he’d brand me during the harvest festival his club holds in late September. But I’m hopeful we’re getting closer to my branding.
“Option one. Daddy wants to pierce you. The piercings won’t be permanent unless you decide you want them to be. I intend to take the needles and rings out after the scene and let the holes heal up. But I want to pierce at least your nipples and probably some other places, too. Do you agree to this?”
Okay, now I’m getting shaky inside, although I’m not sure if it’s with fear or excitement. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Option two. We talked about Daddy giving you two brands—”
I wobble and nearly fall off my chair. Daddy’s hard arms close around me as I slump sideways. I grab on to him and somehow manage to remain sitting, and conscious.
“Emmy, are you okay?”
I nod. It’s all I can do. I’m so excited that I’m lightheaded. Daddy thinks we’ve built enough trust that he’s considering branding me a month early? I can’t think for the fizzing and tingling of my nerves.
“Option two, Daddy.”
“Ah.” He grins at me. “Someone really wants to be branded.”
“You, Daddy.”
“Still not me, little girl. I want to do the two-moon brand this time. It’s small and will take less time to heal. I’ve already found the brand and it’s beautiful. I think you’ll be very happy with it. I still intend to give you the Circle-X brand, but I haven’t found it yet, so I’m probably going to have to have that made.”
“Okay.” I shudder, still unable to control my excitement.
“Good girl.” He kisses my forehead. “You have until tomorrow night to change your mind. I need to schedule Doctor Chang if I’m going to brand you. I’m happy with either option, little love, so don’t worry if you have second thoughts and decide on option one.”
I shake my head quickly, then stop because I’m so lightheaded I almost fall off the chair again. “I’m not going to change my mind. I want you to brand me, Daddy. Can I ask where you’re going to put it?”
“Mm-hmm, where your hip meets your waist on your left side. You’ll still be able to sleep on your right side the way you like, and cover it even when you’re wearing a bathing-suit, and it won’t prevent me from smacking that little bottom, but when I hold your hips, I’ll feel it.”
I shudder with excitement again. “That’s a really good spot.”
He grins at me. “Glad you think so, little girl. You’re still excited about it, huh? We haven’t talked about it much in the last few weeks.”
“I didn’t want to push,” I say softly.
The last time I pushed Logan into doing something he didn’t really want to do was on the cruise when I asked him to take control of my finances. He agreed, but I could tell at the time he was uncomfortable and had to reshape his own boundaries to do it. I felt really bad about it afterwards and didn’t bring it up when we got back from the West Coast. But Daddy didn’t forget. One of our first trips out of the house when he got back on his feet was to my bank to add him to my accounts and set up an allowance account for me, and then to his bank to set up a joint account for our household expenses. All my other debit and credit cards are locked up in Daddy’s safe. I’m not allowed to see the household expense account, but Daddy promised t
hat he’d fund it half with his money and half with mine. If Daddy says he’s going to do something, he does. I trust him one million percent. He doesn’t need to prove anything to me, even though he does every day.
“There’s a fine line between talking about something you want and trying to assert your will over Daddy’s. I appreciate that you’re wary about stepping over that line, little girl, but I don’t want your submission to mean you never talk with me about the things you want. Part of being your daddy is to help you achieve your goals, and I can’t do that if I don’t know about them, can I?”
That makes sense, my logical daddy. “No, Daddy.”
“Good. That’s settled and I’ll schedule Doctor Chang. Do you have any concerns about the branding?”
“No, Daddy. Well, maybe one. Will the Blunts house subbies be able to watch the scene?”
“Are you worried about Rachel and her cronies watching?”
He reads me so easily it’s scary. “I just don’t want them to hear me scream. Is that okay?”
He leans in and rubs noses with me, holding my eyes. “Yes, little love. It’s okay. I don’t want you to be worried about that during the branding. I’ll arrange it so only Doms can watch the scene.”
“Is that what the stars on the board mean?”
“Mmm, figured that out, have you?” At my nod, he says, “Keep it to yourself. Dom-code.”
That makes me grin. I love when he lets me in on his Dom secrets. Listening to him talk with his friend Niall has given me more insight into the Dom-sub dynamic than five years of being topped.
“Daddy, why don’t you talk to the other Blunts Doms the way you do with Master Niall?”
His chin wrinkles as he considers my question.
“I guess it’s because my friendship with Niall is new. We’re both pretty technical in how we approach topping, so we have a lot in common. He’s open about his technique and likes to compare notes and get my input. And I appreciate his. There are some technical tops at Blunts. Javier is one. I’m not sure if you’ve met Harry, but he is, too. I’ve known them for several years so we’ve had those conversations already.” Then he shrugs. “Also, I just like Niall a lot.”