by Frost, E J
Fuck. “Did Laurel seem like she was in pain or wanting him to stop hitting her?”
“No. She seemed to really get off on it. What’s this all about, man?”
Shit. Time to wrap this up. “I’m just looking into things for Rick. Mostly I want to track down Laurel. Thanks for your help with that.”
“Yeah, okay.” Tiger Tail doesn’t sound appeased. “Guy’s wasting his time, though. She’s off the market.”
“Thanks. I’ll let him know. I appreciate you talking with me.” I tap my pen against my notebook as I search for a way to end this call but leave the conversation open-ended enough that I can call him back later if I need to.
Tiger Tail does it for me. “Listen, if your boss wants to do another threesome, tell him I’m up for it anytime. Just give him this number, okay?”
Is this bastard for real?
“No problem.”
I thank him again and hang up, then quickly dial the number for Devota “Dovie” Donegan, hoping to catch her early and potentially before she speaks to Tiger Tail, but the call goes through to voice mail. I leave a message before joining my little girl for breakfast.
* * *
Emily’s put a pink, floral playsuit over the white fishnets and removed the apron, but she’s still wearing the butt plug, and a huge grin, as she greets our guests. She’s taken me being an hour behind schedule all day completely in stride and if she’s concerned that she’s still setting out trays of vegetarian lasagna, homemade hummus, deep-fried eggplant, blue-corn tortilla chips, and green salad garnished with tomatoes from our garden when people start arriving, you’d never know it as she hugs my business partner, Manny, and his wife, Jen, and takes the three, deep-dish pizzas they’ve brought with them to set out on the buffet.
She flits back and forth from the kitchen to the door, my giddy imp. She may be an introvert, and groups of strangers may never be easy for her, but she loves gatherings of friends. She’ll be hyped all night, without a drop of alcohol. After everyone goes, she’ll crash, and tomorrow she’ll be subdued and need lots of cuddles. Small price to pay for seeing her so happy now.
I can’t take this away from her. She loves living in the City. Loves my house. Loves my club. Loves my friends. I can’t tear her away from all this and move her back to Syracuse when she’s just found it.
What the fuck am I going to do?
“Who kicked your dog, buddy?” Max slaps me between the shoulder blades, disrupting my train of thought.
I give him an arch glance. “Hello to you, too, mate.”
He holds up a mesh bag of limes and a bottle of tequila. “Liquid courage. Cure whatever ails you.”
I shake my head at him. “First rule of topping. Keep booze and drugs to a minimum. Topping’s all the high you need.”
“Fuck that,” Max says. “I’m just watching, so I can be drunk as a fucking skunk. Enjoy your non-alcoholic beer, sucker.”
Emily bounces over to us, and how she does that with the butt plug in, I don’t know. Taking the limes and tequila from Max, she chirps, “Hi, Max. I’ll put you out a shot glass and some salt. Unless you’d rather just mainline?”
“Hey, girlie-girl. Give me a straw and I’ll be all set.”
She grins at him before she bounces away.
“You hit her,” Max growls at me. “That little sweetheart. You hit her.”
“Every damn day,” I growl back. “She’s fresh off a spanking over my desk. She came twice. Does she look unhappy to you?”
“Asshole.”
“Wanker. You agreed to approach this with an open mind.”
“That was before I saw her running around like Tinkerbell on speed. How can you want to hurt her?”
“She’s running around like Tinkerbell on speed because I hurt her. Exactly the way she wants me to.” I shake my head at him when he starts to object. “Watch the scene. Ask me again afterwards.”
Max rolls his shoulders under his black tee. I’ve never seen Max in anything other than a black tee and jeans. Thick, black, leather belt. Black Docs. Military buzz cut. He looks more like a Dom than I do.
I snort.
“What?” he asks.
“For someone who isn’t a top, you wear the uniform well. C’mon, let me introduce you to Lucy, Austin, and Justine. They’re friends from the club. They like to be spanked, too.” I set off towards the group of subs clustered around the buffet on the kitchen island.
Once he picks his jaw up off the floor, Max follows me.
Rick’s the last to arrive, turning up so late I’ve all but given up on him. When he walks in, the reason for his delay follows a step behind him. From their frowns and the flush of Rick’s neck, it’s evident they’ve been arguing on the way over.
“Daisy!” Emily squeals as soon as she sees Rick’s guest and runs across the entire great room to throw her arms around her friend. Daisy’s frown lifts as soon as she hears Emily’s voice. Flipping back the waist-length, blue-tipped, blonde curls that are her trademark, Daisy opens her arms and crushes Emily to her enhanced bosom.
“I didn’t think you were coming in until Friday,” Emily gushes.
Daisy pinches Emily’s chin and sinks a hand into my little girl’s hair, holding her still for a kiss. I roll my eyes and growl when the kiss starts involving tongue. “Daisy, behave.”
Daisy breaks the kiss and shoots me a sly glance before she lets Emily step back. “Dolly, no way would I miss a chance to hang with you. As soon as Rick told me about your soiree today, I changed my flight.” She turns, hooks her arm through Emily’s and strolls towards the couches where everyone is gathered watching the game. “You gonna take time out of your busy sched to come shopping with me?”
I groan. The last time Daisy took Emily shopping, she came back with a dozen crotchless panties that were nearly the death of me. I’ve never been so fucking chapped.
Emily throws me a mischievous glance over Daisy’s shoulder. “There’s a sale on at Syren’s Secret.”
Cheeky monkey. She’ll pay for teasing me.
Before my boner gets the better of me, I turn to Rick. “How’re you doing, mate?”
He nods. His frown is slower to fade than Daisy’s, but he looks a little less tense than when he entered. “Not too bad. Could use one of those.”
He gestures at the beer in my hand.
Like I’m fucking waiting on him. Before I even tip my chin towards the counter where the beers are sitting in ice, Lucy glides over, offering Rick a Corona with a lime wedge tucked into the neck.
“Hey, sunshine.” He takes the bottle and slings his arm around her neck. “Now that’s the way I like to be greeted.”
She pecks him on the cheek, a curiously passionless gesture. “Hey, you. Everything okay?”
He nods and sinks his hand into her hair to hold her for a longer kiss. “Much better now.”
Lucy smiles, but there’s still no heat to it. Could it be that she’s just not attracted to him? Emily’s told me she doesn’t find him attractive, but most women must or he’d be out of a job.
I glance around to locate my little girl, since she’s been out of eyeshot for longer than a minute and that’s too long. Daisy’s got her snuggled down on the couch, with Emily’s face practically buried in Daisy’s over-ample bust while Daisy strokes Emily’s hair. Fuck, that woman.
“Daisy, let her up,” I growl.
Daisy laughs, which would be a nice sound if she wasn’t encroaching. “Go to your Daddy before he has a coronary,” she tells Emily. “We’ll have lots of alone-time when we go shopping.”
Fuck.
Emily takes the opportunity to extricate herself and rushes back to my side. I tuck her against me and nuzzle her temple. “I’m going to get you a tee-shirt to wear when Daisy’s around,” I tell her.
“Property of Daddy?” she asks.
Mischief. “Exactly.”
Emily giggles. “She mostly does it in front of you, you know. She doesn’t touch me when you’re not around except to hold hands.”
/>
I’d like to growl that holding hands is too much, but Daisy actually offered to hold Emily’s hand, particularly while they’re crossing streets. That kind of thing helps Emily feel little, and since one of my goals in topping Emily is to create a safe space where she can be little all the time, I appreciated the offer. Daisy clearly gets a kick out of winding me up, but I can’t fault her as either a Domme or a friend.
We’re interrupted by Max joining the group. “This the Porn King?” He tips his chin at Rick.
Great, they’re off to a flying start.
Before Rick’s frown can return, I hold out my hand between them. “Rick, this is Max, my IT guy.” I’m careful with what I say, because I know Little Miss Curiosity at my side will be all ears. “Max, this is Rick Errol.”
“The guy paying your bill,” Rick says, without offering his hand to shake.
Well, that’s subtle. Thanks, Rick.
Max grins before he takes a long draw on his beer. I guess he decided not to mainline the tequila after all. “I hear you throw some wild parties,” Max says.
Rick flashes his teeth, but it’s not a smile. “If you’re angling for an invite, sorry, party’s full.”
“Nope, not my thing,” Max says. Only to be greeted with stone faces from Rick, Lucy, Emily, and Austin, who has walked over with a plate of eggplant chips.
Emily elbows Max in the ribs. “But you’re going to watch tonight, right? With an open mind? You promised.”
I hide my grin. Max is about to learn the second rule of being a daddy: break promises to your little at your peril.
“Em—” he begins.
I feel her draw herself up against my side. “Don’t ‘Em’ me, Max. You promised. Don’t be a Magneto.”
Max winces like he’s caught one in the solar plexus. “I’m not. I just can’t watch him hurt you.”
“I’m not going to—” I begin, but I don’t need to, because Max has just lit Emily’s fuse.
She shifts out from under my arm so she can plant her hands on her hips while she glares up at Max, who is nearly a foot taller than she is. He doesn’t look so big at the moment, though.
“Totally a Magneto, Max. He talks the talk but doesn’t walk the walk. Mystique always has to do all the dirty work while he stands in the background being disapproving and judgy. Don’t be like that. Before you judge, know what you’re judging.”
I rest my hand in the small of her back so she knows I have her, but let her take Max and his prejudice head-on. A glance around the silent group shows that everyone else has made the same choice, although Rick’s mouth is hanging open and Austin’s had to shove his knuckles in his to keep from laughing.
“I’m not judging you, Em—”
“You are! You keep saying that you can’t watch Logan hurt me, but you don’t understand what hurt is. Hurt is being married for five years and never once having an orgasm because your husband didn’t love you enough to give you what you needed. Hurt is hiding, every single day, how you feel inside and not being yourself and never feeling free because you don’t have a daddy to make rules and keep you safe. Hurt is feeling so alone in the world that you can’t face another day and have to cut yourself to let the pain out before you explode. That’s what hurt is. So, don’t tell me you can’t watch Logan hit me because that is not hurt, Max.”
Everyone just stares at my little girl for a moment, including Max.
“Fuck.” Max opens his arms and Emily immediately goes to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a huge hug. That seals it. He’s a daddy. She’d never do that with a top like Javier or Rick. She does it because he’s a daddy and she’s a little and daddies need to nurture and comfort as much as littles need to be nurtured and comforted.
Max lays his cheek on the top of Emily’s hair and whispers to her, “Sorry, girlie-girl. I didn’t realize what I was doing.”
“Be a Xavier, Max,” she says into his chest.
“I’ll try my hardest.”
“And have some of my eggplant chips.”
I snort and have to cover it with a cough.
“Fuck, no,” says Max.
“They’re fried,” Emily coaxes.
“They’re a vegetable.”
“So’s a potato. Same thing.”
“Really not.”
“They’re fucking awesome, though,” Austin interjects, holding a plate of fried eggplant out into the middle of the circle. “Seriously, Emily, I don’t know what you do to them.”
“Salt and dry them first,” Emily says, stepping back from Max and tucking herself back against my side. I kiss the top of her head so she knows how proud I am of her, before I take a handful of eggplant crisps from the plate and pop the crunchy handful into my mouth.
The group breaks up after that, with Rick leading Lucy to the couch to sit next to Daisy, who was watching Emily take on Max with a great deal more interest than the ballgame. Daisy winks at me before she turns back around to face the telly.
* * *
During the seventh-inning stretch, with the Yankees two runs up, I drag Rick, Manny, and Max into my office and update them. I’ve tried Dovie Donegan three more times since breakfast and the call’s gone to voice mail every time. Either she’s a really late riser or she’s dodging the call.
“Don’t worry,” Max says. “With a full name, address and phone number, I’ll get you every number the girl’s ever had by tomorrow night. She’ll answer one of them before long. And there probably aren’t too many Laurels that work for DC lobbyists who use Manning, Dermont, and Castillo for pension services. I’ll track her down.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. How does he know what a lobbyist would want from Pedro Castillo’s firm?
“I was curious,” he says with a shrug.
“Good job, hermano,” Manny says, giving Max a whack on the back that earns Manny a scowl from Max. Manny benches 380 and throws it around without much caution.
Rick leans back against the edge of my desk and crosses his arms over his Armani-covered chest. “Yeah, good job, both of you. Logan, man, the shit you turn up never ceases to amaze me. Still, Glory’s pissing in my ear. Traffic to my site’s down a third in two days.”
“Let me find this girl and make sure you’re insulated from a rape charge and that she’s not a psycho. Then you and Glory can decide how best to capitalize on the publicity. My first concern’s your safety, Rick. This is all a complete waste of time if you get hurt or end up in jail.”
Rick scratches the back of his neck, where his hair is curling over his collar. Is he growing a fucking mullet? Standing with the three of us, all ex-military and sporting crew-cuts, he looks like a hippy.
“I hear you, man,” he says to me. “Keep up the good work. Look, this is what I pay Glory for, but I get that not everyone agrees with her. Daisy had a fuck-ton to say on the way over, too. She says people in the industry have longer memories than I realize. She thinks I need to do more than shut it down. I need to get Evonne or Laurel or whatever her name is to support me publicly.”
Fuck, that’s a big leap from finding the woman and shutting her up.
“What, like print a retraction or something?” Max asks.
“Yeah, something like that. A statement where she says she misunderstood the situation and now that we’ve gotten together again, she realizes it was all consensual.”
I can’t see that happening, but this is getting way ahead of where we need to be. “Okay, that’s a goal to work towards, but we’ve got to find her first. That’s the priority.” I rub my fingertips up and down on the scar on my forehead, then pull my hand away before I turn into bloody Harry Potter. “Rick, something I need you to understand. If Laurel really is in DC, I’m probably going to need to go meet her. I’m not cleared to fly yet, so I’ll have to drive or take the train. I’ll be a couple of days. I’m not leaving Emily here while I go to DC. She needs to come with me. I’m not saying I’m going to tell her what’s going on, just that she needs to come with me.”
Rick lifts one shoulder uncomfortably.
“Why doesn’t Emily know already?” Max asks, his voice dropping to a rumble.
“Because it’s none of her business,” Rick snaps.
I hold up a hand. “Rick hasn’t authorized any disclosure outside the three of us and I’m fine with that. I just want Rick to understand why she’s traveling with me. Are we good?”
Rick nods. “You probably think I’m being an asshole. Everyone else in the world knows. But Emily’s never liked me and—”
Before I can counter that, Max growls, “Shows she’s a good judge of character. Are we done?”
I nod, wanting to end this before they go for each other physically. Max has easily fifty pounds and a lot of combat experience on Rick. Rick’s paying our bills. There’s no good way for it to end if I don’t separate them.
Max stalks out, trailed by Manny, who has never been Rick’s biggest fan, either, but a bodyguarding job is a bodyguarding job.
Rick sighs and sinks back into himself after they leave. “Thanks, man.”
“Look, I’m sorry about Max’s attitude. He’s really good at what he does.”
Rick glances up at me. “I wasn’t being sarcastic. I mean it. Thank you. I know you’re not happy with me, but you haven’t dumped me. I’m starting to realize that this shit could cost me more than money.” He rubs his hand through his hair. “Daisy’s saying that without some kind of public statement by Evonne, she won’t cast me again. So much for friendship, huh?”
“I’m sorry, mate.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get it sorted. I only told you what I’ve found. Not what I think. And what I think is that Laurel Whateverhernameis isn’t the one behind this. It doesn’t tally. Both you and Damon Tiger say that the scene and sex were consensual. Playing with a stranger without any negotiation and a safe word might have been stupid, but it wasn’t rape. Tiger’s a witness, and he’s definitely not on EvonneBringsTheTruth’s side. I’m a lot less concerned about prosecution than I was a day ago.”
Rick’s eyes lighten. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. As for the PR side, let’s find Laurel and see what we can do. I was figuring on a pay-out anyway. Maybe instead of a non-disclosure agreement, she’ll sign some kind of statement. One step at a time, mate.”
