Detective Daddy and the Yellow Rose of Texas, Part 4 of 5

Here’s more of the third Detective Daddy story. Today’s section is pretty short.

In case you missed it:

***

Part Four of Five

***

Sweetheart’s Diary, 10/4/14

When I woke up, Daddy’s side of the bed was cool. I found him in the dining room, wearing just a pair of shorts, working on his computer. He saw me coming, saw that I was still naked, and smiled. “Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn’t sleep.”

I nodded and went to him. He took off his glasses and reached out, and when I was close enough put his arms around me and buried his face in my breasts. I held onto him as he kissed me, not in a sexy way but a comforting one. When he tilted his head back, I leaned down and kissed his mouth. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you.” He had one hand on my hip, and the other on my back. “This guy’s good.”

I looked at his computer screen. He had a program open, one that he’d helped to write, that combed the internet for references to whatever person’s name you put in. Then it took the information it found and refined the search, working continuously until it found everything there was. Or, at least, everything it thought there was.

There wasn’t a ton of information on Brad Clark, according to the screen. “That’s his name? The guy stalking Joe’s friend?”

He nodded. “I don’t think they’re friends.”

“Whatever they are. It’s early.” I turned and sat on Daddy’s lap; he put his arms around my waist. “What happened last night?”

“What do you mean?”

I gave him a little smile. “Don’t get me wrong, Daddy; I love that I’m still aching this morning–“

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I booped him on the nose. “I said I love it. Now be quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled and brushed a kiss over my left nipple. It responded; it always did. Daddy’s mouth is one of my favorite things.

“I was just going to say,” and I knew I had to say it before he distracted me too much, “that you don’t normally just jump on me like that.”

“I know.” He sighed and rested his face against my breast. “I was just frustrated, I guess. And disappointed.” He was almost mumbling the words against my skin. “Joe and I made plans. You were going to meet him, and he and I were going to have sex. I really want him to fuck me, sweetheart.”

“I know, Daddy.” I ran my fingers through his hair. I felt a tiny spark of jealousy; polyamory is hard even when you actively choose to be supportive. But I wasn’t going to fan the flames. If I hadn’t wanted Daddy to pursue anything with Joe, I would have told him, and because we love each other, he wouldn’t have. I’m always first to him, and he’s always first to me.

“And now,” he was saying, “Rose comes along and makes him remember how he felt when his ex put him second, which is literally what I’d be doing. I mean, I told him exactly that. I didn’t want to lie to him.”

“Even when you told him, he still wanted to be with you?”

“I’m pretty sure.” Daddy’s cock stirred. His shorts were thin, and I was naked, and I felt it against my thigh. “We kissed in the server room, and he was definitely ready right there.”

Heat spread through my chest and I had to fight down a squirm. “That’s really hot.”

He nodded. “I stopped him, but I bet if I’d let him he’d have gone down on me right there.” His cock was getting harder now. “He told me to come over Sunday, but it seemed like he was pissed off about me being married. He made a crack about asking your permission.”

“Daddy…”

“I know, sweetheart.” He squeezed me tighter, and I took his shoulders in mine, [squeezing] them. “I want to go, but I don’t want to lead him on. I want to have sex with him, but I don’t want him to feel shitty about it.”

“Maybe,” I said, my voice soft, “maybe he can’t handle polyamory. Or being a secondary. Maybe he needs to be someone’s one-and-only.”

“And that’s okay, if he’d just come out and say it. But if he doesn’t, then I get to be the asshole who stops things.”

I blinked hard. I hated when Daddy got down on himself like that. “You’re not an asshole, Daddy. I promise.”

“I know.” He tilted his head up and I knew what that meant. I kissed him, gently at first, but when his mouth softened I took control of it for a moment. The sensation must have gone straight to his cock, because I felt it get really hard almost instantly. When we separated, his pupils were dilated. “Sweetheart?”

I stood up, pulling out of his arms, and then reached down to tug his shorts out of the way. I left the waistband under his balls, pushing his cock straight up, and knelt in front of him. He throbbed hard when my hands wrapped around his shaft. “You’re the best Daddy ever,” I said, looking up at him. I knew my face was serious now, and I meant it to be. “You’re sweet, and kind, and you’re a good man. You’ll do the right thing.”

“Tara…”

I felt tears fill my eyes and I didn’t want him to see, so I bent my head and took his cock into my mouth. He shuddered, and I knew his head was falling back as he gave himself over to the sensation. And that was okay.

I wasn’t sad or upset. I was happy that he was such an amazing person, happy that he was mine, and if it happened that Joe couldn’t deal, that was okay. More Daddy for me.

*

Daddy and I spent a quiet day together. We went out for brunch, took a walk in the park, and stopped for groceries on the way home. In the afternoon he took me upstairs and we made love, and he was extra-gentle because he knew my pussy was sore. Not that he also didn’t make me come a bunch of times, but he didn’t fuck me as hard as he normally did. It took a long time for him to come that way, and I was even more sore afterward, but it was perfect anyway.

That night, as we watched a DVR’d episode of Criminal Minds, Daddy’s phone buzzed. “Who is it?”

“Rose,” he said. “I guess Joe gave her my e-mail.”

“What’s up?” I tried to sit up, but Daddy kept his arm around me and wouldn’t let me. I liked it when he did that, mostly because I knew that if I really needed up, he wouldn’t stop me.

It’s the little things.

“She got another text. She sent me the number and a screenshot. He says…” Daddy tapped his screen and I saw what looked like text message bubbles. “He says he knows she’s here. In Georgia. He’ll be waiting for her when she gets back.”

I suppressed a shudder. “What an asshole.”

“Yeah.” He set his phone in his lap so he could pull over the little rolling desk we kept in the living room. One-handed, he woke up his computer and typed in the phone number Brad Clark had used. The search program chewed it up and started to work, and we went back to the show.

But less than a minute later, I was sitting up because Daddy had his desk right in front of him, both hands on the keyboard. I watched as he narrowed the search parameters. He didn’t have all the resources of the fake FBI, like Garcia did on the show, but he didn’t need them. Brad Clark had used a gift card to buy the phone from Target, and the gift card had been purchased by Joanna Clark. A cursory search found a whole spate of religion-filled posts on Facebook, and then Daddy had him.

#

Evidence: E-mail

Case File 003

Filed 10/4/14 9:04pm

To: Rose Forrester (yellowrosef@freemail.cx)

Fr: Will Waterhouse (will@wis.cx)

Re: Re: FW: meet me please

Rose,

Please find attached all the information I could compile on Brad Clark. Send it to the detective assigned to your case and it should be enough for them to at least issue a restraining order. Also, since he said he’d be waiting for you, it may be enough for them to do something beforehand. Still, you should ask for an escort to your car.

I hope this is the last you’ll have to hear from him.

Will Waterhouse

***

Clearly I did no research on how the legal portion of restraining orders and stalking charges actually works. I’m sure if I’d published this I would’ve done some. Really.

Tomorrow: the finale!

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