Page 8 of Still His

“Well, if it isn’t my long lost daughter. How are you doing Catherine?” he asks, his voice deep with a slight rasp that sends electricity running through me. It’s been years since I’ve heard his voice, seen his face.

Gah, the man is still magnificent.

Seeing him standing there in all of his glory, my heart starts beating faster. He’s well over six feet tall, his black hair barely showing evidence of his aging. Just from looking at him in the dark grey suit, I can tell he’s wider and more built than he was when I left, and I suck in a breath.

“Dad.” I swallow and force my eyes to meet his dark blue ones, a storm brewing that I can’t comprehend. “How did you know I was here?” I ask, and he gives me the faintest of smirks.

“Darcy called and told me. I was shocked, actually.” He narrows his eyes at me, standing to his full height and pulling me into a hug.

His entire body is pressed against mine and it takes everything to hold in the whimper of feeling him again as his scent surrounds me. He’s never been one for cologne, just a nice deodorant that isn’t overly strong mixed with his male scent.

“I missed you, kitty cat,” he whispers into my hair as he holds me tight, my one hand still holding on to my suitcase as the other arm wraps around him.

“Missed you too, Daddy,” I whisper and I think I hear him suck in a breath. I hadn’t meant that to slip out. Hell, I hadn’t called him that in years.

“We have a lot to discuss, little one.” He pulls back and gives me a dark look and I nod, my eyes never leaving his dark ones.

“I know.” I fidget from one foot to the other as I try and gather my thoughts so I don’t come across as some bumbling idiot. “I was going to call you as soon as I got to Darcy’s. I know you don’t like your schedule messed with. I wanted to give you time and make sure you still wanted to see me.” My voice feels small as I avert my eyes and he growls.

“Look at me, kitty cat.” His voice is strong and commanding, and my eyes instantly snap to his as I see a flicker of something pass over his face. “Good girl,” he praises and I can’t hold back the whimper this time, rubbing my thighs together from his praise.

God, isn’t this all I’ve ever wanted? For him to dominate me, command me. To be my Daddy, my Master?

My cheeks flush with embarrassment as his eyes travel to my thick thighs and he swallows.

“You are never, ever going to be something I need a warning for.” A smirk plays over his lips as he takes my suitcase and guides me towards the waiting town car.

Once we get settled into the back seat, I take a deep breath and relax.

“Are you mad at me?” I feel the tears building as I ask the question, truly afraid of his response, and he sighs.

“No, Cat. I’m not mad at you, not anymore.” I blink, my heart stopping in my chest as he calls me the name that Dante uses with me.

Holy sweet mother of the gods, Dad calling me Cat is even hotter than Dante using it. Speaking of Dante, I need to remember and send him a message to tell him my travel went safely.

It seems kind of weird to message him when he isn’t paying me, but he insisted on knowing I was safe and it’s kind of sweet that he cares about my safety.

“Thank you.” I smile at him, and he nods his head at me before looking back at the window, adjusting himself in the seat so his one ankle is over his knee.

“You’re welcome. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have a lot to talk about.” I suck in a breath. “But let’s give you a bit to get settled before all of that, hmm?” he asks, and I know it’s not really a request.

What Simon wants, Simon gets. But this isn’t like before. What if I want to talk about it now?

For now, I concede to what he’s saying but I doubt it will last long.

It’s extremely hot to see him be so dominant so I’m slightly distracted from my thoughts anyways. It was one of the things that initially drew me in. He just always has this feel of authority about him.

“Okay, Daddy,” I whisper in acknowledgement, and I swear he lets out a groan.

Yeah, wishful thinking, Cat. Even if by some miracle he is into you, he’s not going to allow himself to make such a careless move within the first hour of having you back.

I wish he would though.

“So, how was your flight?”

That’s what he chooses to ask me right now?

“Fine?” It comes out as a question, and he looks at me.

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