The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) 📕

from her as it’s possible to be. “I’m in L.A. Heading to Mexico. I’m on a job.”

“Then you’re jet lagged as well. That’s a lethal combination. I’ve seen you like this before, darling. Are you with anyone? Someone you can work it out on? Do you have time to find a bottom? There are plenty of clubs in L.A. Do you want me to make some calls for you?”

I rub my hand over my face. I haven’t told her about Emily. Or any of the women I’ve dated since Mir ended things six months ago. Maybe it’s time. “I’m with someone.”

She’s silent for a moment. “That’s good. Who is she?”

“No one you’d know. I met her at a conference.”

A kinky conference. Mir doesn’t need to know that. Although she’s been a bottom almost as long as I’ve been a top, she still looks down her nose at our lifestyle. My lifestyle, since she’d never admit that she’s part of it. Kink is just a hobby for Mir. Like knitting or fucking flower-arranging.

“She’s a submissive? A service submissive?”

“Yeah.”

“And a masochist?”

“Yes.” I feel myself closing up like a clam. I don’t want to tell her anything about Emily.

“Can I speak to her? Girl to girl? I promise I won’t say anything to embarrass you. I’ll just tell her what you need.”

I need to hang up, is what I need. “She’s not here. She isn’t arriving until tonight.”

“No? Then tell me all about her, darling. What does she look like? Is she blonde and blue-eyed?”

Mir is blonde and blue-eyed. I didn’t consciously go for a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman in picking Emily, but maybe my subconscious compass was pointing as far away from my former lover as possible.

“No, she’s dark. Small. She’s kind of elfin looking, actually. Not a Peter Jackson, Lord of the Rings, elf. She’s a wood elf. Like an ElfQuest elf.”

“You know I have no idea what you’re talking about when you stray from the classics, darling,” Mir says dismissively.

No, she doesn’t. Mir’s never read a comic book. Never sullied herself with anything that might reek of popular culture. Would Emily know what an ElfQuest elf is? I don’t know. She loves fairy tales, but the ones she reads are more high brow than comics. She likes Lego Batman and watches Japanese manga porn, though. I can hope. I pull the phone away from my face, flip over to messages and type Emily a quick text.

“Darling, are you still there?” Mir asks.

“Yeah, sorry, just a notification coming in on my phone.” Fuck, yes, an excuse to get off this call. “Mir, I have to go. The client wants to debrief.”

“Of course. You’ll call me later, won’t you? I want to hear all about this new girl.”

I grit my teeth. “Sure. I might not get another break today, though. This job’s pretty full-on.”

“Business first. That always was the way with you. Take care of yourself, darling.”

“Yeah, you, too, Mir.”

My balls unclench as I end the call. That’s the last time I’m ever calling Mir after a tough interview.

Just as I’m shutting off my phone, Emily pings me back.

Are you questioning my geek credentials, Sir? Of course, I know what an EQ elf is. I have first editions. Signed.

Thank God for her. I laugh and rest my sweaty forehead against the cool window glass.

Favorite character?

Winnowill, duh.

The super-sexy, super-evil villain of the original series. A very dominant villain.

Did you want her to spank you?

Not as much as I want you to spank me, Daddy.

Oh, yes. That’s my baby doll. God, I need her.

You’re going to get your wish.

I want to say more. I want to tell her how desperate I am to see her. How being away from her for three days has been completely miserable. I know I’m as messed up as I am right now not just because of the jet lag or Mrs. Black’s ugly vulnerability or thinking about my sister in a way no brother should for the first time in a decade. It’s because I need my little girl. I shouldn’t need her so much, after just one real date. But the scene and the sex and our time together was so good, so intimate, it opened me up in ways I haven’t been open in a long time. Texting and video-calling her during the days we’ve been apart just crow-barred me further open. Phone sex before breakfast didn’t actually give me any relief; it just dialed me up to eleven. I need her so much every muscle aches with it.

She doesn’t want me to be needy. She wants me to be in control. So, instead of raw truth, I give her coated platitude.

See you in a few hours, baby doll. Looking forward to it.

Me, too, Daddy.

I stare at those words for a long time, standing in the window of the fancy hotel my client’s booked for me, which I would never have laid out for on my own, looking out over a city built on greed and idolatry, counting down the minutes until Emily arrives.

Chapter Two Emily

Eight hours on a plane. You’d think I’d die of boredom.

Instead, I don’t know how I’m going to get everything done.

I’m watching the seatbelt sign like Lloyd and Diane in Say Anything. If anyone asks, I’ll say I’m waiting to turn my phone on. But the truth is, despite all the traveling I’ve done, I’m a bit of a nervous flyer.

Once the light goes off, I drag my backpack from under my feet and plop it in the empty seat beside me. Where Logan should be sitting. I rub my fingertips over the seat cushion, wishing he were here.

I try to shake it off. I’ll see him in less than eight hours.

But I really want my daddy now.

I pull my phone out of my backpack, unlock it and am just tapping up the settings to switch it into airplane mode, when a woman leans over me.

I look up into her blue and white uniform and mega-watt smile.

With a guilty gulp,