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“Better?” he asks, his lips brushing mine again. “Where’s your head at?”
“So much better,” I say, dazed as I rest my cheek on his shoulder. “And on you.”
He hums. “That’s what I like to hear. Close your eyes and get some sleep, baby. You’re not gonna get much of that tonight.” His hand caresses my hair and I sigh, vaguely hearing the captain announce the seat belt sign is about to be turned off.
Obeying his order isn’t hard when my eyes refuse to stay open. “MmmKay, I’ll take a little nap.”
As always when I’m on the brink of sleep, my mind runs with a checklist: I need to call Doug and have him water my plants and get my mail while I’m gone, and Charlie… I hate the way that ended. I need to call her and make up, but I’ll deal with all this tomorrow.
I’m drifting, loving this feeling of having him with me.
Secure.
Maybe I was overreacting about New York? Because this feels right.Hefeels right. Maybe the city where I was born will feel right, too, if he’s by my side?
Like he heard my thoughts, he presses a kiss to my forehead, whispering, “I’ve got you, Belle.”
Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic, a sucker for love, but I believe him. Nothing bad is going to happen in New York. Not when I’m with Cade.
9
CADE
She’s naive.
A train wreck.
Bad for me but so good when she comes.
So responsive.
So willing…
“My beautiful Belle,” I drawl as I swipe my thumb over my bottom lip, watching her sleep, specifically angled in my seat so that I can study her as she leans against the window, her head tipped down, a demure cast to her features that reels me in like I’m not the one holding the fishing rod.
An angel?
No.
She’s too willing to be corrupted for that.
Reaching for the whiskey I ordered, I take a deep sip and then sigh as it sinks into my veins. I let my eyes close and tilt my head back against the headrest, trying to figure out my next move.
For a moment there, back in the departure lounge, I thought I fucked up by buying those tickets to New York, where fate had been on my side when I’d made our reservations—not that I’d been overly worried when New York was LAX’s most popular destination. Still, she’d been an inch away from tucking tail and returning to Burbank.
Worse than that was the fear I’d seen in her eyes.
I’ve seen her drugged, dazed, pleasure-drunk, delirious, and destructive, but that fear… I hated it.
Fear doesn’t look good on anyone, but it’s even worse on her.
She’s flighty. Ethereal. Not an angel, but a fairy. Yeah, a fairy. Well, if Tinkerbell packed spiked Louboutins for an adventure, that is.
My lips twitch at the thought as the urge to protect her, even from her goddamn self, fills me.
“Daddy, please, no. I’ll be good! I won’t eat the cake,” she whispers, jolting me in my seat.
I’m not averse to being called Daddy in bed, but this is different.
