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But I don’t get far.
“Where are you going?” he says, extending an arm to stop me.
“To the bathroom,” I snap, but he clearly doesn’t like that, so he hooks an arm around my hips and yanks me into his lap.
I let out a yelp as I land on his legs, staring down at him with shock.
“What are you—”
His hand grasps the back of my neck and he drags my face so close to his, I expect him to kiss me.
“Stop it,” he mutters with his lips near mine.
“Stop what?”
“Stop pouting because I told you not to call me that,” he responds.
“What?” I ask, feeling obstinate. “Daddy? Why not? Because you like it too much?”
With a strong hand on my hip, he grinds my body against his legs, and when I feel the hard bulge in his pants, I let out a gasp. “Yes, Daisy, I do. I like it far too much.”
I’m frozen in shock. I don’t know what to say or how to respond. All I know is that my body is on fire with desire, and all I want is for him to grind his erection against me again.
And again and again and again.
Judging by the clenching of his molars and the wired look in his eyes, he does too.
So why won’t he just do it? What is holding him back? Is this really all about keeping me innocent and naive, like he said this morning? Or is there something else Ronan is afraid of?
With a long exhale, he lets go of my neck and the electricity between us starts to fizzle.
“Daisy, I like the way things are right now. Let’s not complicate it. Understand?”
With sex, he means. He thinks that once we start sleeping together, I’ll just become another fling.
“No. I don’t understand, Ronan,” I mumble.
With a huff, I stand, pulling myself out of his grasp. I nearly run into the flight attendant as she appears through the curtain with our dinners on a tray. She stares at me, looking smug, and I grimace in return.
My blood is boiling as I realize that he would rather sleep with her because he has no feelings for her, but he won’t sleep with me…because he does.
RULE #13: A GOOD DADDY ALWAYS LISTENS AND NEVER LAUGHS
Ronan
The flight attendant makes up two beds, probably noticing the cold shoulder Daisy has been giving me during this entire flight.
After eating our dinners, Daisy comes out of the tiny bathroom in a pair of light blue pajamas, the bottoms so short, I can see the curve of her ass below the hemline. I clench my fists as she walks by.
She’s fucking with my head—whether she means to or not.
If she were any other woman, I’d have fucked her a dozen times by now. I’d have put her over my knee for that bratty behavior of hers. If she were someone from the club or a match through the app, I wouldn’t be so goddamn conflicted. But she’s not just another woman. She’s young, naive, and so fucking sweet, it kills me.
And I like her. The more she speaks and the things she says make me like her more, and it’s infuriating.
I’ve been here before. I know this routine. And I don’t want to do it again.
I won’t survive another heartbreak.
