Daisy
“Of course, it’s a private jet,” I say with a sarcastic smile.
He grins proudly as we walk across the tarmac, his eyes hidden behind dark aviators.
“Would you rather fly commercial?”
“No, thank you,” I reply as we reach the plane. There’s a flight attendant standing at the top of the stairs waiting for us, and Ronan gestures for me to go first, while he stops to have a word with the pilot, standing on the ground.
“Welcome,” the woman greets me cheerfully.
My lips pull into a tense smile as I step onto the plane. I immediately feel a wave of shame with how stunning this plane is, as if I don’t deserve this. I shouldn’t be taking a single thing from Ronan, but here he is treating me like a queen.
When we both woke up past noon today, we were tangled in each other’s arms, and I could immediately feel how tense Ronan was. I was using his arm as a pillow, my body molded to his, and my butt firmly planted against his groin. My eyes popped open in mortification as I realized our position, quickly climbing out of his bed and hiding my face in embarrassment for the rest of the day.
Getting involved with Ronan really is out of the question. I’m here for answers, not to hook up with the same man my mom might have. He just wants to spoil me a bit, and I’m going to let him. That’s it.
The flight attendant takes my bag from my shoulder. “Thank you,” I say.
“Please make yourself comfortable and let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” I repeat. There are two rows of seats, and a few in the back that face each other with a small table in between. Just as I sit down in one of the seats, Ronan climbs on board and immediately makes eye contact with me.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
“Of course,” I reply with a blushing smile. When he takes the seat across the aisle from me, I feel his gaze on my face and I turn toward the window to hide the urge to grin at him.
Head on straight, Daisy.
When I glance back at him, he’s snickering, his legs crossed in front of him.
“What is so funny?”
He leans closer so our heads are nearly touching. “This flight attendant is new. I’ve never met her before. And she seems to think you’re my daughter.”
My eyes widen as I lift them to look at his face. “She does?”
“Yeah. She said, ‘Let me know if I can get you or your daughter anything during our flight.’”
My cheeks flush. “She was flirting with you!” I whisper.
“No, she wasn’t.” His brow is furrowed in denial as he looks down at his phone.
“Yes, she was. She was checking to see if you’d correct her, and you didn’t.”
When he leans away, leaving the aisle clear for the flight attendant to walk through, I get an overwhelming sense of jealousy creeping through me like fire. When she holds the tray carrying two flutes of champagne, I glance up at her face to find her watching Ronan with interest.
He smiles up at her, and my jaw clenches on reflex.
I reach a hand out and intimately brush it against the sleeve of his shirt, for no reason at all. Okay, there is a reason, and it’s to assert dominance. I notice the way her eyes track the movement, and it pleases me.
“Will I be making up one full bed or two singles for the flight?” she asks.
“One bed,” I bark before Ronan has time to answer.
The woman shoots me a fake smile and I bite back my irritation. I have no claim on Ronan and no reason to stop him from flirting with whoever he wants. But I’ll be damned if this woman is going to step in on him while I’m right here.
I take my hand away from his arm and take the flute of champagne from the tray.
“We can go straight to the apartment when we arrive so you can freshen up,” he says. “And if you’re up for it, I think the Louvre in the morning would be perfect.” He finally looks up from his phone, and I can’t help myself. My next words come flying out of my mouth.
“Whatever you want, Daddy.”
The flight attendant’s eyes snap toward my face at the same moment Ronan’s do, and I’m biting my lip so hard, I’m afraid it will bleed. I’m staring straight ahead as I put the bubbly drink to my lips and take a satisfying sip.
But when I turn my gaze to him, I freeze at the expression on his face. It’s serious and nearly in shock. He clears his throat, adjusting himself in his seat as he looks away.
The smile drains from my face. After a tense moment, the flight attendant moves back to the private part of the plane, where she’s out of earshot.
“Don’t do that again,” he mumbles.
My cheeks flood with heat. “What? Why?”
With a stern glance, he replies, “You know why.”
It’s tense and quiet between us as the plane starts to move down the runway, and I’m so lost in this haze of confusion and strange longing that I don’t know which way is up.
Did me calling Ronan Daddy really affect him that much?
I can’t shake this weird feeling in my belly from being reprimanded by him. Ronan has always been warm and kind to me, but that sudden cold tone of his went straight down my spine like ice water.
The entire time we climb to altitude, I’m stewing in my seat. I don’t even know why I’m angry at him or what I want, but I’m fuming. So angry I want to stomp my feet and cause a scene. I want that flight attendant to know that I am the one here with him, and I’m not his fucking daughter. I’m the center of his attention. The one he will be focusing on. Even if we’re not romantic or sleeping together, right now, he belongs to me.
We’re cruising at ten thousand feet when I feel Ronan’s eyes land on my face, and I know he can tell how upset I am. I hate sitting under his scrutiny, so with a huff, I unclasp my belt and bolt out of my seat.
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.
