Page 4 of Daddy Down Under

I sighed as I turned my gaze toward the impeccably dressed flight attendant. “Sure, why not?”

If I had to endure this sober, I might end up either killing or fucking someone. Right now, it was a fifty-fifty toss-up as to which direction it was headed.

I accepted the glass and took a sip. Jesus fuck, had they raided the Dollar Store for this absolute piss of a drink? I could barely keep my face from distorting. Luckily, the flight attendant had already moved on, and her colleague was starting with the announcements.

“We’re waiting for the last few passengers from a delayed connecting flight, and then boarding will be complete.”

I tuned her out, staring out the oval window, watching the last luggage loaded onto the plane as I downed the sorry excuse for prosecco. I consoled myself with the idea that shitty prosecco was still alcohol, and hopefully, it would help me sleep. The flight was only an hour and a half long, but it was long enough to catch a much-needed nap.

“Thank god we made it!” a fifty-something woman wearing the ugliest dress in the world panted as she stormed onto the aircraft. Her husband followed right behind her, looking as if he wouldn’t have minded if he’d missed the flight. Same, dude. Same.

“Welcome aboard,” the flight attendant greeted them with a toothy smile. Two more people made their way onto the plane, but I directed my attention out the window again.

“Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you,” came the breathy reply from another guy who entered the plane.

A dull clunk, and then my glass flew out of my hand as someone toppled over the empty seat next to me and landed in my lap. The prosecco sprayed my face as I instinctively held on to whoever had face-planted into me. I spluttered an expletive.

“Mr. Sullivan!”

The flight attendant sounded mortified. Was it her colleague who had stumbled and fallen? I blinked the prosecco out of my eyes and focused on the person on my lap. My hands encountered hard muscles, not the softness of a female body, and when I could finally see again, I was staring into eyes the color of tropical seas, framed by impossibly long lashes. The young man sprawled across me grinned, his full lips curving into a lazy smile that sent an unexpected jolt through my body.

Oh, he was gorgeous. His eyes were captivating, impossibly blue oceans, and he looked like a surfer with his dirty-blond hair and tanned face. He had the age for it too. He couldn’t be older than twenty-five. Apparently, I had found myself a new type because my body reacted.

“Oh,” he said, not moving a muscle.

“Oh, indeed,” I said dryly. “Were you planning on getting up anytime soon, or was it your intention to spend the rest of the flight on my lap?”

I expected him to crawl off me in embarrassment, but instead, a slow smile spread across his full lips. “I wasn’t aware that was an option.”

Cheeky little shit. “Well, traveling business class does come with certain perks.”

He laughed, a rich sound that seemed to vibrate through me. “So I’m discovering. You make one hell of a landing pad.”

Our eyes held, and all my previous boredom vanished. I had no clue who this guy was, though he looked oddly familiar, but I was hell-bent on finding out.

“Sir, are you hurt?”

The flight attendant pulled on the guy’s legs, and he finally looked away. I reluctantly let go of him, and he slid to his feet in an elegant move. As he shifted to stand, his thigh brushed against my rapidly hardening cock. I bit back a groan, equal parts mortified and aroused. What the hell was happening to me?

“Sorry about that,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “Some asshole left their bag in the aisle. Guess the universe decided I needed a change in seating arrangements.”

“Mr. Sullivan, I’m so sorry.”

The flight attendant was clearly more concerned about me than the surprise that had landed in my lap. “I’m fine.”

Well, other than the crappy prosecco still dripping from my face. Yuck, that would soon become sticky and gross. Not the kind of facial I preferred.

“You need to get to your seat,” the flight attendant said, her tone considerably cooler as she addressed the guy. “What seat are you in?”

“Er, 58A, I think. Somewhere all the way in the back.”

I glanced at the empty seat beside me, an idea forming. “You know, I actually have an extra seat booked. If you’d like to avoid any more in-flight acrobatics, you’re welcome to join me.”

His eyes lit up, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Well, aren’t you the gentleman? I’d be crazy to turn down such a generous offer.”

“Mr. Sullivan, I don’t think —”

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