Page 4 of Praise Me: Pilot
He seems genuinely…annoyed on my behalf? His gaze is glued to my traitorous lip, the cognac color of his eyes deepening with regret. Helplessness. But I’m nowhere near giving Joel the benefit of the doubt. My trust issues with men run too deep for that.
“How do you know my father?”
“We’re good friends. We work together.”
“You’re a pilot?”
He inclines his head. “Phil helped me get my start piloting commercially. It’s not an easy transition from flying an F-15.”
That explains Joel’s military bearing. I can easily see him in a flight suit. Or in formal, navy-blue dress clothes, his left pec covered in accolades. “It sounds like you owed my father a favor and that favor is me.”
He doesn’t deny it. The snap of his jawline tells me I’m right.
Once again, it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go. Leave. I don’t need a consolation prize. But then I get a better idea. A bad idea, to be sure. But I’m just pissed off and disillusioned enough to engage with it.
My father wants to send his friend to fill in while he bags yet another pilot groupie?
Fine.
But I’m ready to let Phil know he’s hurt me for the last time.
Maybe it’s time to hurt him back…and walk away with my pride.
Guess what, Dad? I’m going to seduce Joel.
Do I have any experience seducing anyone, let alone a man who is easily a decade and a half older than me? Nope. I’ve had a lot of date offers since arriving at the university, but no one has given me butterflies yet. My mother told me to hold out for butterflies.
Joel gives me an almost uncomfortably anxious feeling in my tummy.
He makes me feel tiny and delicate.
There’s a little pulse between my legs that beat faster when he tilted my chin.
A pulse probably isn’t the same thing as butterflies, but that’s agoodthing. After all, I’m not planning on pursuing Joel romantically. I’m going to convince him to take me to bed to get back at my father for abandoning me so many times. This is for me. Anyway, there is no way in hell I willeverbe serious about a pilot. My distrust of men in that profession is way too profound. For excellent reason, I might add. Just another trauma token from Dad.
“Listen up, girls. Families,” says Monica through the bullhorn. Monica is a senior who runs our sorority with an iron fist—and a dazzling smile. “We’re so happy to have you here, parents. Welcome to your daughter’s home away from home. It is our pleasure to have you at the Chi Omega house for thesumptuouswelcome dinner we’re prepared. Enjoy this time catching up with your daughter, before returning to your hotels for some much-needed rest. And I hope you brought your bathing suits, because tomorrow is the pool party! Chicken fight, anyone?”
Her direct laugh into the bullhorn causes it to erupt in feedback.
Joel shudders. Massages the bridge of his nose.
Oh, he’s already miserable and desperate for some relief from the high-strung Chi Omega energy? This seduction should be a piece of cake.
Probably. As soon as I figure out how.
“Pool party,” Joel intones, shaking his head. “I didn’t bring my swimming trunks.”
“Maybe one of the dads brought a spare.” Making sure no one is looking, I take a discreet step closer to Joel and tease the buckle of his belt with experimental fingers. “I’m sure we can find a nice fit.”
His sculpted lips part on an intake of breath. “Excuse me?”
Biting my lip, I smooth my palm over the ridges of his stomach, the muscle definition obvious, even through his button-up dress shirt. “So, what’s the plan? Are we going to pretend I’m your daughter this weekend or are we going to tell people the truth?”
“If you keep touching me like that, lying won’t be an option.” He catches my wrist and holds it away from his body, but I can see the pulse ticking out of control at the base of his corded neck. “A girl doesn’t touch her father like that.”
“No, she doesn’t.” I lift up onto my toes to whisper into his ear, relishing his shock and the waft of spruce, my finger tucking into the front of his waistband and shifting the starchy material side to side. “Maybe I’ll just call you Daddy and really confuse everyone.”
He swallows a groan. “Goddamn it, Haylo, I know what you’re doing.” Before I can guess his intent, he slings an arm around the small of my back, lifts me in a swift movement and reverses our position, so his giant frame is blocking me from everyone. And he leans down to speak near my mouth. “You’re teasing me, hoping it’ll send me running for safety. Too bad I don’t run. I am not leaving you alone. Iwantto be here.”
