Page 30 of Don't Call Me Daddy
Ignoring his rude comment, I pull down the visor mirror and fluff my wavy, teased hair before applying my new bright pink lip gloss I also picked up today. “You know, it’s funny; I’m almost the same age as your family cat. I never went out for my twenty-first birthday, so this is sort of my first big hurrah too.”
“For Christ’s sake, Ivy, please do not repeat that sentence to anyone here tonight.” He scrubs his hand over his face before massaging his temple. “I already feel enough like a creep; let’s not point out the numbers and have everyone doing the math.”
“Oh, come on. Lots of girls my age find older guys hot. There’s no need to feel insecure about it?—”
“I said, drop it, okay?” His words come out clipped and commanding, eliciting the strangest tingle of excitement deep in my belly.
What the hell was that?
I sit up a little straighter, pressing my thighs together, where the evidence of my confusion pools in my panties.
Rolling my eyes, I snap the visor shut. “Fine. I won’t go out of my way to point out our thirteen-year age gap. Anything else, Daddy?”
My body jolts forward for only a moment before the hard barrier of my seat belt snaps me back against my seat when Leo slams on the brakes. My chest heaves for air from the shock, but when I turn to look at Leo, I find him glaring at me. His green eyes are laced with darkness as his jaw clenches so hard that his muscles spasm.
“What was that about? Did you almost hit something?” I ask through panicked heaves as I try to calm my wheezing before it gets any worse.
A moment of silence passes as his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “Donotcall me that again. Ever,” he says with a growl.
My eyes scan his guarded frame as I try to understand his reaction. He’s so rigid and tight, like every muscle in his body is tense and wound in a hard knot. But then I notice the tips of his ears tinted pink and his own heavy breathing.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Leo Kingsley has a sneaky little secret kink, and I just hit the nail on the head.
Oh shit, this is going to be even more fun than I thought.
A small smirk pulls at my lips, but I quickly cover it with my hand before he notices. “Sure thing. Freudian slip, I guess. It won’t happen again.”
I dart my eyes away from him and busy myself with another layer of body glitter, and this time, he doesn’t chastise me, even when I accidentally spill some on the seat.
We finally pull through the iron gates of his family home, if you can even call it that. An ornate Victorian-style home is lit up with cozy twinkling lights as the soft rumble of music vibrates around us. There’s a huge wraparound porch with a basketball hoop just off the side and a large circle driveway, where I suspect the family parks. I can imagine his parents sitting on the front porch, drinking coffee as they watch their gaggle of teenage boys out in the yard, throwing a football or playing a game of basketball together. I don’t have to know Leo’s brothers to know they have to be competitive.
If I were to ever settle down and start a family, I don’t think I could dream of a more perfect picture than this. It’s beautiful, and it feels like home the moment we pull into the drive.
A knot forms in my throat, and I cough to clear it away. What is with these weird bodily reactions today? First, I got aroused by Leo scolding me for dressing too sexy, and now, I’m getting emotional over a house.
Go home, hormones. You’re drunk.
Leo clears his throat, breaking the silence, and I’m thankful to be pulled from my thought spiral.
“You remember the script, right?”
I nod.
“Okay, because there will be a lot of important people here tonight, and if we blow this, then I’m afraid I might be worse off than I was to begin with.” He clears his throat again. “I’m sorry about … back there. I … I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. You’re a beautiful young woman with your whole life ahead of you, but I could see how people could think …” His voice trails off, and I place my hand on his arm to stop him.
“It’s no one’s business anyway.”
My eyes meet his, and I catch a flash of something that looks like hope, but then he looks away.
“Relax. People love me.” I grab his bow tie and straighten it, daring him to look back at me, but he doesn’t.
“I mean it, Ivy. This is important to me. I don’t know what I’d do if all this blew up in my face. Promise me you won’t go rogue, that you’ll stick to the plan.”
I roll my eyes. “I promise to be a very good girl tonight.”
He grumbles something under his breath and walks around to open my door. But I don’t miss the way his heated neck burns brightly under his black collared shirt or the fire burning behind his jade-green eyes when I step out of the car. Leo Kingsley might be the strictest of rule followers, but I think I just made it my newfound mission to push him until he breaks.
You know, for health reasons. All that pent-up stress needs to come out somehow, doesn’t it?
