Page 16 of Daddies Dark Desires (Forbidden Fantasies)
When my muscles in my arm tense, his grip tightens and so does his jaw.
I smile. Small. Smug.
We’re the last ones off.
Heading to a car waiting in front of the building, Grant pulls me in front of him, helping me into the car and following after.
I slide across the buttery leather seats.
I’m so small next to him like this.
With the car door shutting us in, and the dark divider closing in.
Two sets of two seats face each other.
It’s tempting to want to sit opposite him instead of so close.
Warring with eye contact is always my preference.
And he would pay attention to my face if I put the rest of me on display.
He’d already proven as much.
But Grant’s hand comes down on my knee, trapping me in place.
Heat drives up through me. I try not to fidget.
“You’re not my dad, you know.”
Finally, he peers down at me, and I glare at him.
“Yes, I know.”
Fingers dip into the flesh above my knee, and I can’t help but squirm this time.
I squeeze my knees together, trapping his hand there, and lean into his thick arm.
“Oh? Is that right? You mean you don’t want me to call you…Daddy?”
I let the last word come out as a whisper and watch it ripple through him.
His pupils dilate.
His nostrils flare.
Jaw clenches.
Muscles tighten.
Pressing my breasts harder against his arm, my own fingers traipse down his forearm to where he’s gripping my leg.
“And what is it you want to call me? A brat?”
He growls at me.
Low. Almost indistinct.
“Your brat?”
