Page 23 of Watch Me, Daddy

Once again, he took my hand in his, and my heart skipped a beat.

“Keep the cold pack against your cheek,” he said gruffly, and I nodded.

The engine’s rumble resonated through me as we waited for the garage door to lift. Before long, we pulled out of the garage and drove away from the townhome I’d probably never see again.

The drive took us through the heart of Boston, the city lights painting fleeting patterns on the windows as we navigated the bustling streets. Soon enough, the city gave way to the expanse of the countryside, and in another few minutes, we approached what appeared to be a private airport. The car pulled up right in front of the entrance, and Aidan climbed out, letting go of my hand just long enough for me to follow.

The cold pack wasn’t cold anymore, so I left it behind. He’d been right, though. Icing it had taken the pulsing ache away.

There was no security to bother with. Aidan simply led me through the small, luxurious terminal to the back, where there was a private plane waiting for us, the engine already rumbling and ready. Aidan led me up the stairs and on board in no time at all.

I’d been on private jets before, but this one was well above the rest.

An aura of opulence enveloped every corner. Deep, rich leather couches sprawled invitingly, eclipsing the comfort of standard coach seats or even the indulgence of first-class. The caress of wood grain greeted my fingertips, each surface meticulously stained and gleaming with a newfound luster. At the plane’s rear, an impressive fully stocked bar awaited.

I even saw a few bottles of Russian vodka. Had he put those there for me?

I slid into one of the seats and moved to buckle my seatbelt, but Aidan knocked my hands away and did it for me. I gave him a disgruntled look, but he ignored it.

I wanted to hate it, but my clit throbbed so hard that I almost pitched forward. Just in time, though, I managed to get ahold of myself as I pressed my sweaty palms against my thighs. Aidan smirked as if he could read my mind, but I ignored him and rolled my eyes.

For a moment, he stilled, and I held my breath, wondering what was going to happen next.

As if he’d remembered himself, he shook it off and took the seat opposite me. The plane’s engine reverberated a bit louder, and then it started to move. As the jet taxied down the runway and lifted off the ground, I held my breath.

Flying always made me a little nervous, but I wasn’t going to tell Aidan that.

I watched through the window as the lights of Boston grew smaller, the city fading into the distance. Below, the cityscape gave way to green countryside, and I sighed, resting my forehead against the wall of the plane.

The flight only took about an hour, but I spent much of it in my own head. Aidan had gone quiet again, his expression forever a mask of mystery.

I didn’t understand him.

When we finally reached our destination, the plane landed smoothly. I moved to unbuckle my seat belt, but Aidan was already standing up to do it for me. I twisted my mouth in frustration.

I didn’t need to be treated like a little kid.

“I can do it myself,” I retorted. His dark glare lifted towards mine, and I stared back at him with as much malice as I could muster.

Infuriatingly, he ignored it, but I saw that flash of dark promise in the depths of his gaze once again.

What did that mean?

I stood up and he followed me out of the plane. A subtle awareness skittered along the nape of my neck, a tingling sensation that left me keenly aware of his eyes on me. My skin prickled under the weight of his gaze, every inch of me seemingly laid bare beneath his scrutiny. With each step I took, I could feel him.

There was a private car waiting for us on the tarmac. This time, I opened the door myself, not waiting for Aidan to do it for me. I slid inside with a huff and crossed my arms over my chest.

Aidan sat down beside me, but I didn’t move closer, nor did he reach out to take my hand. Thankfully, the drive to the lake house cabin was blissfully short, and I looked out the window to see what my new prison would look like.

I’m sorry—that’s not a cabin. That’s a fucking mansion.

The exterior exuded an air of elegance, its architecture blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. Ivy vines clung to the stone walls, adding a touch of whimsy to the already enchanting scene. Delicate roses intertwined with cheerful daisies and vivid blue hydrangeas, making the flowerbeds burst with vibrant colors.

When the car pulled to a stop, I climbed out and strode towards the front door, not waiting for Aidan this time. The sound of gravel crunched beneath my shoes, and when I paused and listened closely, I could hear the soothing lull of the lake’s gentle waves.

It’s a pretty nice prison, at least…

When I found the door unlocked, I stepped inside. A grand foyer welcomed me, its high ceiling adorned with an intricately opulent crystal chandelier that cast soft light across the polished marble floors. The expansive windows that lined the walls revealed an unobstructed view of the lake’s sparkling expanse.

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