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With a huff, she tilts her body in the opposite direction, giving me a cold shoulder.

Leaning down, so I’m close to her ear, I whisper, “No, Sofia, I’m not sure I know what you mean, because the guy you think I am decided to fuck off the second he laid eyes on you.”

The skin on her neck prickles with excitement, or anticipation.

“I hope you like chicken parmesan. I made sandwiches with what I had left over from last night’s dinner.”

At the front of the plane, I gather the two sandwiches I made before I left the hotel. It’s a simple, yet delicious meal that I can make on the go, though I’m to cook for her in a real kitchen.

I never thought the hobby that would keep me out of the club scene would be cooking, but something about crafting in the kitchen, the work versus the reward, it was just as pleasurable as a night with someone I didn’t know.

After sitting in silence and nibbling at my meal while watching Fia inhale hers, she finally places the last sliver of mozzarella into her mouth and lets out a satisfying moan that goes straight to my dick.

“Still not big on thank yous, are you?”

Her stunning glare snaps up to my face, repugnance written all over her.

“If you’d let me swallow my damn food, I could’ve told you, but forget it.”

Laughing louder than intended, I settle myself in the seat beside her, spinning the singular chair so that it’s facing directly toward her.

Widening my legs, I jut my hips a little, hoping it’ll cause a flicker in her frozen stare, but her self-control is far better than I’ve given her credit.

“When are you going to give it up?” I smile.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Crossing her arms over her chest, the baggy material contours perfectly around her plump tits.

“This.” I wave between the two of us. “How much longer are you going to pretend to hate me?”

“I’m not pretending,” she clips.

The vein on the side of her neck pulses, and I want to stick my tongue out and lick it.

“If you were serious, I wouldn’t be able to work you up the way I do.”

The toothpick I used to secure the parchment paper on our sandwiches now doubles as a prop as I bite the small wooden stick with the tip of my teeth.

“You don’t work me up; you piss me off.”

I quirk an eyebrow at her. “Same difference.”

Fia’s face turns that beautiful strawberry color, and like the selfish bastard I am, I’m flattered that her flush is only meant for me.

She huffs. “Where is everyone else?”

The words come out hollow, her teeth clinched together without any room for air, like if I give the wrong answer, there’s going to be hell to pay.

Leaning forward, I place my elbows on my knees, making sure my eyes never leave the prize that’s only an arm’s length away.

Whatever her price is, I’ll pay it and then some if that means I get to stay right here with her.

“You’re smart enough to not ask questions you already know the answer to.”

Fia’s jaw ticks, the temperature in here getting hotter by the minute.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asks, voice dimming with suspicion.

“I think you know exactly why I brought you here.”