Page 18 of My Ex’s Dad

I furrow my brow at him. “That’s not your decision to make.”

He doesn’t react to my sass. Instead, he smiles smugly. “Fine. Let’s say it’s not my decision to make.”

Huh. That was easy…

“This time,” he adds as he sighs and holds me close.

I’m melting against him, but I can’t stay.

“It’s fate.”

I scowl at him.

I am not fated to be with anyone from his family, dammit. I am embracing the beauty and novelty in saying what I want and who I want in my life. Catching Roman cheating demonstrated how slow I’ve been to see the need for this independence.

“You’re snowed in,” he says dryly, clued in to how uncooperative I’m being as I wriggle to get free. “So you’re staying, Liliana.” He surprises me with a tender touch as he tucks my hair behind my ear then cups my face to stare deeply into my eyes. “You’re snowed in with me for at least another day.”

Damn. It.

I press my lips together and exhale through my nose. The triumph in his expression annoys me. “I should’ve realized you’re the boss with your attitude.”

A smirk crosses over his face and I debate how to share what else I’ve realized about him.

8

ANTON

Idon’t know everything there is to learn about Liliana. I only met her last night, and ever since Viktor brought her in shivering and cold after she crashed into my parked car out front, I’ve treated myself to exploring her delectable body and finding all the ways to pleasure her.

I lack the time and energy to get to know everything about her. That’s just how my hectic life is as a workaholic.

But I do know this.

She’s consistently eager to get away.

At first it came across as a sweet need to avoid being a bother. It’s endearing, this reflexive instinct to stay independent and not expect me to clean up her mess.

Now, holding her close and wondering why she’s so desperate to sneak out of my bed, I can’t help my curiosity about her flightiness. I’m too used to people overstaying their welcome and testing the limits of my patience. Liliana’s eagerness to slip away has caught my interest.

Before I can ask why she’s so determined to get away, I fight off the thoughts that she could have something—or someone—to get back to. Once more, I hate the idea of another man having the right to claim her. It’s possessive as fuck. It’s twisted, considering I’ve only just met her and knowing full well my busy life leaves no room for a girlfriend or a lover.

Her stomach growls, and she cringes, cheeks going pink. “Sorry.”

I scowl. “What the fuck for?”

She lifts her brows and parts her lips, searching for an answer.

“Why are you sorry that you’re hungry?” I ask, dismissing the multitude of other questions I have for her, like why she feels the need to get away from me. Sure, I’m bossy and demanding, but last night, she showed how much she liked my guidance.

“I’m…not,” she admits sheepishly.

“Then why are you acting like you’re doing something wrong?” Annoyed that I never fed her last night, and set on making up for it now, I hold her close and sit up, pulling her with me until she’s seated on my lap. A reminder that she’s not going anywhere. Not yet. Not until I say so.

That blush is still there, making her even sexier. It’s not an act. She’s not faking some kind of doe-eyed innocence to manipulate me. I can tell.

“You’re hungry. So am I.” I kiss her deeply, as a reminder that I’m hungry for her, too. “That’s part of being human.”

She sighs, leaning into me. “I know. It’s just that, um, my ex used to give me a hard time when my stomach would growl.”