Lily Iwent into this with my eyes wide open and k ept my expectations low. One night––and morning––of toe-curling pleasure would’ve sufficed. I’m so giddy with happiness Gage would want to spend the day with me, I’m floating. Since Jean-Philippe was leading a double life, he k ept our outings to restaurants in the area where I lived in Paris, never venturing too far. It’s only when I found out he had a wife, it all made sense. The Frenchman k ept me as his dirty little secret. Being seen with a man is a new experience for me. I might’ve only gotten my V card punched yesterday, but I’m not delusional. My drop-dead gorgeous bodyguard turned lover is a magician capable of turning my pussy into a waterfall, but the writing is on the wall. I’m passing through town. My father is one of his big advertisers. And Gage Hollingsworth is a certified bachelor. So that settles that. I didn’t even want to come to LA, and I was dreading spending time with one of my father’s connections. But something tells me it’s going to be impossible to forget Gage. I sigh. A strong hand closing over my thigh forces me out of my rumination. “Earth to Lily.” My eyes fly up to meet Gage’s. “Where were you? I was talking, and the music is playing in the background. Still, you were a continent away.” “Sorry if I didn’t hear what you said. I was sw ept away by the breathtaking scenery.” It’s a partial lie. “Photos and videos of the City of Angels don’t do it justice. This is the polar opposite to New York’s concrete jungle.” He shoots me a dubious gaze. I respond with an innocent smile. Gage has been playing the role of tour guide, pointing out landmarks and providing me with Travelocity-worthy facts as we drive around LA. I
was a captive audience until we stopped at a traffic light and my eyes landed on a young couple waiting on the sidewalk, kissing with passion. Instantly, I was transported to last night. From there, my overactive mind unraveled. “If there’s something else you’d rather do, say the word.” “You mean something other than driving in a pricey navy-blue Wiesmann GT MF4—a sports car I had never heard of until I climbed into it—with the top down, on a spectacular and sunny day, zooming towards the Malibu coast with the most attractive chaperone I’ve ever had?” I shake my head. “Nah. This is good.” “I’ve been demoted to chaperone?” “Chaperone. Bodyguard.” I shrug “Same thing.” He swings those mesmerizing wintergreen eyes my way, an eyebrow cocked. “I’ve been demoted after I made you come your head off in the shower? If you need me to pull over right this minute so I can remind you I’m far more than a chaperone or bodyguard, I’m happy to oblige.” Shower sex when the guy is standing up and he’s lifting you in his arms is so damn hot. Another feather in Gage’s sexy cap and another reason for my euphoric Saturday morning. A wave of lust swe eps through me, causing my nipples to pebble and goosebumps to raise on my arms. Down, girl. I just discovered sex, and now I can’t live without it? My face bursts into flames. What’s wrong with me? “Your cheeks are flushing.” Busted. “That’s a little caveman-ish.” My voice is weak. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it.” In what parallel universe did I think I was a match for this man? He has enough balls––literally and figuratively––to do it, too. Best not to start something I can’t finish. I ke ep quiet not to worsen my case. A few orgasms, and I’m Superwoman. “If you can’t take it, don’t dish it out,” he says. “Noted.” I nod. Gage shifts his attention to the road. I pull my oversized designer sunglasses over my eyes and lose myself in the scenery. Driving in LA is an indescribable experience. We left the bumper-to-bumper traffic behind, and now it’s ride, baby ride. As the road leading to Malibu unfolds underneath the wheels of Gage’s speeding bullet, I take it all in. Each time I blink, it’s as if I’m trying to capture a snapshot of the city. If I come back to study in LA, it’ll never be the same. It’s never as good as the first time. I fight off a smile at the double entendre. I pull out my phone to take photos and videos for Nadine. Save for the horrendous traffic and a few other nightmarish things typical of megacities, I can see why people think this place is Paradise. Sun, sea, surf, sexy people, and the chance of spotting celebrities––unless you’re partying with them at a private affair in a swanky club. My eyes bounce to the majestic peaks. I was expecting to see the Pacific Ocean, but I didn’t expect to see mountains. A group of men saddled on motorcycles that look like they belong to another era zoom by. Some are alone, others have a woman clinging to their back. Wicked. Does Gage own a motorcycle? Not that it matters. I’m way too much of a chicken to ride on the back of a motorcycle. I prefer to be encased in steel when I’m on the road. I tap my foot and bob my head to the tune playing. Catchy. This is the perfect day. There are plenty of sunny days in New York during the sweltering summers, but the sky is never this bright. As my eyes stretch to the horizon, I spot a group of surfers riding a wave. So cool. California sure is beautiful. Unable to help myself, I steal a glance at another beautiful view. Long gone is the morning stubble. He’s clean shaven and hot as ever. While I was getting ready, Gage
drove back to his place for a change of clothes. He traded what he was wearing yesterday for another casual yet smoking hot outfit––black jeans that mold his muscular thighs to perfection and a blue shirt with a purple undertone that makes his green eyes even more seductive. Not that I know how that’s even possible. My suitcase is still a no-show. At this point, I’m certain it traveled to Australia. Thank God, I had something suitable for our outing. I opted for a cobalt-blue midi skirt and a white flowy sleeveless top with a sexy V-neck. When it comes to footwear, Gage and I match. I went with a pair of silver Converse I bought during my shopping spree. He’s rocking a pair of cool high top custom designed ones. He catches me ogling. “You like what you see, princess?” Yes. I. Do. I don’t have a chance to incriminate myself. The song changes to one of my favorites. Excitement courses through my body. Before I can catch myself, my hands are over my head. I wiggle in my seat as I sing along. I’m no songstress, but fuck if that stops me from going for it. Gage’s head jerks back at my impromptu show. I move my upper body as if auditioning to be part of a video. I don’t hold back. I belt the lyrics to the bridge of Ultra Nate’s song Free. Gage blinks. I guess this is a d eparture from the quiet woman he met yesterday. I’ve worn shackles my whole life. This is the freest I’ve ever felt. I’m going to blame the California sun––and the man sitting next to me––for yanking me out of my shell. After a pit stop at O’Dwyer’s Fine Ice Creams, we were back in Gage’s Bond car, armed with a cooler bag filled with ice packs and pints of ice cream. I was dying for a scoop for the road, but my travel companion suggested I wait. He promised the perfect spot to enjoy our creamy desserts. I took the bait. I didn’t expect a rest stop along the Pacific Coast Highway to Malibu, but that’s where we are. He cuts the engine. He unfastens his seatbelt, shifts in his seat, and pulls his leg up so his body is facing me. I mimic him. He pushes his sunglasses over his head. There’s nothing obstructing his handsome face. Yesterday, his face was all granite. Gone are the sexy lips pressed in a grim line. Although, he isn’t grinning ear to ear, the hint of softness is so attractive on him. He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. I had it in a pulled back style, similar to what I had it at Rhys’s party, but when Gage came back to get me, he insisted I wear it out. I’m obsessed about having it perfectly straight, but he loves the wave. Since I’m only wearing a touch of makeup, he says it adds to the fresh-faced look. “I thought we’d enjoy this sunny day and some lunch before heading to Malibu,” he says. “You grabbed lunch on your way back to the hotel?” He shakes his head. “I grabbed lunch at the hotel.” I furrow my brows. “It’s in the trunk,” he says. “You’re okay with that?” “I am.” “Let me come around.” He gets out of the car. I sit pretty. He opens the passenger door and extends a hand. I take it. A thrill runs through me at the contact. It’s different from the five thousand volts of electricity that zapped through me when I shook his hand the first time we met, but it’s still unsettling. He helps me out of the car, and we walk to the trunk. He aims the key fob at the vehicle. We watch as the hood of the car retracts. He points the little device towards the trunk. It pops open, revealing a feast. Wow. The scrumptious spread makes my mouth water. Same for the aroma. My surprised eyes fly up. “When did you have time to pick this up?” “I grabbed the blankets from home,” he says. “As for the food,
Michaela suggested I place an order for the Pompadour Hotel’s gourmet picnic basket with a few extra trimmings. Twenty-four-hour notice is appreciated, but the CEO and owner’s wife connected me to the right person.” He winks. “You texted her?” “I did,” he says. “It’s easier to go straight to the top. Also, she was happy to hear from me. I reassured her that I didn’t fuck you to the point where you couldn’t walk anymore. She appreciated the heads up.” I gasp, my hand landing on my chest. “Please tell me you didn’t tell her that.” “I didn’t go into that much detail, but I told her you were mine for the day. She was glad I didn’t scare you so much, you ran out of town.” Something tugs at my heart. “I assume that’s what it’s like to have a big sister.” “She warned me she was protective of you, so yeah, she’s taken on the role.” I don’t know what to make of his admission. It’s like being enveloped in a warm fuzzy blanket. Michaela and Gage care more about me than my own father and half-brothers. Sigh. “I’m touched,” I say. “Both by her concern and your gesture.” Gage taps the tip of my nose. “It’s only food.” But it’s so much more than that. It’s the attention. It’s the care. It’s a small gesture that means the most. He makes me feel like I matter. My stomach grumbles. “Good thing I brought lunch,” Gage says. Never mind the breakfast of champions I wolfed down. I’m starved. Embarrassed, I place a hand on my tummy. “My body is getting used to...” “Being sexed up?” I blush. “I guess.” “That’s why I planned ahead,” he says. “I can’t ke ep you all day and not feed you.” You can ke ep me forever. “Fair warning. Make sure you eat enough... you’ll need the energy for later.” I blink up at him. The promise in that statement causes my pussy to flutter. “I wouldn’t want you not to have the stamina to sustain the half dozen orgasms I have planned for you when we get back to the Pompadour.” ... And I’m wet. That chocolatey voice and those dirty words could make a girl lose her head. “It’s your first time discovering LA,” he says. “I was picky in my food selection because I wanted to make sure this day was memorable. I didn’t want anything to taint the experience. You’re used to the best––aka the exquisite cuisine at the Pompadour Hotel. I didn’t want to shock your taste buds with a menu that didn’t measure up.” Is this guy for real? Dear God, Mr. Grumpy Pants—this big, beautiful man—has a heart of gold. Another wave of attraction swe eps through me so strong, I want to press the back of my hand against my forehead to check if I don’t have a fever. But I catch myself in time and shake it off. Reality check, Lily. No matter how smoking hot the man is, no matter the palpable energy between us, no matter how much he turns me on, and no matter how many orgasms he gives me, our time together is measured in days. Not weeks. Not months. When the clock runs out, I’m going back to the Big Apple. I do my best to ke ep a neutral expression, so he doesn’t know how much this affects me. “That’s so thoughtful of you.” “Anything less would be a crime.” I’m in serious danger of swooning like a silly teenager. I would never have protested stopping at a random eatery in the city for a quick bite, but the fact he put so much thought
into it, warms my heart. Ke ep your feet firmly on the ground, Lily. I beckon him with a crooked finger. He obliges. He’s so tall, he has to dip his chin to meet my gaze. Mesmerizing wintergreen eyes stare at me with such intensity, my body flushes with heat. I have to shake my head to break from the spell. “Between you and me”––I wave a finger between us––“I must admit that after only a few days, I’m addicted. So much so, I’m considering chaining myself to the pipes in the kitchen so I never have to leave the Pompadour.” “If we’re sharing secrets...”––his eyes shift left to right before settling on me––“I’ve tried––and failed––to hire Phoenix’s chefs from underneath him. Numerous times.” “I would’ve done the same.” I play along, matching his faux-seriousness. He winks. “Let’s go find a spot so we can feed you.” He pulls the bags and picnic baskets from the trunk. “Don’t forget the ice cream.” “That’s unlikely to happen.” I grab the bag from the back seat. “I can’t wait to de ep-dive, headfirst.” He chuckles. We aren’t the only ones out today. The picnic tables are occupied with a heap of people enjoying a perfect Saturday under the California sun. “Do you mind sitting on the ground, Lily?” “Someone came pr epared with blankets. So, no, I don’t mind.” “You woke up on the sassy side of the bed.” “I remember waking up with something poking at my back.” He narrows his eyes in warning. We find a free spot and drop everything to the ground. In no time, Gage has the blankets and the food spread out. He invites me to take a seat. I lower myself to the blanket, fold my legs underneath me, and drop my new adorable mini blue leather Louis Vuitton bag to the side. It’s part of the list of things I was forced to buy because of the situation with my luggage. With my hands free, I fan my midi skirt around me. Gage sits cross-legged on the gray checkered blanket. His long legs resemble a giant pretzel. He pushes his designer shades over his head. Oh hell, those eyes. Under the bright sun, they’re almost translucent. He winks. Stop ogling at him. The man will end up with an inflated ego. He shifts his attention, rummaging through the picnic basket. “We have three sandwich selections.” “Which ones?” “Roast beef with caramelized onions and arugula cheese, chicken salad with homemade mayo and walnuts served on black olive rye bread, and fancy muffaletta.” “What’s that last one? It sounds Italian.” “It is,” he says. “It’s two slices of focaccia bread slathered with a tangy olive spread and layered with mortadella, uncured salami, uncured ham, and pro volone.” My stomach grumbles again. “It’s settled. The fancy muffaletta for the lady.” “Sorry, but that sounded delicious.” “I agree. That’s why I grabbed three.” I frown. “One for you, and two for me.” He shrugs. “I’m a big boy.” “Don’t I know it.” “You weren’t complaining last night or this morning.” Damn, he always one-ups me. He hands me a lunchbox, containing my sandwich, a small portion of vegetable sticks, and a favorite from last night I couldn’t get enough of. I meet his gaze. “Coleslaw?” “You went on and on about it, so I made a special request. It’s part of their midnight menu, but again, that’s where knowing the owner pays off.”
I flash him a warm smile. “Thank you.” I’m overwhelmed. “Don’t mention it.” Does he treat all his hookups this way? Nonetheless, I’m touched. He lifts his half sandwich. I do the same. He taps his sandwich against mine. I laugh. “I didn’t even know that was a thing.” “Stick with me, kiddo, and I’ll be sure to cross many firsts off your list while you’re here.” You’re doing a bang-up job of it. I bite into my sandwich, and moan. Sweet baby Jesus. The medley of flavors hits my taste buds. Heaven in my mouth. “This is ridiculous,” I say around a bite, pointing at the sandwich. Gage takes a bite of his. He nods while chewing. “You’re right. This is delicious.” “I swear to God, I’m never going back to New York,” I say. “I don’t understand how Michaela isn’t the size of a baby el ephant.” Gage chuckles. “I mean, seriously. She has access to these culinary delights anytime she’s at the hotel, which means five times a week she’s exposed to endless temptations. I don’t know how she does it. The woman has some serious willpower. I’m not that strong. I’d crack under the pressure.” I let out a suffering sigh. “My name is Lily Schuyler and I’m a glutton for great food.” He offers a genuine smile that lights up his face. It’s so rare, and I cherish the gift. I respond with a small smile. We stare at each other for a long beat. I’m the first to break eye contact. If I don’t, I’ll melt––and not because of the heat. For the next several minutes, we devour our sandwiches in silence. Gage’s eyes are on me. The unabashed yearning I read in them is unsettling. I do my best to hold his gaze, but I waver a few times. When I’m courageous enough to stare right back, the intensity emanating from his eyes is dizzying. It makes me feel like I’m the center of his universe. As usual, my eyes are bigger than my stomach. It’s because Gage is too distracting. I can only finish half of my sandwich. Gage on the other hand is blazing right through the food. After finishing two muffaletta sandwiches, his attention moves to the roast beef one. “Do you want a bite?” “Sure.” I offer my plate. “Unh-uh. I want you to crawl on your hands and knees.” My eyes widen. “Crawl?” “Yes.” “Is this a joke?” “Do I look like I’m joking?” Nope. Your face is dead serious. “You want a bite or not?” This has nothing to do with the food. “Um...” My gaze shifts left to right. People are minding their own business. What to do? What to do? I drop my plate to the side, get on my hands and knees, making sure my skirt isn’t in the way, before crawling to him. “That’s it.” His eyes flash with something raw. Primal, even. “Crawl to daddy.” Those three little words spoken in his de ep voice are so fucking hot. This guy doesn’t hold back. Forget about a hint of sensual teasing, he’s dosing me with hedonism. And fuck do I crave it. Although I’m submitting to his command, I feel so powerful. I sit back on my haunches next to him. “You submit beautifully,” he says. “Now, open wide.” I do as I’m told. He feeds me, his eyes bouncing from my gaze to my mouth. Holy hell. This is hot. Scratch that. This is five-alarm scorching hot. We’re both dressed and we’re in public, but this feels as intimate as when he was rubbing his cock against my clit this morning. Coming to LA was about scouting film schools. I didn’t expect I’d end up with a Ph D in naughtiness. Talk about a crash course.
Gage Hollingsworth has a dirty mind and a penchant for debauchery. Why is this such a turn on? As I close my mouth around a bite, some of the melted cheese sticks to my chin. I’m about to scoop it up with my finger before it lands on my clothing, when he stops me. He leans into me and licks it off with his tongue. Oh. My. Freaking. God. My panties are drenched. I’m certain the wet spot between my legs is visible. “You come across as all innocent, but de ep down inside, there’s an exhibitionist dying to come out and play.” My head jerks back at his bold statement. “I’m not an exhibitionist.” “Do you think no one noticed you crawling to me?” “Um...” “Don’t pretend that didn’t cross your mind.” Maybe. “My point exactly,” he says. “If you were waiting for someone to corrupt you. Congratulations. You found him.” I open my mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. With my crotch dripping wet and my legs wobbling from the onslaught of lust coursing through my body, I can only stare, dumbfounded. “Sit closer.” He taps the spot next to him. Like an obedient girl, I do as I’m told. “You sure you don’t want anything else to eat?” I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m leaving room for dessert.” “You can eat your ice cream if you want.” “I’ll wait for you.” He takes a bite of the sandwich, and winks. My heart pitter patters. How can a wink turn me to mush? He polishes off half a sandwich in no time. “Ultra Nate’s Free?” he says, circling back to the song that made me lose my mind earlier. “That’s considered old school house music. True, house music will never die. Still, I didn’t expect that from you.” “I create a playlist before any new adventure. That way, certain songs will always be linked to the memories of that trip. This new-to-me song is part of my California Love playlist.” “What else is on your playlist? I rattle off a list of songs––a mixture of styles throughout different decades. “Oh, and a cool remix of Ain’t Nobody.” “You should listen to the original song by Chaka Khan. Given what I do for a living, I’m all for a kickass remix. That said, sometimes, you have to go straight to the source.” “I’ll add it to the list.” “Going back to Free and your reaction to the song, if you were free to do what you want to do, what would it be?” The lyrics of the song are an anthem. I guess that’s why it became an instant favorite. “If a fairy godmother granted me a wish, a spot in a prestigious film school wouldn’t be my first choice.” “What would it be?” “This.” His brows crash over his nose.