Lily
There’s a knock at the door, and I run to it.
When I swing it open, a sexy as fuck man I haven’t seen since yesterday afternoon stares down at me.
Dear God, he’s devastatingly handsome. I take him in. His silky brown hair is mussed—probably from
running his fingers through the strands—and a day’s worth of scruff graces his gorgeous face.
I allow my gaze to roam up and down his tall frame. More suit porn. He’s wearing a gray suit with a
delicate checkered pattern, paired with a pale pink shirt, sans tie, with the first couple buttons undone.
I approve. He st eps into the hotel suite and closes the door behind him, causing notes of his expensive
cologne to linger in the air. I’m tempted to lean into him and give him a sniff, but I resist. Barely.
“Ke ep looking at me like that, and we won’t make it to the Quintus Hotel without me fucking you against
every wall of this suite.”
I wouldn’t mind making up for lost time. I cock an eyebrow and tap a finger against my chin. “Hmmm...
Decisions, decisions.”
“You little tease.” I tilt my head back and laugh. “You think that’s funny?” “What can I say?” I place a
hand on his chest. “It’s your fault for being such a great lover.”
He laces his arm around my waist and pulls me to him, those green eyes hot and intense.
He leans into me. The pressure of his hard cock causes my pussy to tingle. Damn, I want him so bad. He
grazes his lips with mine, our eyelashes practically meshing together. “Flattery will get you thoroughly
fucked.”
I incline my chin, and his mouth is on mine. God, I missed him. The kiss is demanding, fervent, wet, and
blazing. I don’t want to give my kisses to any other man on the planet. Gage Hollingsworth you’ve ruined
it for all others. Forever more, my life is now divided into two episodes—before Gage Hollingsworth’s
mouth and after.
I groan as he sinks his tongue de eper into my mouth, our tongues dancing at a sensuous pace.
How will I live without this man’s beautiful mouth on mine every single day of the week?
I’m not looking forward to finding out. I pull away from him, almost out of breath. “Let’s forget about
dinner.” He shakes his head. “No can do, buttercup.” “Can’t we push the reservation to later?” “Nope.” I
sigh. “Okay.” “Don’t look so disappointed.” “It’s my last night in LA...” It went by so fast. Too fast. It
doesn’t help I lost a few days with him earlier this week when he thought things were developing too
quickly between us, and yesterday again, because he spent the evening with Enid.
Damn you, Enid. “I intend to make the most of it,” he says. “Food first. Followed by a nocturnal drive up
Mulholland Drive since we haven’t ventured there yet. After a little sightseeing, we’ll come back here,
and I’ll fuck you until you lose consciousness or until you have to make it to the airport tomorrow. Which
ever happens first. Does that work for you?”
I giggle. “I can live with that.” “Good.” He gives me a onceover. “You wore the dress.” Gage texted
earlier with his fashion request, and I lost my mind laughing.
Gage: I want you to wear that pretty dress that caused me to lose the ability to speak, leaving me no other
choice but to grunt to communicate.
“I was too happy to fulfill your wish, Mr. Hollingsworth,” I say in a coquettish way, from under my
fluttering lashes.
He traces a languorous finger from one bare shoulder to the other. “You’re more than a wish in that dress.
You’re my fucking fantasy come true.”
I beam. “I’ll always associate pink with the first time we met.” “Is that why you picked this shirt?” I
smooth down the cotton fabric. “Yes.” I flash him a goofy smile. “From now on, when I wear this dress,
I’ll think of you.”
“You can’t wear this dress anymore.” “Why not?” “Because I don’t want another man to see how
beautiful you are in it.” “So, you expect me to leave it hanging in my wardrobe?” “Pretty much.” I expect
him to tell me he’s joking, but his expression suggests he’s dead serious.
“Oh, you’re not kidding.” “I’m as serious as a heart attack.” My heart performs the most perilous and
challenging gymnastics performance ever.
“You can only pull it out when I’m in New York,” he says. “You’re going to come and see me in New
York?” “Damn right.” I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Don’t you want to see me?” Is that a tinge of
insecurity in his voice? “Yes.” I smile wide. “I’d like that.”
“It’s settled.” Does this mean we’re dating? I want to ask the question, but I’m not that courageous. “What
about tonight? There will be men at the restaurant.”
“I don’t give a damn because you’re wearing the dress for me.” Breathe, Lily. Breathe. His phone rings.
He fishes for it in the pocket of his suit jacket. The conversation with whomever called is brief. He ends
the call. “We should hit the road.” “Let me grab my clutch.” I’m about to run to the bedroom, but he grabs
my wrist. “What color panties are you wearing?”
“Err... soft pink.” “Hand them over.” My eyes widen in shock. “My panties?” He extends a hand, his
palm facing up. “Yes, your panties.” “You want me to remove my panties?” “Unless there’s another way
for them to land in the palm of my hand, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”
“Do you want me to wear another color of panties?” “I want you to go commando.” My head jerks back.
“Your pretty little pussy is mine for the evening, Lily. By going commando, you open yourself up to
possibilities. Who knows? I might have the urge to eat you out in the car before we walk into the
restaurant.”