5. Gage
Gage
F rom Fisher never mentioning a word of his daughter until he asked me to be her bodyguard for tonight, to Michaela’s revelation about how he forgot his daughter’s milestone birthday–– how the hell did he manage that idiotic tour de force?
––to a last name he doesn’t share with Lily, the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. But seeing Lily drove the point home.
Fisher says his attractiveness lies in his wallet.
When it comes to his four sons, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Lily is a peach from an orchard in a different state.
Her pale, luminous, porcelain skin is a contrast to the perma-tanned women I’m used to.
Her hair is as dark as Michaela’s. My fingers itch to fuck up her hair, so neatly pulled back, to find out how long it is. I’m willing to bet she has a curtain of raven-black hair.
All that hair wrapped around my fist…
Fuck.
Her lickable, pouty lips, painted in a pale pink, complement her dress to perfection.
Her subdued makeup brings out her best feature––utterly gorgeous, huge blue eyes.
I’m not sure if it’s the lights from the bar or the shade of her precisely applied eyeshadow, but there’s a purple tinge to them––a mesmerizing color that renders me stupid. The same for her mile long, thick, black lashes that keep sweeping her cheeks each time she blinks.
My response to her was unsettling. Unnerving, even.
Electric tingles ran through my body when we shook hands. My cock wanted to jump out of my pants to say, Welcome to LA , when she stepped into the bar. It’s as if all the blood in my body flowed to my crotch in one sweeping rush.
I wasn’t prepared for Lily Schuyler.
And now, I’m trapped with her in the back of my chauffeured Rolls Royce Phantom.
The exquisite, delicate scent of her perfume permeates the car, making it impossible for me to pretend she isn’t sitting mere inches away from me.
It’s a bewitching combination of flowers, sunshine, and diamonds—if that’s even a thing.
I’m certain long after she leaves the city, the vehicle will still be imbued with her cock-hardening fragrance.
Letting out a breath, I roll a crick out of my stiff neck. I’m no longer certain if the discomfort is from this hellish day or from this woman. Not wanting to take a chance, I lift my eyes to the ceiling, asking God for strength.
It’s my only salvation.
There’s not much space between us in the back seat, but you’d think it was an ocean from the way I’m hugging the passenger door.
It’s my weak attempt to be as far away as humanly possible from this temptress.
It’s as if I fear that physical contact with this woman, would screw up my wires.
That earlier encounter is proof I can’t be trusted around her.
Speaking has never been an issue. Until today.
I blame her.
Her striking beauty left me tongue-tied.
Like a cunning thief, I observe her with a side gaze, as she takes in LA, her nose pressed to the window. Her profile is as stunning as her face. From this angle I can’t help but be mesmerized by the flutter of her long, dark lashes.
My cock was at full mast the moment Lily walked into that bar. After a long stretch of being disinterested in sex, the fucker decides to take a particular interest in a woman that’s forbidden.
She drops her head against the headrest, her gaze still glued to the window.
I shift in my seat, adjusting my hard-on.
Great timing, buddy.
Dammit.
I need to snuff this tug of hot attraction before it gets me in trouble.
Lily Schuyler is Fisher Edgington’s daughter.
He enlisted me as a companion for an event to ward off assholes. Not to be the asshole entertaining improper thoughts about his twenty-one-year-old daughter.
Jesus Christ.
She’s only twenty-one.
By Hollywood and LA standards, eleven years difference is nothing. That should bring me solace, but it doesn’t.
Lily is a walking distraction.
Rein it in, Hollingsworth.
Lily turns her head my way. “It must be something else to have an ocean at your front door. Do you ever get tired of living in LA? ”
“LA isn’t for everyone,” I say. “But I couldn’t see myself living anywhere else.”
She nods.
“Do you ever get tired of living in New York?” I throw her question back at her.
“New York is a new adventure for me.”
I flinch in surprise.
“For the past eight years, I’ve lived in Europe,” she says, “I went to boarding school in Switzerland, followed by a degree at the American University in Paris. I returned stateside not long ago. So, in essence, this is my first time living in New York.”
“You didn’t come back for holidays or to spend time with your family?”
She stares at me for a long beat.
I’m about to retract my question, when she speaks. “I lived with my mom in Alabama until she died a few months before I turned thirteen––”
“I’m sorry––”
“Don’t be, you didn’t know.”
I nod.
“It’s a long––and not particularly cheery––story, but I’ll give you the Cliffs notes. Until my mom died, I didn’t know who my father was. Since I’m the result of an affair, Fisher Edgington kept me hidden in Europe until seven and a half weeks ago.”
Whoa.
A glint of emotion flashes in her eyes, but she recovers with a forced smile. “End of story.”
Her confession drops like a stone in my gut.
Before I can respond, she pulls those beautiful eyes away from me, returning her focus to the window.
An unreasonable desire to shield this woman from threats— even in the form of her own father—washes over me. I might not know the full story, but Fisher is a callous asshole.
A foreign twinge within me makes me want to take her hand into mine and comfort her. Soothe the pain she was trying to disguise. But I don’t. When I shook her hand earlier, the contact was electrifying, a high voltage zapping to my core. Touching her again would be too dangerous.
Silence falls between us for several miles. Her, admiring Los Angeles. Me, computing what she shared, while admiring her heavenly form.
“How close are you to my father?” Her gaze meets mine. “I’m late to the game. I should’ve found that out before landing at LAX. I ask because my father and I aren’t on speaking terms right now?—”
“Michaela told me.”
“You know all my dirty secrets.”
Man, her terse tone does something to me.
I clear my throat. “I doubt that.”
That seems to appease her.
“Not that I want to badmouth your father, but how could he forget your birthday?”
“His eldest son’s political ascension to the White House is top priority in his life.”
I don’t even know what to say to that.
I get that Fisher is all business, all the time, but this is wrong on so many levels.
“I should’ve asked earlier,” she says, looking me up and down, “but what do you do for a living?”
She didn’t look me up?
This isn’t a question I get asked every day.
“I’m StreamTunes’s CEO. I’m also the producer of Jam Sessions and StreamTunes Awards. ”
Those gorgeous big blue eyes are so damn incredible when they go wide.
“I’m a StreamTunes customer.” She points a frantic finger at her chest.
“It’s always a pleasure to meet satisfied customers.”
“Who said I was satisfied?”
Don’t make it sexual.
Don’t make it sexual.
Don’t make it sexual.
And… I make it sexual.
Images of ramming Lily’s sweet pussy flash in front of my eyes.
Oh, honey, I can guarantee you’d be satisfied.
“To answer your earlier question,” I say after a long beat, my voice gravelly, “your father is one of my big advertisers.”
A little wrinkle of alarm knits her brow. “I had no clue. My father prefers to keep me in the dark.”
“My headquarters are located on the fourteenth floor of a glass building on Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood, aka the Sunset Strip. But I have another office in New York. When I work on the East Coast, I meet up with him for lunch, a drink, or dinner when our schedules coordinate. I’ve also met your… ”
“Half-brothers.”
“Yes.” I nod. “Fisher didn’t say much about you when he asked me for the favor.”
“I’m not surprised.” Bitterness coats her words.
“I assume you’re single or else your boyfriend would’ve doubled as your bodyguard.”
“That’s funny.” She scoffs. “Yes, I’m single.”
An unreasonable sense of satisfaction washes over me.
“What about you?” She arches a brow. “Are you single?”
I flash her my left hand. “I’m a certified bachelor.”
“You adhere to the same mentality as my half- brothers––if you’re rich enough to be offered a Black American Express, why settle down?
It’s futile. The divorce from hell that surely will come out of the marriage isn’t worth it.
It’s far less expensive to play the field—plenty of gorgeous, available women who are more than happy with a one-night fling. ”
There’s so much in that statement.
“I’m nothing like your half-brothers.” That comes out a little harsher than intended. “I’m not in a place where I can commit.”
“Got it.”
A long awkward silence passes between us.
“You and my father aren’t close friends?”
“We aren’t.”
“What about my half-brothers?”
“Same.”
From the few times I’ve rubbed shoulders with the Edgington spawn, I wouldn’t willingly hang out with them. The Edgington men are an acquired taste.
She narrows her eyes, considering me whilst licking her bottom lip with a tongue that’s too damn cute. “Gage… can I ask for a favor?”
I swallow. “Sure.”
“Is it possible not to mention my father while I’m here?”
I nod like a puppy. “Your wish is my command.”
I’m rewarded with a smile more brilliant than the California sun.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
Her smile fades and she returns her gaze to the window.
An unfamiliar urge to return her smile to her beautiful face rises up within me.
“You’re staring,” she says and glances my way.
“I didn’t mean to.” Lies.
She huffs and returns to watching the world go by.
And I return to her heavenly form.
By LA standards, Lily’s dress covers a lot.
From the cinched waist to the flared lower part that hits her mid-calf, the silhouette is reminiscent of old Hollywood.
The top part is embellished with a chiffon fabric that drapes over her shoulders for that added touch of femininity.
And the demure neckline reveals her delicate neck.
It’s official. That neck will be featured in my erotic dreams tonight.
I continue my inspection.
Her jewelry is tasteful and eye-catching.
Her large diamond studs catch the light, illuminating her face. She’s wearing a necklace with a statement medallion pendant. It’s an old coin surrounded by brilliant stones.
Who’s the fucker who gave it to her?
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I brush off the thought and the wave of jealousy. I don’t want to creep her out.
I suppress the growl that’s about to leave my chest. I have no reason to be this possessive. She’s a stranger.
My stare must weigh heavy on her, because her eyes find mine again.
“I was worried at the bar that you’d end up being a grunter?—”
“Is that even a word?”
“If it isn’t, it should be, and your photo should be featured right beside it in the search results. After all, a photo is worth a thousand words.” Her lush, kissable lips slant with amusement.
My eyes are glued to them.
I’m overtaken by the urge to fucking own them?—
I’m in trouble.
I grunt.
I guess I am a grunter .
“It’s too late now to put the genie back in the bottle, Mr. Hollingsworth.”
Why the fuck does my last name sound so sexy on her lips?
“You can hold a conversation when you put your mind to it,” she says.
“You know everything there is to know about me now?” My voice comes out hoarse.
“No offense?—”
“Which means you’re about to offend me.”
“You’re not what I expected either.”
I cock an eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”
She shakes her head. “You go first,” she says. “Why did you tell me that at the bar?”
I weigh my words. “I expected you to be the female version of your half-brothers?—”
“Bratty, snooty, spoiled, arrogant, and entitled?”
“That’s a good beginning to the list.”
She laughs.
The timbre of that laugh travels all the way to my balls.
“If you were expecting a prima donna, I’m sorry, but you’ll be thoroughly disappointed.”
That statement right there heightens her attractiveness a millionfold.
“Good to know,” I say. “Now, it’s your turn.”
“I expected you to be like my other chaperones.”
“Other chaperones? I thought this was your first time in LA.”
“It is, but my father has been shopping around colleges.”
She tells me all about the loser chaperones.
“I’m straight, but you’d never catch me in such a compromising situation with a woman,” I say.
“I don’t have children, so you don’t have to worry about me being a perverted old man with incestuous tendencies.
And I’m not even going to touch that last one.
” I shake my head. “The guy wanted to pump his stomach with beans before inviting you to get down and dirty in the hopes of killing you with flatulence? The nerve.”
Lily laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
She places a hand on my arm, as if bracing herself for a second bout of laughter.
The contact is ten times worse than before.
A tremor of awareness reverberates up my arm, traveling at light speed to my cock. For a moment, I can’t concentrate past her touch. The urge to lean in and kiss her is overwhelming.
Scratch that.
The need to claim her mouth is all-consuming.
Fisher’s face flashes in front of my eyes.
I chastise myself and force myself to remember who this woman is, but she’s making it easy to forget she isn’t a woman I can conquer.
Stay the fuck away, Hollingsworth.
Lily Schuyler is untouchable.