Page 11 of His to Cherish (Club Wyld #5)

LILLY

I feel like I’m going out of my mind. All of my normal Saturday afternoon activities have been abandoned.

The household chores I normally like to get out of the way before Sunday remain untouched today.

I haven’t checked any of the basketball scores or picked up the book I’m reading.

Instead, I’ve been pacing around my house and the postage stamp sized back yard ever since I woke up this morning and my brain is still spinning, going over and over everything that happened last night.

I hadn’t been expecting to sleep. I figured I’d be up all night reliving the evening’s revelations. To my surprise, I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. I guess that’s what a good orgasm will do to you.

I bring a throw pillow up to my face and let out a cry of frustration. Good doesn’t begin to cover the orgasm I had last night. My nerve endings are still on high alert from it—I swear, I shiver every time I remember the sound of Oliver’s voice last night as he brought me to the brink.

Not Oliver, a little voice in my head whispers. Daddy.

I groan, tossing the pillow aside.

For the first time, I’m starting to regret the fact that I don’t have a very close girlfriend.

I have friends, of course. People from work.

College classmates I keep in touch with.

They’re the kind of friends that I can go shopping with, or hang out in a group in a bar.

The kind of friends who would invite me to their wedding—but never ask me to be a bridesmaid.

And they’re definitely not the kind of friends I would discuss my experiences at a freaking sex club with.

I just don’t have a female best friend. I haven’t needed one—Oliver filled the best friend role more than adequately. He was always the person I knew I could count on, the person I could confide anything to.

Anything except for the fact that I’ve been completely head over heels for him for years.

And he felt the same way, a giddy little voice in my head squeals. Oliver is actually attracted to me. More than attracted. And if I’m to believe half the things he said last night, he has been for a long time.

Every time I think of that, I want to jump around like a crazy person.

Oliver likes me. The hottest, most caring, most amazing man I know likes me.

Even though I’m nothing like the tall thin model types he usually dates.

He’s attracted to me. And last night he made me come harder than I ever have in my life. It’s unbelievable.

He also showed me around a sex club and told me that he wanted to be my Daddy.

I groan, plopping down onto the couch. This has been the direction of my thoughts all day. Sheer giddy excitement followed by the overwhelming reality of everything else that happened.

My best friend is a kinky, kinky man. He likes things that I never gave any thought to. The BDSM stuff would have been shocking enough on its own. But the rest? Never in my life did I imagine I’d be saying those dirty things in a sexual context.

But I can’t deny the fact that I liked it.

A lot. I liked saying every filthy word Oliver drew from me last night.

The words he gave me back made me wetter than I’ve ever been.

There was something about Oliver calling me a good girl that made me want to burst into flames.

Even remembering it right now has my heart rate picking up, my skin feeling distinctly hotter.

Is it just Oliver? Is he the reason this all seems so deliciously dirty and exciting to me?

The fact that I’ve wanted him for so long?

Sexual tension, he had called it. Would I feel the same way if he ever took me back to that room in the club?

Or would I be over it now that I had him out of my system?

A laugh rises up in me at the thought. As if I could ever have Oliver out of my system.

Then I realize I’m sitting alone in my living room laughing like a crazy person and I jump up from the couch.

I’ve had enough of this, all the wondering and questions.

I appreciate what Oliver was trying to do, giving me space to think and be sure, but this isn’t working.

I grab my cell from the table and press his contact—the first on my list of favorites.

“Hey,” he says, picking up almost immediately. His low, raspy voice sends goosebumps up and down my arms. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to hear that voice again without remembering it whispering dirty things in my ear. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” I say, my frustration rising. “It’s not okay.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, immediately on alert. “What happened?”

“What happened is I’m going out of my mind,” I snap. “I get why you thought I should have space but?—”

“Lilly,” he cuts in, chuckling softly. “Look out your front window.”

I peek around the lacy curtain and gasp when I see his Jag pulling into the driveway. “You’re here?”

“I’m here,” he agrees. “Unlock the door for me.”

“It’s unlocked.”

He growls. “We’re going to have a talk about that.”

A shiver runs down my spine. It’s not the first time he’s said something like that to me. Oliver has always been overprotective of me, always looked out for me since we first started hanging out. The context feels different, now, after everything we did last night.

I end the call when I hear his car door slam, panic suddenly rushing through me at what I must look like.

I didn’t bother changing out of my leggings and tank top this morning.

I didn’t even shower. My hair is a mess pulled up on the top of my head.

Luckily, I washed my face last night, but I have zero makeup on.

And he’s seen you looking exactly like this on numerous occasions, I remind myself. I rarely dress up, and certainly not for afternoons hanging around the house with Ollie. But it all feels different, now, and I wish I would have put a little effort into my appearance today.

There’s no time to do anything about it, though, because a moment later the front door opens and Ollie is standing there, looking mouthwatering in jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. The man can wear the hell out of a suit, as last night proved, but he also does casual very well.

“Hey,” I squeak, feeling my face flush with heat. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He rubs a hand through his hair, still standing in the doorway. His eyes are locked on me, but he makes no move in my direction and my nerves inch up another notch. “What brings you to this neighborhood?”

“You,” he says simply. “I wanted to see you.”

And there go the stomach butterflies. I can’t help but shoot him a shy smile. “Really?”

He laughs, finally closing the door and crossing the room to me. He takes me in his arms and I snuggle into my spot, the perfect place below his collarbone that I claimed for myself years ago.

“You said you were going out of your mind?” he asks, kissing the top of my head. I snuggle in even farther. Never have I felt so safe as I do in Oliver’s arms. And that’s not anything new—he’s always given me this feeling.

I think it’s why I love him so much.

“I probably put a groove in the carpet from all my pacing.”

He chuckles. “Me too, sweetheart. I’ve been going crazy.”

I pull away enough to look up into his face. “Why would you be going crazy?”

He raises an eyebrow, his expression indicating it’s the dumbest question he’s ever heard. “Because you might say no.”

“And that would…upset you?”

His jaw hardens. “It would fucking devastate me, babygirl.” He closes his eyes and seems to force the next words out, like they’re painful to him.

“But I would deal with it. If that’s what you really wanted, I would deal with it.

I only want this if you’re sure.” He walks us over to the couch, collapsing into the cushions without releasing me so I fall into his lap.

“Now talk to me. Tell me why you’ve been feeling crazy. ”

I take a deep breath, realizing that most of the frantic thoughts have quieted down now. “I think space was the wrong choice for me today,” I say. “I was sitting here thinking that I wish I had someone to talk to, and it hit me. You’re the one I would talk to about a big life decision.”

He makes an approving noise. “That makes me really fucking happy, babygirl. I want to be the person you trust.”

“You always have been.” I try to gather my courage. “So how would this, um, relationship work?” A terrible thought crosses my mind. “Would it even be a relationship or are you looking for something casual or?—”

“It would be a relationship, Lilly,” he says, sounding a bit pissed off, like he’s offended I would even ask. “An exclusive relationship. I don’t want you with any other guys.”

“And what about you?” I ask. “Would you be with other girls?”

“Shit no,” he snaps. Yeah, he’s definitely annoyed. “Why in the hell would I be with anyone else if I had you?”

My heart swells up in my chest even as uncertainty fills me. “I don’t really understand, Oliver. Before yesterday you never once acted like you were interested in me…that way.”

He snorts. “I guess I’m a good damn actor then, baby, because I can assure you this isn’t something that suddenly occurred to me last night.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything? You’re the kind of guy who goes after what he wants.”

He stares into my eyes. “Because I didn’t think I would be good for you. I thought my brand of kinkiness would turn you off.”

Heat floods my face at the mere mention of kink and he groans, brushing his fingertips over my hot skin. “You’re so fucking pretty when you blush.”

“I don’t know how this works,” I admit.

“Well, when two people like each other very much?—”

I smack his arm. “I’m serious! I’ve never done anything like this before, Ollie. All of my relationships have been totally vanilla.”

He growls, his fingers tightening on my hips. “As much as it pains me to even think of anyone else touching you, I have to ask. Have you found those vanilla relationships fulfilling?”