Page 17 of His to Cherish (Club Wyld #5)

OLIVER

“ A re you sure about this?” I ask.

Lilly rolls her eyes. “I’m every bit as sure as I was the last ten times you asked me.”

I frown at her. “I still don’t like it.”

She takes my hand from where it’s resting in the car’s center console and brings it to her lap, entwining her fingers with mine. “We’ve been over and over this,” she reminds me. “I don’t want us to live our lives in secret. I’m not ashamed of us, Ollie.”

“I’m not ashamed either,” I snap, temper rising. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t want you exposed to these fucking wolves.”

She leans over and kisses my cheek, her sweet scent nearly making me swerve into oncoming traffic. “I don’t care about the wolves. Not when I have my big, strong Daddy to protect me.”

“Lilly,” I warn. She knows it’s not a good idea to tempt me like this when I’m driving. More than once I’ve pulled off the side of the road and made her suck me off as punishment for not obeying my traffic rules.

She laughs softly. “It’s fine, Oliver. And your PR guys agree with me.”

“Fuck the PR guys,” I mutter, but I know she’s right.

As soon as I told the team how I wanted to play this, they stopped arguing and went to work to make it happen.

First the lawyers hired a PI to track down the informant—turned out it was some Dom I’d never even met before who saw me at Wyld—who just so happened to work for Zenith.

The asshole had his submissive contact the paper claiming to be my girlfriend.

They sold the story in an attempt to discredit me before the sale.

Turns out that was a pretty dumb move, since we were able to directly link him to the article.

That made Zenith look bad in the public eye.

It also meant that the informant was slapped with a lawsuit for breaking the strict confidentiality terms at Wyld.

By the time the club is through with him, he’ll regret the hell out of taking that money from the gossip site.

Gretchen wanted us to pin it all on him.

She thought if I just kept out of sight for a while, we could pretend like he’d lied about the whole thing.

There was no proof I was actually a member of Club Wyld, since those records are so fiercely guarded.

I’d been inclined to agree with her, but Lilly wasn’t having it.

She didn’t want to hide away from the world, didn’t want to act as though there was anything seedy or wrong about our relationship.

And the lawyers and PR guys agreed with her.

As it turns out, the story hasn’t actually hurt our bottom line in any way.

In fact, I’m far more well-known and well-liked than I’d been before.

Apparently, there are entire blogs dedicated to me and the rumors about my extra-curricular activities.

Women, in particular, rated me very highly on the likability surveys the PR team commissioned.

“This just goes to show there are a hell of a lot of women out there not getting what they really need from their vanilla relationships,” Lilly had said, somewhat smugly. No one would ever confuse her sex life as vanilla these days.

It was her idea to go out like this tonight.

She says she’s tired of sneaking through the back every time we want to go to the club.

I warned her that there’s the possibility someone will see us going in—I’ve had photographers following me more than once since the story, and Club Wyld has had to hire extra security to keep the curious away—but Lilly insists she doesn’t care.

I love her so fucking much.

In spite of the headache at work, the last two weeks have been the best of my life. I go home to Lilly every single night, wake up next to her every morning. She’s being stubborn about selling her townhouse, but I’m working on getting her to agree to move in with me officially.

I know I’ll get her there sooner than later. My babygirl is very eager to please her Daddy.

In spite of her insistence that she doesn’t care if anyone sees us, I notice her pull a compact from her purse as we near the club. “You look gorgeous.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Could my hair be any crazier? This stupid humidity.”

“Your hair looks perfect,” I insist. “You know I like it when you look all wild and well-fucked.”

I grin when she blushes. That shit will never get old.

Of course, when we pull up to Club Wyld it’s to an empty street. Not a single photographer or onlooker in sight. But Lilly still seems nervous as I hand my keys off to the valet and lead her inside.

“What’s wrong?” I ask once we’re in the front lounge.

“Nothing,” she says, but her voice is high pitched and unsteady. “Can we get a drink?”

So something definitely has her nervous, because Lilly rarely drinks. As much as it kills me not to press the issue, I decide I’ll give her some time to tell me herself. If nothing else, I can force it out of her once I get her over my lap in the back.

We sit down with our drinks and people watch for a while.

It’s not a public night, so the front lounge is a bit more scandalous than normal.

A few tables away, a woman is kneeling on the bench of one of the booths.

She’s leaning forward, showing off a glimpse of a fluffy cat’s tail, no doubt attached to a butt plug.

I smirk as I watch Lilly’s eyes widen in response.

“Such a sweet, innocent babygirl,” I murmur into her ear.

She raises her drink to her mouth with a shaky hand and I swear I hear her mutter, “not tonight.”

A few moments later, a suited man appears at our table. “Andres,” I say, greeting one of the club’s hosts. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You as well, Mr. York,” he says, then he surprises me by turning to Lilly. “Everything is ready as you requested, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” she squeaks out, her face beet-red now.

“Third room on the left in the west hall,” he says. “There’s a reserved sign on the door.”

She nods, looking anywhere but at me. Andres tilts his head in my direction then walks away. I turn to Lilly. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?”

“Well, you know it’s your birthday next week,” she says shakily.

“I do know the date of my birth, yes.”

She blows out a long breath, clearly freaking out about whatever this is. “So, I um, thought I would arrange something for you. For us. Something, you know, special.”

My heart lifts at the idea of her going to the trouble to surprise me. Meanwhile, my dick hardens as I consider what that surprise might be. I lean in close and nip at the lobe of her ear. “And what did you plan, babygirl?”

She finally looks at me, and I can see desire in her gaze, hidden under the layers of nerves. “How about I show you?”

I grin. “Go right ahead.”

She takes a deep breath, straightening her shoulders.

“Okay. I need you to stay here for a bit and then follow me to the door Andres mentioned.” I frown at that, not liking the idea of her walking around the club on her own.

“I promise I’ll walk straight there and not talk to anyone,” she says, in her best sweet little girl voice.

She knows it always works on me. “You can follow me in ten minutes.”

“Five,” I counter, and she raises an eyebrow. I have to bite back my grin at the hint of her sassiness. Whatever she has planned better provide ample opportunity to spank her for that.

“Eight,” she challenges, and I laugh, pulling her in for a kiss.

“Fine. Eight minutes. But only because you have me so very intrigued babygirl.” I give her a quick, sharp slap on the thigh. “Better hurry, though, or I might change my mind and follow you right now.”

She grins, pressing a kiss to my cheek, and it’s everything I can do to keep from stopping her as she hops up and darts away.

It’s the longest fucking eight minutes of my life.

And you better believe I set a timer for that shit.

I hate being away from Lilly under any circumstances—my work days have been pretty unbearable lately, and I’ve been leaving the office earlier and earlier— but the idea of being away from Lilly while she’s planning something naughty is next to impossible.

The second my timer dings, I jump up and head for the steel door.

My heart is pounding hard as I approach the room Andres indicated. I have no idea what Lilly has planned, but I’m one hundred percent sure I’m going to enjoy it. It involves my girl—how could I not love it?

I pause at the door. My inclination is to barge in and claim her, but I force myself to stop and knock. She would be disappointed if I ruined whatever she has set up. “Lilly?” I call softly as I knock. “It’s me, sweetheart.”

“Come in, Daddy,” I hear her call, and my heart practically beats out of my chest with anticipation as I open the door.

I stand in the doorway for a long moment, blinking around at the scene Lilly arranged, trying to catch my bearings.

The room is set up like a bedroom, with a white, four-poster bed in the center.

The bed is covered in a flowered pink quilt and there are a few fuzzy throw pillows scattered near the headboard.

The decor in the room matches the bed—a soft rug on the floor, a white rocking chair in the corner, flowers on the nightstand.

The room is pretty and girlish but not over the top. There aren’t stuffed animals or dolls, the way there are in the main age play room. This could almost be Lilly’s bedroom in her house, all soft and feminine like her.

But then there’s my girl herself. She’s stretched out on her tummy on the rug, her feet kicking behind her. She’s wearing a white cotton nightie and she has her hair in matching braids on either side of her face. She smiles sweetly up at me. “Did you come to tuck me in?”

Holy fuck.

Her “surprise” is immediately clear to me. She’s willing to take our play to another level. Sure, she calls me Daddy and lets me spank her, but we haven’t extended our role-play beyond that. Tonight, apparently, she wants to go farther.