Guil

I wasn’t lying when I told Lyla I knew I was going to Hell, and I hoped she’d never learn why. This club right here is one of those reasons. Not that I think anything wrong happens here, because I don’t, but I know she would. She thinks she wants a man, but she doesn’t really know what that means in my world. What a man who plays here would do to her. Seeing this place would send her running. Maybe I should bring her here after all.

“Red again,” a woman says, approaching me. I’m pretty sure we’ve fucked before, but I don’t remember the details. Or her name. I should remember her name, because I make it a point to know the names of all the club patrons, but I’m still off my game tonight. Having Lyla in my house, cooking me lunch and kissing me, is too much—and not enough.

“Yes.”

It’s the one-word answer I give to everyone who’s approached me since the kiss at Lyla’s family home. I’ve come here many nights hoping to forget her, but the moment I step inside, I know it’s going to be red I’m wearing. In here, red means I’m off-limits. As I’ve usually worn green in the past—meaning anything goes—I can see why they’re surprised. Hell, I’m surprised myself, but it is what it is. I don’t want anyone but Lyla.

“Your loss.”

“Okay.”

“Sure I can’t change your mind?”

“Positive,” I tell her, glaring now, because she knows the rules.

“Suit yourself.”

“I always do.”

After two more women—and one man—approach me despite the red anklet, I decide to call it a night, and head to my office to finish some paperwork. My official title is President of Operations, and I don’t manage the individual clubs any longer, but this one is between managers, so I’ve been overseeing it. I’m deciding between two candidates for the job, and I’m honestly stuck. Both would do a great job, so I don’t know who to pick.

With that thought in mind, I text Calum from my office, asking him to come by in the next couple of weeks to help me decide. I hate keeping people in limbo, but both candidates told me they’re fine with waiting as long as necessary. It doesn’t hurt that both are members of the club. Maybe that’s it—maybe I need to pay more attention to how they behave in the club itself.

I’ve seen them both in play, but I’ve never really paid much attention to the interactions they have outside of sex. Being in charge means walking a thin line between enjoying the perks of the job and enforcing the rules. Separating the intimacy of sex with the power wielded outside the playrooms. I’ve never had a problem with it and neither has Calum, but it’s hard for some to handle. Hence, the need for a new manager.

Once I’ve answered a few emails and checked in with my security team and the supervisors on duty, I head home. The club is open 24/7, so there’s always someone else on duty, even while I’m there. It’s another perk of the management job—making your own hours.

Pulling into my driveway, I note Lyla’s car out front. I’d feel bad about not having room in my six-car garage for her, but she’s only here for this one night. And, my rides need their own space. It’s just the way it is.

Once inside the house, I’m assaulted by the smell of cookies. Lemon cookies to be exact. My stomach rumbles and I have no choice, but to follow the heavenly scent to the kitchen. I can’t say I’m surprised to see Lyla there, frosting them with a smile on her face.

“Welcome home.”

Damn if it doesn’t feel like that’s what this is—coming home.

* * *

Lyla

I smile when Guil walks into the kitchen, but then I frown when I get a whiff of the perfume on his body. Perfumes. There are more than one, and they all smell expensive. I don’t wear perfume so I know none of them are mine. How could I have been so stupid?

“Enjoy the cookies,” I say, pushing past him as I run from the room.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, following me up the stairs.

“You smell like the women you’ve obviously been with.”

“Excuse me?” he asks, straightening his spine like he’s readying for battle.

Yeah, well so am I. “You couldn’t wait until I was out of the house? I know you had plans tonight, but was it so necessary to flaunt them in my face.”

“You honestly think I would make out with you against the wall of my home, kiss us both senseless during lunch, and then go and get it on with some other women? You think that little of me?”

“I don’t know what to think,” I admit, some of the anger seeping out of me.

“Because you don’t really know me. You have this romanticized vision of a guy who visited your brother, but that’s not me. I’m not romantic or sweet, Lyla. I’m fiercely loyal, considerate to those I care about, and I keep my promises. Those are things you can count on. Don’t keep looking for more.”

“You can’t ask that of me. I want to know more. I want to know it all. You aren’t going to scare me away. Yes, I’ll admit maybe my crush on you is a little much, but you kissed me and I want more. Let me stay here with you and get to know you.”

“No.”

“Please, Guil. You said you promised my brother you’d give me a chance.”

He looks away, then looks at the ceiling, and finally looks back at me. “That’s the only reason I’m going to let you stay. But you need to be clear on this—I will not fuck you until I think you’re ready, and I meant what I said about not being romantic, so don’t expect it. In fact, you’d be best served by not expecting anything from me.”

“I’m ready now, and I don’t need romance.”

One of those is a lie, but I can deal with not being romanced. At least, I hope I can.

“You’re not ready, and you deserve romance.”

I shrug. “I deserve what I want, and I want you.”

“I’m going to take a shower and then I’ll meet you in the kitchen. We need to talk about what this is going to look like, and decide what to do about your parents. They won’t be okay with this.”

“I’m an adult and it’s time I started living like one.”

“I agree,” he tells me with a smile. It’s the first one he’s given me since we kissed earlier today, and it warms me all over.

“I’m going to finish frosting the cookies while you take your shower. Unless you need help washing your back.”

“Not tonight, Ly.”

“Can’t blame me for trying.”

“No, I can’t.”

He leans in and gives me a sweet kiss on the lips. This man thinks he’s not sweet, but he is. If he wasn’t, I’d be in a hotel right now. Promise or no promise, I’ve got my work cut out for me. Good thing I’m not scared of working hard, especially when it comes to Guil. I’ve waited too long to back down now when I’ve finally got a chance at being with him.

As he walks away, I think about things I could do to speed things along. I could “accidentally” splash some water on my t-shirt while rinsing off the dishes. Or I could drop some frosting on my collarbone, hoping he’d lick or suck it off. There are lots of things I could do to manipulate the situation, but I won’t do them. I want Guil fair and square and I’m not going to play dirty to get him—at least not yet.