Cotton Candy (Silver Fox Club Book 1)

by Gaja J. Kos

  Of course, as fate had it, after the disastrous relationship with Trisha followed him across the pond, he found himself seeking the normalcy that was the Silver Fox Club far more often than he cared to admit.

  “Well, then,” Bram drawled, swirling the scotch in his glass, “I presume you’re the reason Ms. Summers has been uncharacteristically perky for the past couple of weeks?”

  William couldn’t help it. He grinned. He grinned like the old, smug bastard he was. “We’ve been…good.”

  “Good? Christ, mate, you were so busy drooling all over her you hardly heard a word I said.” Aiden huffed, but failed to conceal the smile underlining his tone.

  Again, all William could do was grin widely before giving his friend a pointed look. “As if you weren’t charmed off your arse.”

  “I admit I was intrigued for a moment there, but then I saw the whole Neanderthal come-closer-and-I’ll-pummel-you-into-the-ground thing you had going on.” He shrugged. “I decided I’d rather not risk getting my Dior ruined for five minutes of intellectually titillating conversation.”

  Bram cleared his throat. “As much as I’d like to keep on listening to you two make highly inappropriate comments about my student, let me just say”—he placed a heavy hand on William’s shoulder—“welcome to the club.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Aiden muttered and ran a hand through his mane of hair, gaze fixed on Bram.

  With no small amount of amusement, William retreated into the background to watch the exchange.

  The look on Bram’s face was all innocence. If innocence cracked whips. “What?”

  “This isn’t some passing fancy you fuck in your cabinet for a while then send on her merry way with grades as high as her heels. The man’s in love, Bram,” Aiden said pointedly, then turned to William. “You are, right? I’m not making a complete arse of myself right now?”

  “No, you’re not.” He smiled. “And yes. Yes, I am.”

  “What about her parents?” Aiden ventured carefully. “Sorry to ask, mate, but I wouldn’t want to see you fall off your grand horse when they realized their baby is seeing someone closer to their age than hers.”

  William leveled his gaze on him, knowing well that while Bram had always had easy arrangements with younger women, Aiden was far more reserved. His brother had gotten into some serious trouble when he, while in his thirties, knocked up a nineteen-year-old. They eloped, moved to the States where they lived even now with another child on the way, but it had been hell for a while.

  The fact that Matthew Faye had been a fairly renowned stage actor here in London had only added fuel to the already explosive fire.

  Christ, thinking about it now, that whole ordeal was as close to a public lynching as it got. And it swore Aiden off younger women. At least those still in their twenties.

  William shook his head. “Lily assured me they won’t mind. They aren’t exactly a conservative lot with her mother divorcing her father for another woman and him moving back to Ireland where he happily remarried. With a woman only about six years Lily’s senior. So we’re good on that front.”

  Aiden looked sincerely relieved as he lifted his glass in salutation.

  They remained submerged in comfortable silence as he signaled for another round of appetizers to go with their yet unfinished drinks, then all but jumped on the food when the thin wisp of a waiter placed the tray before them.

  “I’m happy for you.” Bram twirled a prosciutto dipper between his fingers. “I never believed I’d see you dating again, mate. Not after Trisha.”

  William winced inwardly at the name. She was still trying to bust his balls, playing one of her dirty games or another. Just last night, he’d seen her sitting in a restaurant down the street from his place as he walked home from Lily’s. He’d thanked his fucking lucky stars a hundred times that he was alone.

  Because that viper had spied him from behind the bloody glass. And smiled.

  But as he met Bram’s gaze, the answer lying on the tip of his tongue wasn’t bitter at all. “I think I love her.”

  “Bloody hell,” Bram shouted, then broke into a grin.

  “I’m well aware we’ve only been seeing each other for a fortnight,” he explained before either of the stooges could question his grand proclamation. “But that’s a fortnight we’ve barely spent apart. Her place or my place. After Coriolanus, there hasn’t been a single morning I’ve woken up without her by my side.”

  Aiden studied him with slightly narrowed eyes. “How does that work, exactly? With someone who’s still at university? Do you fiddle with your equipment while she studies?”

  Bram threw him a disgusted look. “By god I hope you mean the man’s camera and not his tallywacker.”

  “It’s usually a combination of both,” William pitched in.

  And a bloody brilliant combination it was.

  13

  The Handsomest Man

  Cuddling naked under a warm duvet was a sensation unlike anything else. But to have William stretched out sideways beside her, his head resting in her lap as he read a book… Well, to say Lily found her soul mate would be a serious understatement.

  She’d stopped convincing herself a long time ago that this was anything but the beginning of a relationship with a man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Being an introvert with a sturdier wall around her than China, it was always hard to let people in. Even harder to be around them for longer periods of time without feeling utterly drained.

  With William, however, that need for solitude never arose. She could recharge in his presence.

  And that was precisely what they had been doing for the better part of the past two hours.

  Him engrossed in the pages of James’s Gilded Cage, her falling in love with Even the Darkest Stars.

  The apartment smelled of sex, coffee, and books, and she’d be damned if that wasn’t the atmosphere she had always dreamed of.

  Contrary to the faint moment of panic she’d experienced early on at the prospect of seriously dating someone who was twenty years her senior, being with William filled her with security. Sure, there were differences between them, some even fueled by the age gap. But whenever they stumbled upon one, it was a venue to explore, not bicker over. In the end, both of them gained something. Even if it was as trivial as her introducing him to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and him showing her the complete brilliantness that was the original Star Trek series.

  But most of all, she loved how she could carry endless conversations with him—or be completely silent, each of them doing their own thing while being together at the same time.

  Smiling, she trailed her fingers through his thick hair and played with those silver strands she loved so much. “You do know you’re the handsomest man I’ve ever seen, right?”

  A corner of his lips curled up. He stuck a skull-patterned bookmark between the pages and placed his book aside, then liberated hers from her grasp and repeated the process.

  Lily’s breath quickened as their gazes locked for a second before William guided his lower, lingering on her lips, her neck…

  He slid the duvet down to her stomach. “Are you coming on to me, pet?” he asked in that sultry voice of his he knew turned her on.

  As if she weren’t already.

  Lily grinned. “Always.”

  The hunger in his eyes was surreal, and she was trembling as his breath drew a line between her breasts, lips travelling down her stomach. Lower. The duvet was gone before she could blink.

  With a teasing caress, William spread her legs, then yanked her down and settled himself between them.

  “Perfect,” he whispered, meeting her gaze for a long, intense moment before he trailed his tongue from her entrance to her clit.

  “William…”

  Another torturously long lick and then his face was buried in her pussy, his beard doing unspeakable things to her sensitive flesh.

  He grazed her clit with his teeth, tongue drinking in her juices. But when his fingers
dug into her hips, when he sucked and bit and ravaged her with fucking brilliant possession, she came so hard the room around her spun.

  William groaned, lifting her ass higher, clearly determined not to let a dash of her orgasm escape his expert lips. Fuck. His face was all male satisfaction as he climbed on top, the dark and silver hairs of his beard bearing glistening traces of her climax.

  Every nerve, every cell in her body ached to kiss him. He lowered himself atop her, his cock hard as it pressed between her thighs. But just as that faint distance grew nearly nonexistent, William’s phone screeched.

  He swore, Lily right along with him.

  Then she did it again when he scooted off the bed and covered that magnificent body of his with the plush royal blue bathrobe she’d purchased for him once it became clear he intended to spend a lot of time at her place.

  Despite her current frustration, the thought brought a smile to her face.

  But that little bubble of bliss broke as soon as William marched into the small living room and closed the door shut behind him with more force than was necessary.

  Wonderful.

  Lily burrowed the back of her head in her pillow and exhaled. He had said little on the matter, but she knew by now there was just one person who put him in a mood like that.

  His ex.

  Unsurprisingly, Mr. Charleston was nowhere in sight the next day. Or the day after that.

  Even his texts had been infuriatingly brief, answering when she asked a direct question, but divulged little of what was actually going on in his life. So when he called and asked her if she wanted to see The Tempest that evening, of course the answer was yes.

  Even if it had been a tad snippy.

  Still, by the time 6 p.m. rolled by, Lily’s mood improved substantially. Sporting freshly polished Doc Martens and a long-sleeved black dress with a killer neckline that did wonders for her hourglass figure, she not only looked good, but felt good, too. While it was a little cold outside, she was glad at least the winds had subsided and kept her French twist firmly in place.

  William did always say how much he liked her neck when she styled her hair that way.

  Yes, she was that petty.

  And proud of it, too.

  If the man was so eager to keep her on the sidelines after everything they’d shared, it was only fair he had a nice, long look at was he was missing. That same reason was why she risked getting her butt a bit chilly, deciding on stockings and a garter belt instead of her usual tights. The suspenders pressed discreetly against her dress, and Lily knew there wasn’t a chance in hell William wouldn’t pick up on them.

  Like she said. Petty.

  But so worth it once she shed her coat at the theater and offered him a nice rear view on their way inside. His gaze practically burned holes into her back.

  Unfortunately for her, that was where the fun ended.

  The actors were outstanding and the performance itself was good—not the best she’d ever been to, but not low enough on the scale to be labeled as average, either. Maybe it was the fact that she had seen too many similar tricks pulled by the same director already. Or maybe it was the man sitting by her side, teetering on the edge between lust and gloom that made it impossible for her to be charmed by the play.

  So much for her prized objectivity.

  But truth was, Lily’s instincts were ringing a shitload of alarms the entire time. And with good reason.

  Even before she managed to button up her coat in the teeming lobby—the coat which William, of course, being the gentleman he was, held out for her—he said the words she’d been dreading for days.

  “We can’t see each other any more, Lily. Not for a while.”

  14

  The Clusterfuck of Problems

  The flash of hurt in her eyes was bad enough. But the fact that she tried to hide it made William want to take it all back.

  Only it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

  So he contended himself with cursing inwardly as he escorted her outside, every step increasing the laden weight in his stomach.

  Lily stayed perfectly quiet all the way to the pub down the street, and he was feeling too rotten to say anything without a pint of ale in his hands. Cowardly, maybe, but this wasn’t a decision he’d come to—or carried out—lightly. He knew that no matter how he put it, he couldn’t avoid harming the one person he actually loved. Even if it was to protect her from something far worse than a temporary broken heart.

  “So, William, does your grand opening come with a follow-up?” she inquired once she shrugged off her coat and tossed it unceremoniously on the bench. She sat down, but made room for him beside her.

  William could have stabbed himself in the eye.

  Here he was, breaking it off between them, and she still offered him his favorite spot. What the fuck was he doing?

  He sighed. The bloody right thing, that’s what.

  “Well?” Lily asked again once he slid onto the bench.

  Fucking hell. What was he supposed to say?

  That the sudden onslaught of calls led him to suspect Trisha had been stalking Lily’s place? Probably Lily herself, too? That he always seemed to get texts from her regarding some triviality or another that really had nothing to do with him, but all of them were timed precisely to interrupt whenever he and Lily were together?

  No, he didn’t want to bring that kind of ugly into Lily’s life. He’d already done enough shit by involving himself with her as it was.

  His fingers curled into fists, heart crashing against his ribs.

  He should have known things were starting to go pear-shaped when Trisha’s manifestations in the vicinity of his flat became a regular occurrence. But he’d hoped it was otherwise this time. Just this one fucking time when his life had finally started to feel right.

  “I know I haven’t been very straightforward with you about my former relationship,” he began, the words bitter on his tongue. “Patricia and I were never married, but, Christ, it feels like I’m in the middle of a divorce.”

  Lily cocked her head to the side, but before she could say anything, a waiter strode up to the table. They both ordered a pint, then remained silent until the man returned with their drinks, the only interaction the occasional brush of their knees.

  Shit, this was hard. He swallowed a mouthful of the cold brew, then looked at Lily again.

  “It isn’t a pretty story,” he said quietly. “Trish and I, we… We were flying, I think. She worked at some big-ass event I participated in, and we got talking. I was fresh out of a relationship that went sour, and her own was on a steep decline. That right there should have been a red flag, but neither of us really cared.”

  And he had been paying the price for his mistake for five bloody years. Those three weeks before Trisha had left her boyfriend for good and moved in with him were the only good ones they had truly shared.

  They had given him hope, made it easy to turn a blind eye to the array of problems that had already started to manifest. But the real shit hit in Paris that first summer.

  He’d proposed to her with a gorgeous antique ring he found at the flea market by the Seine.

  She said no.

  Actually, she hadn’t merely turned him down but crapped all over his choice of jewelry. Trisha wasn’t about to accept a pre-owned ring, although he suspected even a freshly cut diamond straight from Tiffany’s wouldn’t have satisfied her that day. Or any other, for that matter.

  Things had only gotten more strained between them once they returned home to LA, then deteriorated further during their brief stay in New York when it became clear to him the two of them couldn’t keep on being an item. Aside from the time spent together, there simply wasn’t anything there.

  “I wanted to break it off between us,” he admitted hesitantly as memories surged, tying a knot in his stomach.

  He’d wanted out. That was all. Out of the relationship. Out of the hellhole his life had turned into.

  Out of the skin that didn
’t feel at all like his.

  “So what went wrong?”

  Despite the touch of darkness to her voice—darkness William knew he’d put there—Lily’s question carried no resentment. If anything, it was gentle. Sincere.

  Like the woman he’d fallen in love with.

  He sighed. “We kept trying instead.”

  It wasn’t the whole truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to say that it had been Trisha who didn’t give a fuck about what he wanted. Hell, he had a feeling the woman hadn’t listened to a single thing he’d confided in her.

  The only time he’d spotted any kind of short-term change was once he truly started to pull away. Not just with words, but with his entire presence.

  It was then that the tears came, the whole convincing him that they should work harder to keep whatever it was between them alive.

  The first time Trisha had sworn to put in an effort, William had believed her. He worked his balls off not to cock-up, strove to make her happy. But nothing seemed to make a difference. All they did was fall into the same vicious circle again.

  He shrugged himself from the memory and gave Lily an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, pet. I love you. I hope you know that.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  There was so much in that small gesture. Lily hadn’t merely accepted his affection, but his silent admission—and decision—that this was as far as divulging his personal matters would go.

  It was the most he’d shared with anyone about his past. A part of him wanted to tell her everything, but the words wouldn’t come.

  Couldn’t.

  “I love you, too, William.” Her hand brushed his thigh. “Which is precisely why you’re leaving me, isn’t it?”

  William never thought such a soft voice could cut so deeply. Or reveal so much.

  He should have known that if there was anyone who could catch the clusterfuck of problems fate had vomited on his shoes, it was her. Even with him being tight-lipped about what was probably the most shameful part of his existence, it was clear Lily had been aware of all those small nuances in his moods he’d attempted to conceal, of the reason behind them—as well as all the consequences he couldn’t bring himself to speak out loud.