Page 5 of Road Trip With Her Daddy Protector

He hesitates, jaw tightening stubbornly. “Lola, I can’t?—”

“Yes, you can,” I interrupt gently, stepping closer. “Please. Besides…I’ll feel safer with you next to me.”

His eyes widen slightly, and the muscles in his throat flex visibly as he swallows. Finally, after a long pause, he nods once. “Fine. But only because you need to feel safe.”

I turn away quickly, hiding my flushed face. He waits respectfully outside while I slip into pajamas from my duffel bag, my pulse quickening as I slide beneath the covers, nerves jittering through me like a live wire.

When Gus comes back in, he keeps his gaze carefully averted, pulling off his boots and shrugging out of his jacket. His movements are precise, almost rigid, as though he's forcing himself not to think too hard about what we’re doing. But as he slides into bed beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight, every nerve in my body ignites.

“Try to sleep, Lola,” he murmurs softly, facing away from me, his broad shoulders tense beneath the thin cotton shirt he’s still wearing.

“Okay,” I whisper back, heart pounding. But sleep feels impossible. Not with Gus so close—his warmth radiating beside me, his steady breathing filling the quiet room.

Minutes stretch into an eternity, and my mind races with forbidden thoughts. Slowly, I turn onto my side, facing him. Gus lies perfectly still, eyes closed, his handsome face softened by sleep. I can't stop myself from studying him—the stubble shadowing his jaw, the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the strong curve of his mouth. His chest rises and falls rhythmically, drawing my gaze downward, heat pooling low in my belly.

He’s beautiful. The thought makes me blush deeply, but I don’t look away. Being this close to Gus feels illicit, dangerous—but also so right. I’ve never felt safer or more alive than I do right now, watching him sleep.

Almost involuntarily, my fingers itch to touch him, to trace the hard line of his shoulder, to feel his heartbeat beneath my palm. I close my eyes briefly, trying to calm myself, but the pull is irresistible.

I reach out slowly, my fingertips brushing lightly against his arm, barely a whisper of contact. Gus inhales sharply, muscles tensing beneath my touch. His eyes snap open, locking onto mine, dark and unreadable.

“Lola…” he growls softly, voice thick with sleep and something else—something I desperately want to understand. “What are you doing?”

“I—I couldn’t sleep,” I whisper nervously, not pulling away.

“You need to sleep,” he insists, but his voice is rougher now, strained. “We both do.”

“Gus,” I murmur, gathering courage, “please don’t push me away.”

He groans softly, shutting his eyes again. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Yes, I do,” I say firmly, scooting closer until mere inches separate us. His warmth seeps into my skin, intoxicating and terrifying. “I’m asking you to stop pretending there’s nothing here.”

His jaw clenches, eyes flashing open again. “Lola, I’m too old, too broken, and?—”

“You’re exactly what I need,” I interrupt boldly, surprising myself. “You make me feel safe. Protected. Wanted.”

His breathing deepens sharply, and he stares into my eyes, a storm raging behind his gaze. “You deserve better,” he whispers roughly, voice tinged with pain.

“I don’t want better,” I whisper back. “I want you.”

He reaches up suddenly, his calloused fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. I shiver at the tender touch, heart hammering erratically.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear that,” he murmurs softly, thumb grazing my lower lip. “But you're vulnerable right now. I can't take advantage of?—”

“You're not,” I insist quickly, leaning into his hand. “I trust you.”

A deep, tortured sigh escapes him. His fingers linger against my skin, hesitant and gentle. “You have no idea how tempting you are, Lola. How much you test my control.”

“Then stop controlling it,” I breathe, pressing my lips lightly against his palm. He groans, the sound raw and agonized, but his eyes blaze hotter, filled with desire he can't disguise.

Finally, he shakes his head slightly, reluctantly pulling his hand away. “Not tonight,” he says roughly. “You need sleep, and so do I.”

Disappointment aches through me, but beneath it simmers a new, hopeful warmth. Gus didn't deny his feelings—just delayed them. For now.

“Okay,” I whisper, retreating slightly. “But I'm not giving up.”

His lips twitch faintly, a rare smile tugging at his mouth. “I didn't think you would.”

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