Sweet Emotion: East Coast Sugar Daddies: Book 1

by Bates, Austin

  Kade squinted at me. “Important?”

  “Very.”

  “So important you put it off by having sex in a rec center gym?”

  “I’m a CEO. I know how to manage my time.” I glanced at my wrist, at a watch I wasn’t wearing. “Looks like we finished right on schedule.”

  He smiled and placed his hand down on my cock. I gasped, my spent and sensitive member tingling. “I want to do this again. Sooner rather than later.”

  “I’ll make it happen,” I promised.

  Kade slid backward off my lap and did up his button and zipper. I took care of my own and lifted my head just in time to intercept another kiss.

  “Good game,” he whispered against my lips, and pulled away.

  I watched him walk off, stepping gingerly like a man who’s just had an amazing orgasm. His ass cheeks moved under the material of his referee pants, their bounce subtle and oh-so-right.

  Smiling to myself, I placed my hands on my wheels and pushed myself out of the gym. The receptionist at the desk wished me a good night in her usual tone of voice, which told me that Kade and I had miraculously gotten away with our risqué escapade. We couldn’t do it again though, and not just because I didn’t believe in pressing my luck for no reason. For Kade, and for myself, our next act together should be in private, where we wouldn’t have to worry about being caught.

  Speaking of being caught, I needed to take care of that.. There could be no more guilt hanging over me.

  As soon as I got home, I called Aaron.

  “Hi!” he said, greeting me with such enthusiasm it was as if we were old friends. And why not? He knew so much about me after our interviews. “I heard you made waves at a basketball game tonight.”

  Remembering the unbelievable euphoria of my one-in-a-million basket, I grinned. “Well, that’s what I do. I make waves. Are you busy?”

  “Not for a client.”

  That brought the guilt back like it had never left. I winced. “Aaron, I have to tell you something. I can’t be part of the app anymore.”

  “Oh.” Aaron paused. Such a simple word, yet it contained a lifetime of disappointment. “Can I ask why? You didn’t enjoy your date?”

  “It’s not that. I did enjoy my date. It’s just that I ended up going on a date with the wrong person. There was a mix-up, and I… I like the person I found on my own, outside the app.”

  “Sterling did hint about wanting to try again with someone else,” Aaron murmured, almost to himself. “I just assumed you two weren’t as compatible as I thought.”

  “It was a mistake that I found someone other than Sterling. But, it doesn’t feel like a mistake to me. I don’t want to change it.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m sorry.” My eyes stung. I wasn’t about to cry over this, not when I was happy. It still felt bad, though. “I’m not used to letting people down.”

  “Well, I do wish I could have used your data for the app. But,” Aaron continued, “I’m happy you found someone. You don’t have to be sorry at all.”

  “I still have to thank you. Without you, I never would have ended up with Kade like this.”

  He chuckled. “Well, you’re welcome.”

  I ended the phone call and looked up at the ceiling, my thoughts full of Kade and how much quicker we were connecting than I had ever imagined. I felt out of control, like I was on a rollercoaster performing loops and spirals, going in reverse, flipping upside down. It was terrifying.

  I had no plans to get off anytime soon.

  12

  Kade

  Harrison Carr.

  CEO of the Limitless Foundation. Disabled athlete. Smacker of basketballs. I was beginning to gain an understanding of him on a personal level and I didn’t doubt our connection would continue to grow if we kept meeting up with each other -and having sex. However, who was he? Aside from the brief glimpse into his past when he told me about the damage to his spine, mentioning an accident in the process, I knew nothing about his personal life.

  I really wanted to.

  What I wanted from him, I had decided, was more than sex. More than hookups. More than being a pampered booty call like those omegas who signed up for the app. I wanted to know him, to see through that professional façade he automatically reverted to when he was uncertain about something. Sure, I’d had peeks at him, glances, but nothing tangible, nothing that told me what he was like when no one was watching, what secrets he had, what his likes and dislikes and pet peeves were. To me, the fact that I wanted to know all those things and so much more was proof I was falling for him.

  I had never fallen for anyone, never let my emotions take me this far before. I had no idea how to proceed, so I did what seemed to be the best course of action.

  I went to his company office. The Limitless Foundation building was easy to find, thanks to a taxi driver with a GPS, but when I saw it for myself, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to pick it out on my own. The tower looked the same as all the rest, tall and imposing, composed of silver metal and glass. Nothing set it apart. Now that I knew Harrison’s proclivity for performing good deeds from the shadows, it made sense, even though I didn’t understand it. Why didn’t he want people to know who was doing so much good for them?

  Puzzled, I paid the driver and stepped out into the heat. I’d gotten here fairly early in the morning because I hadn’t been able to sleep much, my thoughts refusing to rest. However, that apparently didn’t matter. Hot was hot, day, night, dawn or dusk.

  I hurried across the pavement, up the walkway to the building. There were no stairs, only ramps, sunlight reflecting off the concrete and burning into my eyes. Grabbing the door handle, I threw it open and stepped inside.

  A cool gust of air swept past my face, stirring my hair. I sighed in relief and thanks, the sweat on my forehead, which had formed during the few seconds it took to walk from taxi to building, cooling and evaporating.

  The lobby of the Foundation startled me. I’d expected modern finishing and lots of chrome, geometric designs. Instead, I was reminded more of a hotel sitting area. The floor was carpeted in a solid neutral tone, the walls a complimentary shade. Thick chairs and padded benches took up much of the space to either side of the room, most of which were equipped with mobility-assisting bars to help anyone who might need them. Plants were everywhere, and not the oversized, big-leafed plants that so many places relied on to bring in a pop of color in a barren room. These were cacti, aloe vera, ferns, decorative grasses, small decorative trees, and more I couldn’t identify. They had to be difficult to maintain and yet each one looked healthy as could be, really selling the homey vibe. Time and care was put into this room and its maintenance.

  I had no doubt every single floor in this building had the same amount of thought put into their design.

  I went up to the front desk, where an older omega man had been watching me ever since I walked in the door.

  “Hello,” he said, smiling at me. “How are you today?”

  “A little amazed,” I responded.

  He laughed. “Don’t worry. A lot of people have the same first reaction. The world isn’t used to companies who care about the comfort of their clients.”

  “All these plants…”

  “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. Each plant was picked out personally by a member of our wonderful staff. There’s an entire balcony garden on the fifth floor. Very therapeutic.”

  No wonder the room seems so personal. Literally everyone in the building has had a say in what’s here. It’s like a family living room, always open to guests.

  “What can I do for you today, Mr…”

  “Kennedy,” I answered, snapping back to the task at hand. “Kade Kennedy. I need to speak with Harrison.”

  “Well, certainly. Mr. Carr is a very busy man. Do you have an appointment?”

  “Uh…”

  The omega shrugged. “That’s no problem. We understand sudden decisions are just as important as ones that are planned out. Would you like
to make an appointment? Or, I can see if his secretary is able to find an opening for you.”

  This wasn’t how I wanted to go about doing this. If I took up an appointment, then someone else who actually needed it wouldn’t be able to get in.

  “No, thank you. I… Maybe I should think about this a little more.”

  He nodded, looking somehow not annoyed at my apparent indecisiveness. “That’s fine. You come back when you’ve thought it through. Our door is always open.”

  “Thanks. Uh, do you have a bathroom down here? I came a long way.”

  He pointed off down a side hallway. “They’re right down there, at the very end. Please take care not to get lost. There are a lot of other doorways there. The bathrooms are very clearly marked.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and hurried off in that direction. I didn’t need the bathroom, but I was hoping, hoping desperately, that I could find a secret way to get up to Harrison’s office -wherever that was. All I wanted to do was show up and let him know I cared about him. The rec center was having a dinner in his honor and I had volunteered to invite him. The last surprise I’d sprung on him had turned into a disaster, when I asked him that awful question at the gala, and I wanted to show him I could do better.

  Also, I really just wanted to see him again. I’d take any excuse to do it, even if it meant popping in and out of his workplace.

  He’d be happy to see me. Why wouldn’t he be?

  The omega at the front desk was right that the hallway was confusing. It was wide, no doubt to accommodate wheelchairs and other devices -as the whole building probably was- and there were all sorts of other halls branching out from it, plus doorways galore. I opened several as I passed and found them to be full of various supplies and office equipment.

  I looked back over my shoulder and confirmed that I couldn’t be seen from the lobby anymore. Holding my breath, I ducked across the hall and down another.

  As soon as I did, it was like entering an entirely new world. A maze of halls opened up around me, with more doors than seemed possible. Soft sounds of conversation and typing echoed all around. Signs and plaques covered the walls between pictures of staff members and events and inspirational paintings.

  I snuck down one hall after another, scanning the directional signs in a vain hope to find one that said “elevator” or even “stairs.” Several times, I had to hide around a corner and behind large plants as someone came near, but no one ever noticed me. If they did, they didn’t seem to mind my presence. For all they knew, I had a reason to be there.

  Then, almost as if fate had twisted to allow it to happen, I saw a big plaque on a wall that declared there was an elevator. I rushed over and into the area around the corner, slapping my hand on the button to call the lift. Faint, mechanical sounds filtered through the wall, barely audible beneath the cadence of my pounding heart.

  The doors opened and I jumped inside and jabbed the button to close the doors. Then, I had a decision to make, and I had better make it fast or else risk someone walking in on me.

  What floor would a CEO’s office be on?

  No, scratch that.

  What floor would Harrison’s office be on?

  Not the top, then. No. That wasn’t like him. Second from the top? But that was too obvious.

  Incredibly aware of time counting down, each second putting me in more danger of being discovered, I reached out and whacked the elevator buttons at random. Fourth from the top. As good as any.

  The ride was long and slow, with hardly a hitch to remind me I was in an elevator. I almost started to think I wasn’t moving at all until suddenly the doors sprang open and I found myself staring right through a glass wall at a woman behind a desk. She lifted her head to acknowledge my presence.

  I stepped out, my heart quivering. The glass wall was not a wall at all but three walls, a transparent office set in front of a rather plain looking door whose one defining feature was the nameplate on top.

  Harrison Carr, CEO.

  I can’t believe I got the right one on the first try.

  Then again, why not? Why question my gut instinct? I was here. That was all that mattered.

  I walked up to the door of the glass office and let myself inside. It was like a greenhouse in there, plants covering every available surface. I recognized a lot of them as being similar to the ones in the lobby, along with ferns and twisting, funky-looking tree/bush things. Her personal touch, I assumed.

  “What can I do for you, sir?”

  “I’m Harrison’s… boyfriend. I need to see him.”

  “Boyfriend?” She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “Even if that’s true, I can’t allow you to go into his office right now. You should know to contact him outside working hours.”

  I edged a little closer to the door. The secretary stood up, as if daring me to continue. I did, but not because of any goading. I had come this far. I wasn’t going to back down.

  “Why can’t I go in? Is he in a meeting?”

  “He has instructed me not to allow anyone into his office right now. I’m sorry, but…”

  Now.

  I threw myself at the door, startling her, startling myself with my own speed. Grabbing the doorknob, praying it wasn’t locked, I twisted. The door opened. I fell inside.

  13

  Harrison

  Sweat slicked my skin, every muscle I possessed twinging in protest against the torture I imposed upon myself. My twisted back ached, throbbed, resisted the movements even as I pushed myself deeper into one of the many stretches I had to perform each day in order to keep myself as healthy as possible. Even stripped down to just my boxers and a t-shirt, I felt hot and overworked -and I had just started a few minutes ago.

  I straightened up and gulped in air, my mouth dry. Holding out my other arm, I repeated the stretch with my other side…

  …and paused as I heard voices coming from outside. I listened, holding the painful position, counting the seconds. I wasn’t supposed to have any appointments right now. So, who was out there? I couldn’t place the voice of the person talking to my secretary, not through the thick walls.

  I collapsed back into my chair and focused on breathing, my eyes shut tightly. My hair clung to my damp forehead. Whatever was going on outside had nothing to do with me, nor did I have any extra attention to spare.

  I sat up again and placed my hands on my desk, bearing all my weight down on it while painstakingly shifting my legs from the foot rest of the wheelchair to the floor. The sensations of the lower half of my body were distant and weak, as if they were numb. Grimacing, I placed my feet on the floor and started to stand. My spine went tight, the damaged portion at my lower back pulling. There was no other word to describe the resisting sensation, the tightness that kept me in my chair for most of my adult life.

  As soon as I cleared the chair, I lowered myself to the floor. My knees were worthless, wooden joints that refused to bend from this angle, the muscles required all but unresponsive. I had to use my hands and wound up in a push-up position. Then, I rolled over onto my back.

  It looked stupid. It felt stupid. It was stupid, but the floor gave me something to push against, to support myself. I braced my shoulder blades on the carpet and pushed with my hips, slowly transferring weight to my feet as my back arched. The end result was a variation on a yoga bridge position, meant to strengthen my core and upper thigh muscles, which were the ones I had to rely on the most for any sort of movement below the waist.

  I counted seconds, my breath fast and unsteady.

  And then the door to my office banged open and a gorgeous young omega with tousled brown hair fell inside on the floor. My secretary tripped over him and went down on her hands and knees.

  All of us on the floor.

  It was so absurd I could have laughed, if I’d had the breath.

  What I did instead was flop flat onto my back again, trying to twist to get a better look. “Kade?” I wheezed.

  “Harrison!” he said.

  “
Mr. Carr!” my secretary practically shouted. “I’m so sorry! I tried to stop him!”

  The absurdity of the moment faded out rapidly, replaced by anger that surged up from very deep inside me. All I asked for was a little privacy in my life, dammit. I didn’t want the press in my face. I didn’t want people to worship me. And I sure as hell didn’t want anyone to see me in such a weak, compromising position.

  “Get out.” I growled the words, my throat tight.

  Kade stood up and helped my secretary stand. From my stupid, turtle-like position on the floor, I watched as he gestured for her to go through first… and then slammed the door shut and locked it.

  “Everything’s fine!” he yelled through it. “I’m his boyfriend!”

  Boyfriend? Shit, never mind that.

  “Kade, get out.” I put my hands on the floor, trying to get up. “Please, get out.”

  Before I say something I regret.

  “She’ll call the guards. She’ll…”

  Kade walked over, completely ignoring everything I had said. He kneeled down at my side and placed his hands on my shoulders. His touch was gentle, but firm, as he guided me back down. “You were doing that incorrectly,” he said. His amber eyes glistened in the light, so soft as they looked down into mine. “And it probably hurt more than necessary. Do it this way.”

  Kade slid one hand down over my stomach, fingers skimming lightly, all the way over my thigh, down my leg, to my shoe. “Let’s get these off for some better traction,” he said, and pulled off my shoes and socks.

  I could only lie there while he did whatever he wanted to me, anger and embarrassment fighting for control over my thoughts. I closed my eyes, unwilling to see him looking at me like that again, like I was one of his clients who needed his help.

  “It’s better if you have a bar or something to put your feet under. Like for sit-ups,” he instructed, his voice still very quiet. “It’s okay to adapt to your needs. Since I’m here, I’ll help.”