Roberts, Sarah - His Sugar Baby (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Sarah Roberts

  She made more than one trek from the dresser to the suitcase, carrying jeans and briefs. As she bent over to arrange the clothing in the suitcase, she chanced to glance over at Michael. His gaze was fastened on her swaying breasts. He was lightly stroking himself, his new erection already thick. She must have made some soft sound because his eyes lifted to hers, his gaze bold and direct.

  Heat sizzled between them.

  Breaking their locked glances, Cathy spun swiftly. That was when she caught sight of the naked reflection of herself, the open suitcase, and Michael braced up on pillows on the bed in the dresser mirror. She realized that he had been watching her in the mirror, bending over to expose her sex to him, while he enjoyed the front view.

  She was stunned. That damned methodical IT mind. He had deliberately planned the placement of the suitcase so that he could enjoy his own private peep show! That was why he had not wanted her to move it closer to the dresser.

  Cathy braced her hands on her lower back and stretched, her breasts lifting and her butt arched upward. From the corner of her eye, she watched him in the mirror. Oh yeah. He definitely reacted. A thread of amusement wove through her indignation. Well, this can work both ways, now can’t it?

  Pretending ignorance, Cathy swung her hips a little more, swaggering on the heels as she made another trip with his undershirts and dress shirts. She set her stance wider as she bent over. Without raising her eyes from her task, she listened for, and heard with great satisfaction, Michael’s swift intake of breath. She hid her smile and felt herself slip into Winter’s skin as though it was a comfortable shirt.

  When she went back to the dresser, she stood with her back to him but left his view of the mirror clear. She picked up a tightly rolled pair of dark socks. Pressing her breasts together with one hand, she moved the socks slowly, up and down, between the tight valley of her breasts. She watched as Michael began fisting himself. She dropped the socks and deliberately tapped a nail against the surface of the mirror. When his gaze swung up to meet hers, she gave a knowing smile. Satisfied with her little triumph, she scooped up the pairs of socks and walked back to toss them into the suitcase. “You’re packed.”

  Michael was off the bed in an instant, his heavy shaft bobbing deeply. He kept his eyes trained on her as he lifted a foil packet to his teeth and ripped it open. He spread the condom down over his distended cock, never once losing eye contact with her.

  He backed her across the room with his body until her bare buttocks bumped lightly against the dresser. “Turn around and put your hands on the dresser, Winter.” His voice rasped low and deep.

  She swallowed, feeling excitement pooling in her stomach. Slowly, she turned her back on him. She grasped each side of the dresser top. Her earlier anger had completely dissolved, leaving only the craving that she always felt when she was with him.

  “Bend over for me, baby.”

  Winter adjusted her stance, glancing over her shoulder. Michael stood behind her, admiring her curves with that hot glitter in his pale eyes. Edging over the slope of her bottom, she could see the broad reddened head of his rigid erection. She shuddered, anticipation zinging through her veins. Her breath quickened. She faced forward again, watching the mirrored reflection of his avid expression.

  Michael reached out to palm her bottom with both hands, his fingers flexing. The heat of his spread hands branded her. “God, you have a beautiful ass.” She felt his brief kneading before he pushed the firm cheeks apart and one hand slipped down between her quivering thighs.

  She gasped when his clever fingers circled her clit and slid over her dampening pussy in slow circles. She watched in the mirror while he did it, mesmerized by the flicking movements of his strong wrist and his dipping fingers. The heat welled from deep inside of her, flushing her body. Her heart beat erratically. He was torching her body. He knew just how to do it. She became mindless with pleasure when she was with him. It was exactly what she wanted, what she needed.

  * * * *

  Michael looked up to meet her widening, dilating gaze in the mirror. “You’re becoming a cock tease. And you like it, don’t you, Winter?” He smiled when her eyes flickered away from his. With the hand lying on her hip, he pressed the pad of his thumb firmly against the tight ring of her ass, gently rimming the sensitive area with his blunt nail.

  He was rewarded when Winter snatched a quick inhale. Her eyes flew back to their mirrored reflections, colliding with his gaze. She had expressed her dislike of the idea of anal penetration. True to his word, Michael had not pushed her into anything that made her uncomfortable, but sometimes, as now, he played with her, and it was incredibly hot. He held her gaze and shifted his hand. He pushed the knuckle of his middle finger gently back and forth against her tight back channel. She fluttered another breath. He watched as her eyes slid shut, and her face tightened with pleasure.

  For a few moments, he plucked her clit while he continued to play with her ass. He couldn’t take his gaze off of her flushed reflection. She was an incredible, sublime image of warm, living erotica. Her mouth parted slightly, and he saw the tip of her tongue flick across her bottom lip. He felt his cock jerk in response. She was breathing sharply, shallowly. She bumped her hips in unconscious rhythm with the working of his hands. He took fierce satisfaction in being able to bring her to the edge.

  He abandoned her engorged clit to push a finger up into her vagina, putting pressure on the most sensitive spot. He curved his finger and firmly stroked down, once more, and again. Winter bit her lip, stifling a moan. He smiled down at her and murmured, “Tell me that you’re going to miss me.”

  Winter curved her spine helplessly. “You shouldn’t—shouldn’t ask that!”

  Michael pushed two fingers inside of her and set up a steady languorous rhythm. She was incredibly hot and slick, her juices coating his digits. His blood fired hotter. He pushed his knuckle deeper into her ass, and her rounded bottom arched up, bumping his throbbing erection. Under the slow counter-movements of his hands, she shuddered again. He gritted his teeth, pleasure and yearning clutching at his chest while he watched her. “Admit that you’ll miss me,” he whispered.

  She shook her head hard. Her thick springy curls whipped forward to hide her face. Her fingers whitened where she gripped the dresser. “No! I won’t!”

  The tightness in his chest exploded with an odd pain. He swore. He left off fingering her to grasp her hips with both hands. “Tell me that you’ll miss me! Miss this!” He shafted her deep in one long stroke.

  Winter gave a cry. She flung up her head before dropping it forward again. He rocked back then drove in again so hard that her knees banged against the front of the dresser. With a sob, she braced her elbows. He slid a banded arm tight around her waist to hold her while he took her faster. The slap of flesh was audible. He fisted his fingers in her hair and pulled up her head so that she faced the mirror.

  “Look at me, Winter!” he panted. “Look at us!”

  She opened her eyes, and their darkened gazes locked. He knew that she saw his flushed, passion-filled, wild expression while he ground into her. She saw her own face. And her expression was just as wild.

  * * * *

  Afterward, she drove him to the airport in the Lexus. He insisted that she park and come inside with him. She could go no farther than the security gate, where he set down his carry-on. He drew her into his arms to kiss her good-bye. She did not know what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t the gentle, thorough kiss that he gave her. Just like what any man would give to his wife or his girlfriend, she thought vaguely.

  She felt herself melt against him, her pliant body fitting close against his. She curled her hands around his strong neck, burrowing her fingers in the short hairs at his nape. Breathing in his crisp, masculine scent, she clung to him until he released her.

  One of his hands smoothed her riotous curls back from her face before slipping down to cup the side of her face. His thumb brushed her cheek then slipped away. “I’ll call you when I ge
t back into town,” he said softly. He bent to pick up his carry-on and briskly walked away to join the queue at the security gate.

  Cathy let him go from her without uttering a word. Her heart beat heavily in her breast. She waited and watched to be certain. He did not look back at her.

  Cathy left the aviation building and returned to the Lexus. She unlocked it and got in. She pulled the seat belt across her chest, latched it, and started the vehicle. Her hands were not quite steady. His parting words beat a rhythm in time with her heart.

  “I’ll call you when I get back into town.”

  Heaven help her, but she would be waiting.

  Chapter Fifteen

  While Michael was gone, Cathy had time to think about some things. For two whole days, she grappled with the question of what she should do about her transportation, even while she drove the Lexus and reveled in the confidence she felt that she wouldn’t have car trouble. Her choices were clear. She could continue feeling sick with worry about how to pay for her car to be repaired, a temporary fix at best if the mechanic was to be believed, or accept the use of the Lexus.

  The Lexus was a mammoth symbol of Michael’s growing impact on her life, as well as her increasing dependence on him. Accepting the means of her transportation from his hands, something so basic to survival, made her feel even more vulnerable, even more exposed.

  What if their arrangement should fall through? What would she do about getting to where she needed to go then? What would she do when she needed someone to make love to her and make her forget the burdens of her life for a little while? What would she do now, today, if she didn’t accept the use of the Lexus?

  Cathy was apprehensive of the power that he already wielded in their physical relationship. She had refused to admit how much her body would miss him, but he had known it anyway and proven it to her. Then he had underscored the lesson by the way he had kissed her when she dropped him at the airport. She had responded mindlessly, passionately.

  When he walked away without glancing back, he had once more driven home a harsh point. He held the power in their relationship. He had branded her as his as thoroughly as if he had used a hot iron on her backside. At that point, her reflections became tinged with some slight self-disgust.

  She was afraid of what else he might guess. That defining moment, when he had demanded her admission that she would miss him, had ripped through much of her self-delusion. Michael’s words had struck like a blow against her psyche. Sudden fear had splintered her. She didn’t want him to own her. He had already taken so much of her. She didn’t want him to have ascendancy over her emotions, too. Instinctively, she had known it would be a final surrender.

  She knew that she was beginning to feel something for Michael beyond their physical relationship.

  She shunned what that admission might mean to her, what it might cost her. She wasn’t ready to face those deeper emotions shimmering just below the surface of her heart. It was enough to deal with the latest symbol of Michael’s power—the Lexus.

  Cathy gave up the moral ground. She called the garage where she had been forced to leave her car and arranged to turn over the title so that the vehicle could be sold to a parts dealer. The mechanic was to receive whatever proceeds there might be. The man was not displeased with the deal she was offering him, and he agreed to waive the storage fees. Cathy ended the call, satisfied. The advantage to her was that she wouldn’t have to hassle with paying for repairs or trying to find a buyer for the worn-out vehicle or to locate another used car that would come with its own set of new problems.

  When she took the Lexus to work, the fact that she had a new vehicle generated some buzz from a few of her coworkers because many of the details of her financial situation weren’t exactly a secret. After all, the purpose of the website dedicated to her daughter was to raise funds for over-the-top medical expenses. When asked about the Lexus, Cathy said simply that her old car had become too unreliable, which surprised no one since she had had trouble with it more than once, and that the Lexus was leased. The mild curiosity was settled, without necessitating an explanation of who had actually signed the vehicle lease. Cathy was thankful when her explanation was accepted almost without question. It could easily have become very awkward otherwise.

  She discovered just how awkward when she went to lunch with her best friend, and Vicky immediately brought it up.

  “So tell me about that nice new ride of yours.”

  “I’ve already told you. It’s leased.” Cathy avoided her friend’s intent gaze by tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

  Vicky rolled her expressive eyes. “This is me, Cathy. I know you don’t have the money or the credit to lease that Lexus. So how did you get it?”

  Cathy felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach, silently berating herself for taking her friend so closely into her confidence. It was coming back to bite her. She nervously poked her fork into her Cobb salad. She couldn’t come up with anything plausible, and she tripped over a lame explanation. “A–a friend is helping me out, that’s all.”

  “What friend? Not me, I know. And I would if I could, you know that.”

  Cathy shrugged with elaborate casualness. “Just a friend.”

  Vicky regarded her with a puzzled frown. Sudden intuition sparked. Her brown eyes rounded incredulously. “It’s a man, isn’t it?”

  Cathy bit her lip. “No, of course not!” She shook her head, but she felt the telltale heat climb into her face.

  “Oh my gosh. You’re seeing someone!” Vicky exclaimed in gaping astonishment. “You’re actually seeing someone!”

  Cathy took a deep calming breath. She was feeling the slither of panic, her heart pounding heavy in apprehension. She couldn’t bear it if Vicky, of all people, should discover anything about the nature of her arrangement with the man who had provided the Lexus for her. “Don’t ask me anything. Please!”

  Strong curiosity shone in her friend’s expression. Vicky leaned forward across the table, her eyes unblinking. “But Cathy—”

  “I’m serious, Vicky! What Michael and I—Damn it!” Cathy threw down her fork. She couldn’t believe that she had been so rattled so quickly. It served her right for not thinking through her explanation.

  Vicky fell back in her chair and started laughing. She shook her head when Cathy shot a fulminating glance at her. “Oh, come on! You’ve got to see how funny it is! You just blurted out his name! And I didn’t have to twist your arm once.”

  “I can’t believe I slipped up like that,” muttered Cathy.

  “Come on, tell me! You’re really dying to tell me. You know you are.”

  Cathy reluctantly smiled. “Okay, so it’s funny. Kind of. But I mean it, Vicky. I don’t want to discuss him. I–I want to keep things private right now.”

  “I think I get it.” Vicky turned serious, regarding her curiously. “Does…Michael know about Chloe?”

  Cathy’s throat tightened. She shook her head quickly. “No. I haven’t told him. All he knows is that I’m divorced and a single mom.”

  Vicky took a moment to absorb that. “Wow.” However, she slowly nodded as though Cathy’s admission didn’t surprise her. “So I’m guessing that I don’t know him and neither does anyone else who knows you and Chloe.”

  “Right.” Cathy was barely able to gather a smile. She was anxious about what her friend was thinking. She and Vicky had known each other for years. They had always told each other everything. If one or the other had ever tried to suppress personal details, they were soon pried out. Now she was withholding something major. “You’re not mad at me, are you? I mean, for not telling you?”

  “Why would I be mad? Don’t you think I can understand? Of course I can! I can understand how you could want to be with someone who doesn’t know how hard everything is for you.” Vicky snorted, shaking her head. “I’m your best friend. How could I be mad?”

  Cathy let her breath out on a sigh. She deliberately forced her tensed shoulders to relax. Reaching across the ta
ble, she squeezed her friend’s hand. “Thanks, Vic,” she said softly.

  By unvoiced agreement, they talked about other things. Vicky wanted to know how Chloe was doing since the stem cell transplantation. Cathy’s face lit up. “She’s doing really, really well. She is still getting the immunological shots, and she hates that, but when I talked to Dr. Richards yesterday, he said that he was cautiously optimistic.”

  “That’s wonderful, Cathy! I’ll post an update on the website when I get home tonight.”

  Cathy was actually a little surprised that Vicky had so easily given way in not having her undoubtedly rampaging curiosity satisfied. But this time, strangely enough, Vicky didn’t fish for information. Then again, perhaps not so strangely, she mused. The circumstances that made up her life were so out of the whack, her best friend must want to be spared some of the drama, even if that meant allowing her to have one very tantalizing secret.

  Cathy remained on guard for several minutes. When Vicky didn’t try to pump her, she relaxed and enjoyed the remainder of their lunch together. Vicky insisted on picking up the check. As they finally were rising from the table, Vicky asked casually, “By the way, how’s the sex?”

  Cathy’s face instantly flamed. Her gaze flew to Vicky’s very-interested expression. She bit her bottom lip, more than annoyed, knowing that she had thoroughly betrayed herself. She huffed on a sigh. “This is what comes of having a redhead’s skin,” she muttered. “I am not going to dignify that with an answer.”

  “That good, huh?” Vicky’s grin was roguish, and her eyes twinkled.

  “I should kill you now,” Cathy observed.

  Vicky laughed and then hugged her. “You just have some fun. You deserve it.”

  * * * *

  For once, a phone call from the oncologist’s office was not bad news.

  Cathy couldn’t believe it. A blaze of happiness rushed through her. She set the receiver down carefully in its cradle. She leaned back in her chair, her arms braced straight out in front, her hands flattened on top of the desk. She could feel the grin stretching her face, ear to ear. She repeated the good news to herself. The results of the hematopoietic stem cell transplantation continued to look very promising. In fact, Dr. Richards had said that Chloe had responded so well to the transplant that in a few days she would be allowed to go home.