Sugar Fighter (Sugar Daddies Book 1)

by Charity Parkerson

  The way Maverick nodded and worried at his lips screamed he didn’t think Zeke was being honest. Maverick didn’t back down. “Just so you know, I’m not toying with him. I wouldn’t do that, knowing how close the two of you are. He’s a great guy. I genuinely like him. In truth, we don’t meet a lot of nice guys, doing what we do.”

  Maverick said all the right things. If it was anyone other than Korey, Zeke would be thrilled for the guy. He couldn’t do this. “I have to go.” Zeke headed for the door without any further explanation. He knew he looked crazy. Zeke wasn’t sure someone shouldn’t be calling his mental stability into question.

  He made it ten feet before Maverick caught up with him. “Zeke. Hold up.”

  Zeke turned, barely stamping down his impatience.

  “Come on,” Maverick said, slapping Zeke on the back and maneuvering him toward the door. “My sister works for Western Air. She can pull some strings and have you home before the end of the night. Maybe you can catch Korey before he gets all his stuff moved out. Then your dumb ass can tell him you love him before things are fucked up beyond all repair.”

  Zeke never considered denying it. “Am I that obvious?”

  “It’s a little sickening. Plus, you just told an arena filled with twenty-thousand people that Korey was the reason for everything you do,” Maverick said with a laugh. “I thought you’d surely break, with me all on your toes, but nope. For fuck’s sake, man. You’re one of the toughest bastards I know. Sack up and tell the man how you feel.” He paused and glanced over, meeting Zeke’s stare. His tone turned serious. “Or I will steal him. For real, he deserves better than getting strung along for the rest of his life.”

  Later, Zeke might look back and have some strong feelings of hate over this conversation. For now, all he needed was to get to Korey before he lost the man for good. Maverick had the connections to make that happen. Everything else could wait.

  There was only one night left in the house he shared with Zeke. The place felt empty without Zeke’s powerful presence. Still, Korey couldn’t convince himself to leave a second before necessary. Korey curled up in their chair. He was pissed. Fury ate at his gut and clawed at his brain. Korey wanted to scratch off his skin. Most of all, he wished Zeke hurt even a quarter as much as he did.

  At any point over the past two years, Zeke could’ve spoken up and told Korey to leave. He sure as shit could’ve done it before fucking Korey. Before wrecking Korey. Oddly, leaving Maverick behind in Vegas hadn’t been easy. Maverick was hot and fun. He was the perfect person to help Korey move on, but Korey couldn’t stand on the sidelines in Vegas and cheer for Zeke. He needed to get his shit the fuck out while Zeke was otherwise engaged. Was Zeke occupied elsewhere? Would he find someone to share his bed tonight? Korey imagined Zeke always found one or two people to fuck when Korey wasn’t around. Bastard. There was nothing Korey could do to magically transform into the person Zeke wanted him to be. He couldn’t be older, worldlier, or less fucked up. There was no chance for them. Korey hurt. Everything pained him. If he had any sense, he’d stand up now and walk away from the hell he wallowed in. Tomorrow was soon enough. When the sun came up, he’d do better.

  With that plan firmly in place, Korey headed for his bedroom. He had a few things left to pack. As he crossed the threshold into the space Zeke had given him, the air seemed to thin. He fought for oxygen. Korey sat on the bed and tried calming his racing heart. His gaze landed on the framed photos beside his bed. One stood out. Zeke and Charlie wore camo and smiled for the camera. They looked happy. Korey’s stomach cramped. He should leave the picture for Zeke. If Charlie hadn’t been straight, Korey might hate the way he’d obviously made Zeke happy. Korey always seemed to make Zeke scowl more than he made him smile.

  He picked up the frame and headed for Zeke’s room. As he set the picture on the table beneath Zeke’s bedroom window, he couldn’t release the frame. Going down on his haunches, Korey leaned his chin on his forearm and stared closer at the image. His brother’s gleaming smile stared back at him. Korey always tried hard not to think about the brother he lost. As he stared at him now, Korey’s throat swelled. The past two-and-a-half years of his life had been hell. He’d lost everyone who mattered. Now Zeke would be gone too. He couldn’t help but blame Charlie for putting him in this position.

  “I hate you for leaving me with another fucking mess,” Korey whispered. A tear slipped down his cheek. He loved his brother. The man hadn’t been perfect. He was never around. When their mom had her first stroke six years ago, Charlie had left her to Korey’s care. Somehow, Korey had pulled off taking care of everything while still managing to get an academic scholarship to Stanford. Then, their mom had passed, and Charlie had—once again—left Korey to handle everything. His brother had promised things would be better for Korey in California. He’d lied.

  After pushing to his feet, Korey took a step back and sat on Zeke’s bed. Another tear followed the first. He was so fucking tired. Korey closed his eyes and curled onto his side. He swiped at his cheeks and sniffed. Life was exhausting. Zeke had been a tiny hint of light in an otherwise dark existence. Now he was gone too.

  Korey’s car wasn’t in the garage. Still, Zeke burst through the door, praying he was there. The silence he met was beyond deafening. The house felt emptier than he could’ve imagined. Every breath he took seemed to reverberate off the walls and assault his ears. Even knowing the truth didn’t stop him from checking Korey’s room. The furniture was there, but it had been stripped bare of all personal items. The drawers and closet were empty. There was nothing left of Korey’s usual mess of products in the bathroom.

  As Zeke’s feet crossed the threshold of his bedroom, his steps slowed. A familiar picture of Charlie and him sat on the table beneath the window. Zeke recognized it as the one that had been on the table by Korey’s bed. A sheet of spiral notebook paper haphazardly torn was tucked beneath the edge of the frame. Zeke’s hand shook as he retrieved it. His eyes burned as he read.

  Zeke,

  Thank you for giving me two years of peace when I needed them the most. I’m sure your tolerance of my bullshit more than surpassed Charlie’s expectations. I’m sorry our friendship ended on such a horrible note. More than that, I’m sorry I thought we were friends while you felt you were being used. I left another check on the fridge. Please cash it. I never meant to take advantage of you. Maybe one day you’ll look back on me in a better light, but I don’t think that’ll happen if you don’t cash that check. I’m prouder to have known you than you’ll ever understand. There are too many words in my head to know how to end this, so I’ll just say, stay well.

  —Korey

  Fuck Korey for thinking he could walk away with a note. They weren’t done until Zeke said they were and that was never. After balling up the paper and tossing it on the floor, Zeke dug out his phone and headed to the kitchen to tear up another check. He would find Korey. When he did, he’d turn the boy over his knee for ever thinking any of the bullshit in that note was true.

  Maverick had passed shitfaced two hours ago and moved into a territory of drunkenness he’d never known before. He prayed he hadn’t made a mistake by helping Zeke get to Korey in a hurry. They loved each other. Someone deserved happiness, but he shouldn’t have gotten involved.

  A familiar tingle ran up his spine. Maverick fought the urge to turn his head. Zander was here. Somewhere. Watching him. Before he could catch the bartender’s eye to get another drink, Maverick found himself sandwiched between two gigantic men. His heart fell. He’d known this was coming.

  “Mr. Kapra requests the pleasure of your company,” the man to his left said. There was no hiding his heavy Russian accent.

  A snort escaped Maverick before he could call it back. “Tell Zander he can go fuck himself.”

  Something warm pressed against his back. Maverick’s eyes fell closed as the familiar scent of expensive cologne overcame him. “Why would I do that when I can fuck you?” The softly spoken question brushed the shel
l of Maverick’s ear. The two behemoths disappeared, leaving Maverick alone with the man who always crushed him. He should’ve jumped a flight with Zeke while he had the chance. Now it was too late. Maybe it always had been. His phone buzzed, saving him from acknowledging Zander. It took a moment for his eyes to focus so he could read Zeke’s text.

  Zeke: He’s gone. I need your help.

  Maverick: Give me a minute.

  In truth, he needed like five minutes to drunkenly scroll through his messages until he found Korey’s number.

  Maverick: Did you get settled?

  Korey: Yeah. I’m at Hotel 10 on Monroe in room 114. They’ll let me pay by the week until I find an apartment. Thanks for everything.

  Maverick: No worries. Keep me posted.

  Korey: Okay.

  After blinking several times at his phone, Maverick managed to copy and paste Korey’s message in a message to Zeke. With that out of the way, there was nothing left for him to do than focus on the ice-blue eyes that haunted him every second of the day.

  “Did you say something about fucking me?” If so, now was the time. Maverick was too plastered to feel. That was the only way he could handle Zander touching him.

  “That depends,” Zander said, sounding harder than usual. “Did you bring that child with you to Vegas to taunt me?”

  A thousand responses raced to Maverick’s lips, even he wasn’t sure which one would fall. All Maverick knew was there wasn’t enough alcohol in all of Vegas to drown the way he felt when Zander came around. Nothing or no one scared him more.

  Korey hadn’t made it through the night at Zeke’s. It was too hard. The man’s presence was everywhere, suffocating Korey with love he’d never have. Everywhere he’d looked, Zeke had been there. The hotel was noisy as fuck, but Korey reveled in every loud car, yell, pounding music, and slamming car door. He’d never felt more alone in the world. On his side, facing the wall, Korey stared at nothing. He wanted to feel nothing. He hadn’t cried when Charlie died. Now that Zeke was gone, Korey felt like the tears wouldn’t stop coming, as if Zeke had been the glue holding him together. He hurt everywhere.

  Korey closed his eyes and held his breath, hoping to calm the inner storm raging inside him. Warmth engulfed him. Zeke’s familiar scent surrounded him. “I’m sorry,” Zeke said against his ear. He touched his lips to the spot beneath Korey’s ear. “Please don’t leave me.”

  Korey’s throat burned. Zeke was there. He’d been so close to embracing the fact that he’d never see the man again. Korey wanted to be surprised the man had—somehow—silently broken into his hotel room, but nothing about Zeke shocked Korey. The man always got his way. It seemed there should be a million things for Korey to say. His voice wouldn’t work.

  Zeke urged Korey onto his back. Korey fought the temptation to squeeze his eyes shut against the sight of him. There was a cut under Zeke’s right eye. Korey’s fingers automatically brushed beneath it.

  “I know it’s your job, but I don’t like when you get hurt.”

  Intense emotions swam in Zeke’s gaze, making Korey’s heart race. Zeke wiped away the moisture from beneath Korey’s eyes. “You’re hurting me right now. Leaving wasn’t part of our deal,” Zeke said, his voice turning harder by the second. “You were supposed to stay. I was supposed to retire and spend my days bragging about my sexy husband the doctor.”

  Each breath came harder than the last. Korey wondered if his mind had snapped. Zeke spoke like he’d always meant for them to be together. “You said I was a mistake.”

  “No,” Zeke said with a shake of his head. “I said the other night was a mistake. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But I shouldn’t have touched you without telling you everything about me first. You deserve to be seduced and spoiled by someone you know everything about. I don’t want to steal your options. I want you to choose me even after you’ve seen all my cards and know all my bullshit.”

  “I know you.” He did. Maybe he hadn’t heard every story Zeke had to tell, but he knew him.

  Zeke shook his head. A sad smile touched his lips. “You don’t.” He brushed Korey’s hair away from his face. “Do you know how I met your brother?”

  Korey had never thought to ask. He didn’t like thinking about Charlie. “No.”

  “He was my sobriety coach. I paid him so I wouldn’t have to go to a treatment facility after I was found passed out in my car by the police.”

  “He was your best friend,” Korey argued, not wanting to hear Zeke’s life had been anything other than perfect.

  “He was,” Zeke agreed, “but not at first. In the beginning, I was his job. I tore out my knee fighting and got addicted to pain killers. Becoming an addict happened before I realized it.” Zeke’s mouth lifted in one corner. “You have an amazing career ahead of you. I’m so damn proud of you, and I don’t ever want to become an embarrassment to you.”

  Korey didn’t want to make light of Zeke’s confession, but the man hadn’t said anything he couldn’t deal with yet. “Is that all?”

  A small smile touched Zeke’s lips. “I’m fourteen years older than you.”

  Korey bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “That, I’ve known.”

  Zeke’s expression turned serious. “I’m in love with you.”

  That, he hadn’t known. Korey blinked. The hot press of tears behind his eyes threatened to overcome him again. He had to clear his throat to speak. “I’m in love with you too.”

  “I want you to come home.”

  Korey rolled from the bed. “I want you to show me the rest of your injuries. You didn’t go five rounds and end up with only one cut.” He flipped the bathroom light on, determined to see all of Zeke.

  Zeke moved fast for someone who’d already been in one fight tonight. His chest collided with Korey’s back. The man’s arms encircled Korey’s waist. “You have some questions to answer first.”

  Happiness made Korey bold. “Strip and I’ll answer while you do.”

  Zeke released him. Korey leaned against the bathroom counter, enjoying the show. He pulled his shirt up and over his head, revealing bruised ribs. “How did you know my match lasted five rounds?”

  “Maverick texted me the details.”

  Zeke tossed his shirt aside and crowded Korey against the vanity. “No more texting with Maverick.”

  “We’re friends,” Korey argued. “He talked me out of heading back to Alabama. Otherwise, I might have walked away from everything here and disappeared for good. He knows it’s you I love.”

  “Tell me you’ll come home,” Zeke ordered, letting his earlier demand go. His fingers brushed Korey’s jaw. The man made it damn hard to hold a conversation. He made a lot of things hard.

  “Tell me you love me again,” Korey whispered, needing more.

  Zeke didn’t hesitate giving in. “I love you. Come home.”

  “Only if you kiss me.” Because Korey thought he’d die if didn’t taste Zeke soon.

  “Now’s the time for you to ask for anything, and all you want is a kiss?”

  Korey amended his request. “You should also take off your pants.”

  “Done,” Zeke said before touching his lips to the corner of Korey’s mouth.

  “If you ever tell me I’m a mistake again, I’m punching you in the dick,” Korey warned. He turned his head, capturing Zeke’s lips before the man changed his mind. The man’s kiss was everything it had been the other night and more, because this time, he knew he had Zeke’s heart. Zeke’s kiss was overpowering. Korey submitted to the man’s assault. Zeke softened. Over the past two years, Korey might not have been Zeke’s lover. That didn’t mean Korey didn’t know him. He understood how to get his way with Zeke. The more he ceded to Zeke, the more Zeke melted, becoming sweeter by the second. “Pants,” Korey reminded him between kisses.

  Zeke’s hands went to the button on his jeans. Korey could’ve done it, but he wanted to watch Zeke strip. However, there was no stopping his fingers from finding the man’s a
bs before moving to the pads of Zeke’s chest. Zeke was hard all over. He was like velvet over steel. All the times Korey had stared at Zeke and fantasized about touching him rose to the surface. Zeke’s breath shuddered around Korey’s tongue as Korey skimmed his hands down Zeke’s sides.

  “Perfect,” Zeke breathed, skimming his lips from Korey’s mouth to his jaw. “So fucking gorgeous,” Zeke added, continuing to rain praise on Korey. “No one will believe you’re with me for anything other than my money.”

  A chuckle rose in Korey’s throat. There wasn’t a person alive who wouldn’t lust for Zeke’s body after a single glance. “My sugar fighter.”

  Zeke nipped at Korey’s lips but never let Korey catch him for a deeper kiss. “Always.”

  As Zeke pushed his jeans down his hips, Korey bent at the waist, chasing after him and refusing to give up the man’s mouth. A soft laugh escaped Zeke. The sound vibrated against Korey’s lips. His breath caught. “I love you.” Zeke had given him the freedom to say the words, and now Korey never wanted to stop confessing his feelings. They’d been pent up too long.

  Zeke kicked out of his clothes and came at Korey with more aggression than Korey expected. He gasped at the assault. Zeke tore at Korey’s clothes, and his teeth sank into Korey’s bottom lip. They fought to get closer—skin on skin with no barriers. When their bare chests met and then their erections bumped, they calmed. This was where they were meant to be. Zeke gently spun Korey in his arms, forcing Korey’s gaze toward the mirror. “Look at us together.”

  A sickness grew inside Korey at the reflection of Zeke holding him. His stomach cramped with need. There would never be such thing as too much of Zeke.

  “We’re perfect together,” Zeke said, stroking Korey’s stomach and heading south.

  Korey swallowed. His throat was like sandpaper. Korey held on to the counter like it was the glue holding his sanity together. Korey couldn’t look away from Zeke. His eyes couldn’t give up the sight of the sexy arms surrounding him. Everything about Zeke was cut to perfection. The man was beautiful. Their gazes met in the mirror. Pre-cum rolled down his length.