Sugar Daddy (Sugar Bowl #1)

by Sawyer Bennett

  “I think it’s a given I wouldn’t be much of a gambler,” she says as she brings her eyes to me.

  “We should go,” I say suddenly. “This weekend. I’ll show you all you need to know and then you can say you’ve experienced Vegas.”

  Sela does nothing but stare at me a moment with a blank face. Then she very carefully, very neutrally says, “This is getting a little off track, don’t you think?”

  My hand goes still against her arch. “What do you mean?”

  She pulls her foot away and raises both knees again, sitting up straighter on the couch. She wraps her arms around her shins and stares at me with worry in her blue eyes. “It’s just…as your Sugar Baby, I’m sort of here to serve you. We both know that means sex, but it also means if you want me to go somewhere with you as your date, I’ll do that too.”

  “Okay,” I say, because that’s pretty accurate, although I hate the fucking title of Sugar Baby, and I sure as shit don’t want to be thought of as a Sugar Daddy. I don’t need to fucking pay for a woman to want to be with me. “So what’s the problem?”

  “You don’t want to go to Vegas. You want me to go and experience it because I haven’t yet.”

  “Pretty much,” I agree with her, still befuddled as to what point she might be trying to make.

  Sela drops her chin to the top of one knee and I swear I see guilt-filled eyes staring back at me. “You don’t have to do nice things for me, Beck. You already gave me all I could ever hope for when you paid for my education. I don’t need anything else.”

  An intense sensation of sadness fills me now that Sela has made her point. And I’m sad because she’s exactly right. I don’t owe her anything more than what I’ve given. I certainly shouldn’t be concerned with whether or not she’s been to Vegas.

  But fuck it.

  I can’t help myself.

  “You gave me a birthday celebration,” I throw out to her. “That is totally outside of a normal Sugar Baby’s duties.”

  Sela rolls her eyes. “That was sex.”

  “No,” I say firmly as I lean forward, grab her wrists, and pull on her. She comes up to her knees and falls forward onto me when I keep pulling. “You did that because you were horrified my parents sent a generic, stamped card two days late.”

  “Well, that’s not really—”

  “And you wanted to do something nice for me. You went shopping, cooked dinner, got me a cake and a present, and the present, I have to say, was really, really good. Probably my favorite ever.”

  “But I fucked up on the raspberry,” she points out with a smile as she lies on top of me, her hands resting on either side of my chest.

  “The point I’m trying to make is that you and I do not have a conventional ‘sugarship’—I’ve got to get someone in marketing to change that name. It’s stupid as fuck.”

  “Agreed,” she says.

  “About ‘sugarship’ being stupid as fuck?”

  “Well, yes I do agree with that, but more so about this not being very conventional.”

  “So to bring this full circle,” I say as I put my hands under her armpits and drag her up my body a little higher. “I say we sort of make this whatever we want. If you want to do something nice for me, that’s awesome. If I want to take you to Vegas to show you the sights, that’s awesome too. Let’s sort of make this our own thing.”

  Sela’s eyes get soft and I realize I’ve never seen her look so tender before. There’s always a part of this woman that I feel is held in reserve. She nods in agreement with me, but then brings me slightly back to reality when she says, “At least for the next few weeks until our agreement is up.”

  I’m not sure how I really feel about that, but it’s not something to debate tonight, so I merely nod. “Until our agreement is up.”

  Chapter 13

  Sela

  Even though I’ve been in the corporate headquarters of Townsend-North Holdings once before, I’m still a bit intimidated by the grandeur of the lobby. Townsend-North is the parent company that owns The Sugar Bowl. I’m not sure what else it owns, as I’ve never talked “business” with Beck, but whatever their empire encompasses, it makes so much money that it practically oozes up out of the marble flooring.

  The other time I’d been here was to meet my “friend” Karla Gould for lunch. That was the day I’d gotten a peek inside JT’s office and imagined me driving a letter opener into his brain. Had he actually been sitting in there, I wonder if I would have been compelled to attack because that fantasy was so vivid. Just thinking about it now sends a shiver of excitement up my spine. Not the type of shiver I get from Beck. Not even close, actually, but it’s still a pleasant, tingly feeling that most certainly doesn’t turn me off.

  I walk up to the receptionist station, which looks to be hand-carved from a light-colored wood that’s polished to a high sheen with muted brushed silver accenting. The black granite top with silver flecks matches the black marble flooring that my tennis shoes squeak against. As I look down to the noisy suckers, I think for a split second that perhaps I should have dressed up to come see Beck at his office.

  But then I immediately discount it. I don’t need to impress him at this point, and besides…when he texted me about an hour ago inviting me to lunch, I was just finishing up one of my exams before fall break and didn’t have time to run back to the condo to get changed. He’ll have to accept me as is, although I did take a bit of time this morning to put a little makeup on. I find myself doing that more and more often, and only because I shamefully want to look pretty for Beck.

  Shameful indeed.

  Calling attention to myself like that.

  Today is my 16th birthday.

  I was raped.

  I think I deserved it.

  A shudder runs through me as I think about that entry in my journal, and I burn from the inside out with mortification. While I don’t remember much about what happened to me at that party—just memory flashes and, of course, medical records documenting my injuries—I do remember much of what led up to that party. The humiliation today is as strong as it was ten years ago when I realized that I brought it all down upon myself by trying to play big girl in a harsh man’s world.

  I swallow hard, give myself a mental shake to get it together, and smile at the receptionist, who is stunningly beautiful with vivid red hair arranged in an elegant chignon and peridot green eyes that glow almost eerily. Those have to be contacts.

  “Can I help you?” she asks crisply.

  “I’m here to see Beck North.”

  Clarista—I see her by her nameplate—slides her gaze down my body, taking in my casual attire and actually wrinkles her nose at me. “Let me just verify that with his secretary before I send you back. Your name?”

  “Sela Halstead,” I tell her, trying to muster confidence within myself. I straighten my spine and even throw my shoulders back so she can perhaps see my fantastic tits—according to Beck—and that they are natural, unlike hers.

  She actually turns her back on me, speaking in a low voice into the phone as she calls who I assume to be Beck’s secretary. I know her name is Linda because he told me last night that she’s the only person other than his sister who actually recognizes his birthday. He said she’s like his surrogate grandmother or something, and I find that fascinating that she works for a man who essentially peddles flesh—in a legal manner, of course.

  Clarista turns back to me and flashes a tight smile as she stands from behind the desk. “Follow me.”

  I walk behind her to a closed door with a security panel attached to the wall beside it. She pulls at a security fob attached to her waist that stays connected by a retractable chain, and holds it up to the panel. A small red light blinks once and then turns green. She opens the door, looks down her nose at me, and says, “You can head straight down this hall. Linda will meet you.”

  “I know my way,” I say, and turn from her, now actually feeling a little bit of excitement about seeing Beck. I find it strange and fas
cinating over the ways in which he’s seemingly commandeered my attention. I’ve never been excited to see a man before. I most definitely have never enjoyed sex like this before.

  And damn…last night…just sitting on the couch and laughing while we read trivia questions to each other; it was almost surreal. It was the closest I’ve ever truly come to maybe having a normal relationship with a man where conversation flowed freely and without effort.

  Putting aside the fact that he’s paid me a great deal of money to sit on that couch with him, of course.

  A woman of about sixty I’d guess steps into the main hall from an intersecting one, and I have to assume it’s Linda. She’s a little on the heavy side but is wearing a stylish pantsuit of navy blue with a blue, red, and gold checked scarf tied at her neck. Her hair is snowy white and her eyes a soft brown. She gives me a warm smile as I approach and holds her hand out. “You must be Sela. Beck told me you were going to steal him away for lunch today.”

  I’m immediately taken in by her warm affection for her boss, and as I shake her hand, I tell her, “It’s nice to meet you.”

  She squeezes my hand and then she lets her gaze slide down my body and back up again, except there’s not a hint of condescension or judgment. She smiles at me brilliantly and says, “Aren’t you just the loveliest of creatures. Beck really lucked out with you.”

  My face flames red because I don’t know that I’ve ever been paid a more genuine compliment in my life, and I’m more than a little shamefaced that if she knew my ulterior motive, she’d never think Beck lucked out with me.

  I follow Linda back down a hall, we turn down another, and I recognize the area. She leads me to a corner office, and as I peer down the corridor that runs the length of the building, I can see the corner of Karla’s desk from where I stand. JT’s office is right beside that.

  Linda opens the door and motions me in. “Beck is actually downstairs meeting with the programmers. He’s running a few minutes late but he’ll be here soon. Just make yourself comfortable.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur as I step in, taking in Beck’s office. It’s as pristine, contemporary, and minimalist as his home is. There are no personal photos or knickknacks. The decor is in black, white, and gray with some modern artwork on the walls that look like nothing more than splashes of paint in yellows, oranges, and reds.

  I wonder if the impersonal nature of his home and work space have anything to do with what seems to be the sterile familial environment he grew up in. I know my family didn’t have a lot in the way of money, but we certainly had love within our tiny house. While I was closest to my mother, who was very young when she had me, I also have an affectionate bond with my dad, which briefly got stronger right after my mom died three years ago, but then began to cool a little when he started dating again. He’s now been with Maria for a year and I expect they’ll get married soon. I don’t begrudge him that, and Maria’s nice enough, but after Mom died, Dad was all I had left and now I have to share him. That I don’t like very much.

  “Well, what do we have here?” I hear from behind me, and my skin immediately turns icy with apprehension and loathing.

  I turn around to see Jonathon Townsend standing in the doorway to Beck’s office. His hands are tucked casually into the pockets of very expensive navy tailored slacks and his eyes drop to my breasts, which fill out my vintage Pepsi long-sleeved T-shirt quite well.

  He clearly doesn’t even remember me from when I introduced myself to him almost two weeks ago. The way he’s eyeing me creeps me the hell out, and when he takes a step into the office, I have to resist the urge to bolt behind Beck’s desk.

  Get it together, Sela. You can’t be afraid of this man. You intend to kill him, after all, so you have to be comfortable in his presence.

  “I’m Sela Halstead,” I say, proud to find my voice sounds strong and not shaky like my insides feel. “We met at the mixer weekend before last.”

  He carelessly shrugs his shoulders, indicating he doesn’t remember, nor does he care that he doesn’t remember. This fills me with a low, bubbling fury, because this man raped me and yet he stands no more than five feet from me without a hint of recognition. My fingers curl into fists and the urge to attack and claw his eyes out almost causes my legs to give way.

  Townsend takes two more steps toward me, almost in a slithering fashion, and raises his eyes from my boobs to my face. He gives me what I know he thinks is a charming grin, and says, “I can’t believe I don’t remember. I’m almost disappointed in myself.”

  I hold my eyes straight on him, resisting the urge to roll them, and without a care in the world if this hurts my plans at some point. “Well, luckily I met Beck shortly thereafter, so it all worked out perfectly.”

  You scummy, motherfucking, amoral, sick evil bastard.

  Having such a huge ego and not realizing that was an insult to him, he reaches a hand out to touch me. Not sure if he’s aiming for my face, my hair, or maybe a breast squeeze, but I take a hasty step back.

  “Skittish little thing,” he murmurs, and I can see that turns him on by the sizzle in his eyes.

  Bile rises in my throat even as I go into fight mode. I prepare myself to launch a foot to his nuts if he reaches again and I even think, I wonder if there’s a letter opener on Beck’s desk I can use to finish the job, but then Beck’s voice floats over me like a protective blanket. “Sela? Everything okay?”

  I tilt my head to the right, look past JT, and see Beck striding in looking none too happy to see his partner standing there. I scurry around Townsend and my relief is evident by the now-clear shaking in my voice, “Hey…ready to go to lunch?”

  He narrows his eyes at me as he just clearly heard in my tone everything I was hoping to hide. Fear, anxiety, relief.

  His gaze snaps to JT, pinning him with hard eyes. While he’s focused on his partner, his question is to me. “What’s going on here?”

  The tension is thick and I have no clue what to say. I certainly don’t want to cause trouble, but JT just suavely chuckles and walks past both of us. “Just introducing myself.”

  Beck and I turn our bodies slightly to watch him walk to the door. JT stops just before exiting and turns to me. His gaze is lewd, directed only to me, and in a low voice he says, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Sela. I hope to see more of you.”

  My entire body shudders and I can see Beck visibly tighten next to me. Without a lick of respect to Beck’s business partner and with no care in the world if this offends Beck, I tell JT, “I wish I could say the same.”

  Beck’s head snaps toward me, but I don’t take my eyes of JT. I can’t afford to ever give him my lowered gaze or my fear, as devious as he’s proven to be, and I want him to know I am not intimidated by him.

  JT just laughs and turns to walk out the door, pulling it shut behind him. The minute he’s gone from my sight, I let out a sigh of relief and feel my shoulders relax.

  Beck threads his fingers through my hair, curling his hand around the back of my head. With worried eyes, he bends in toward me and asks in a menacing voice, “Did he do something to you?”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s just…he was coming on to me and it was pretty creepy.”

  “Asshole,” Beck snarls.

  I give a nervous laugh. “I have to say…I don’t like your partner very much.”

  “Makes two us,” he says, and I blink in surprise. Beck and I haven’t discussed JT before other than that first night we met when he told me that JT didn’t like confident women, and so I’ve never known what his feelings were. For all I knew, they were the tightest and best of friends.

  Stepping in to Beck, I press my forehead briefly to his chest and say, “Well, I’m glad you came in when you did. I was getting ready to kick him in the balls.”

  “I would have paid money to see that,” he says with a laugh, and then with a tug against my hair pulls my head from him. He tilts my face back and gives me a light kiss filled with nothing but affection.

 
It’s nice.

  Very nice.

  “Hungry?” he asks with a smile.

  “Starved.”

  “Good, let’s go.”

  Beck takes me by the hand, laces our fingers together.

  This is also very nice and I actually get a warm feeling within my chest as we walk out of his office, and Linda’s eyes immediately take notice of us holding hands. She gets almost misty-eyed as she smiles at us.

  “Get that look off your face, woman,” Beck growls, but it’s done with a great deal of fondness.

  Linda puts her hand over her mouth, looks at Beck with shining eyes, and shakes her head slightly at what she clearly thinks is a miracle going on in front of her. “I can’t help it. You two are adorable.”

  “Christ,” Beck mutters, and pulls me past her desk.

  I chuckle and give a tiny wave to Linda over my shoulder.

  When we hit the lobby, Beck drops my hand but immediately drapes his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him and laying a kiss to my temple before murmuring, “You’re going to be setting all the gossips’ tongues wagging with your visit here today.”

  My eyes cut over to the coldly beautiful Clarista, who watches Beck and me with her mouth hanging open. I can’t help it: I put my arm around his waist and step in closer to him as we walk by her desk, and shoot her a sweet smile. “Goodbye, Clarista. It was lovely to meet you.”

  Beck looks over to Clarista, squeezes me in closer. Clarista’s eyes move to Beck, almost pleading with him to tell her this isn’t happening. Beck North, the most eligible bachelor in this building, is cavorting with a girl in a T-shirt and Converse shoes.

  “I was just going to step out for a bite of lunch, but now that I think about it, I’m going to take the rest of the day off,” Beck says impetuously to Clarista. “Will you let Linda know?”

  “Yes, Mr. North,” she says, her voice completely dumbfounded.

  “Excellent,” Beck says with a grin, and then he pulls me closer as we walk out of the lobby.

  Chapter 14