Please remember that for future use.
I will not meet you tonight, but I ask that you accept my invitation to lunch tomorrow.
I’ll message you the details later this evening.
Don’t be late.
Beau Carter
She had no idea what her reply had done.
I was aroused by her refusal. Hard as steel for the line about being new to this.
Heaven help this girl.
I’d play her game, but win the war.
Game on.
SIX
Beau
“The nerve of that man.” Running a hand through my hair, I pulled on the ends in frustration.
“Dick pic or obnoxious?” Zoe asked from her perch on my bed the morning after we’d set up my account. She looked so out of place. Nothing like the well-put-together chick from school; she was in sweats and an old tank top, having spent the night. “Bet you twenty bucks it was both. Am I right?”
My mature reply, I flipped her off. “Shut up.”
We were eating breakfast from a bagel place down the street while she helped me navigate the mass of messages I’d accumulated since last night. Not even twelve hours into my sugar baby journey, and I was overwhelmed.
Felt like cattle on display for the highest bidder. As if I had “fresh meat” tattooed onto my forehead.
So far, I had looked at ten invites to connect, and all were creeps.
Three pictures of small dicks offering a good time.
One serial clinger who’d begun to plan our wedding.
And six pompous I own everything jerks.
All wrong and turned me off. If I was to be someone’s “baby” for a year, I wanted to at the very least not be repulsed by the thought of their touch. Kiss.
“Demanding ass is more like it.” Looking at his profile picture, I couldn’t deny this man was hot. Sexy in that I’m a brooding jerk sort of way. “I’d prefer looking at his cock than the message sent.”
Zoe placed her food down and crawled up to the headboard where I was sitting. “That sounds like potential to me. Let me see...” She turned my laptop to face her and let out a whistle. “And I am officially hating on you right now. He’s handsome and rich. Perfect embodiment of what all babies want.”
“He’s too hot to be on this site.” My green eyes left his face and focused on hers. Didn’t like what I saw. The way she stared at him, as if calculating.
Mine.
Where the hell had that thought come from? No. Not mine. Nothing more than a potential match.
“Quit looking at me like that.” She laughed while raising a hand up. “I’m matched and happy. No poaching, I swear. Just admiring.”
Couldn’t fault her there, no matter how much it seemed to bother me. There was just something about his direct approach—the demand that we meet—that was pulling me in.
Hendrix Parker stood out from the rest.
Raising a brow, I didn’t acknowledge her “poaching” comment. “Seems fishy to me, Zoe.”
“Why?”
“He’s too hot to be single.” I shrugged.
“You’d be surprised how many hot men join these sites. It’s easier to know someone’s motives than going in blind.”
“And traditional doesn’t afford that?”
“Not going to dignify that with an answer, Beau. Look at your friend Ruby for example...” the look I gave her made Zoe a bit defensive “...wasn’t going to bad-mouth the girl. Give me some credit.”
“Sorry, please continue with what you were going to say.”
“She’s back with Max and benefits from being his girlfriend. Does she not?” Solid point, and Zoe knew it. Trip to the family summer home planned, automatic invitation to all the parties he’d show up at—best seats for all the games next season while she was on his arm. “They want beauty, and us, financial security. Everything is on the table. No surprises.”
“Okay, I get it.”
“Then answer him before someone else does.”
Dammit, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. How many women was he talking to?
“What do I say? Wouldn’t it scream desperation to reply that fast?”
“Depends on his wording.” Reaching toward the end of the bed, she picked up her latte, and then sat back down next to me. “Read it to me.”
Looking at his message, I read it once more. “Just that he demands my presence tonight at some place called Zuma—” Zoe made a sound of approval at the back of her throat. “What?”
“Good taste. Food there is fantastic.”
“Woman, pay attention!”
“You’re freaking out for no reason, Beau.” Grabbing one of my pillows, she tossed it at my head. “Just answer him as you would any man that approached you as he did. Just be tactful.”
I smoothed my hair back while contemplating all the ways I could tell him to go to hell. How fast to get there.
But do you want to? Didn’t know.
“Tactful...I can do that.” My fingers flew over the keys, countering his offer; reminded him that this was on my terms. “There.” I sat back, mimicking Zoe’s relaxed posture.
The ping of his reply caught me off guard, and I almost fell off the bed.
“Looks like someone’s a little eager.”
“Is that a good thing or bad?” I asked, and she knocked her shoulder with mine. Didn’t reply, instead, she tilted her head toward my laptop. “Fine.”
One click to the icon, and I was smiling. Almost giddy.
From: NotOneForGames
To: HigherEd-CoEd
Date: Mon at 9:44 a.m.
Subject: You win...
Name the time and place, nymph. Must be today, though. I insist.
Hendrix Parker
Holyshit.
Zoe smacked my arm. “Answer him back, dork. Let him know the when and where.”
“Ummm?” I looked at her with pleading eyes; I had no clue on where to go. There was no way in hell that man would eat at some dive with me.
Heck, his bio alone was intimidating enough and making me rethink the entire situation. Why would he be interested in a financially drowning college student?
From: NotOneForGames
To: HigherEd-CoEd
Date: Mon at 9:46 a.m.
Subject: Or better yet...
Meet me at Tap42 at 1p.m. and don’t be late.
We have much to discuss, Beau.
Hendrix Parker
“Guess he took care of my mini meltdown for me,” I muttered, not quite knowing how I felt about that. There was something sexy about a man that took charge, but this situation called for me to keep myself level-headed.
Hendrix, no matter how handsome he seemed from his profile picture, wasn’t following the rules.
“Stop moping or second guessing, Beau. At the very least, the guy is hot. You’ll have a great lunch and if it doesn’t pan out...bye bye, hottie.”
She had a point, and looking at his picture once more solidified it. I’d have a nice lunch with a man that personified tall, dark, and dangerous to my ovaries.
With jet black hair in a slight pompadour style, a square jaw with a nice five o’clock shadow, and tiny smirk on his full lips...the man was sinful.
But it was those light hazel eyes my own came back to time and time again. There was something there beneath the slight crinkles around his orbs that pulled me in.
Made me curious.
Without rational thought, my fingers danced over the keys and I hit send before chickening out.
From: HigherEd-CoEd
To: NotOneForGames
Date: Mon at 9:50 a.m.
Subject: If you insist...
Since you insist, I’ll be there. See you soon.
Beau Carter
“Now we just need to check one last item on your list...”
Looking over at Zoe beside me, I raised a brow in question. “What now?”
“What to wear.”
“Ah shit.”
“Yu
p.” Her grin grew and I fidgeted, something she found hilarious.
“Should I be scared? And stop grinning like that!” Grabbing the throw pillow behind me, I smacked her in the face. “That Cheshire smile is creepy.”
“This one,” she said while pointing at her face. At my nod, the expression grew, and I moved away from her and then right over the bed.
“Son of a…Jesus!” I’d landed dead smack on my right ass cheek and the edge of a hardback book, no less. “That’s going to bruise.”
“Oh my God!” Cackling like a demented shrew, the bitch laughed at me while I lay in pain on my floor. “Can’t breathe.”
“Quit laughing and help,” I snapped while she bit her cheek, extended a hand out, and then proceeded to crack the hell up all over again. Raising a hand up, I flipped her off while attempting to at the least sit up from my position and pull the book from underneath my butt.
“Never a dull moment with you, chick. I love it.” She was wiping the tears from her eyes. “Can you come live with me? It’d be like free entertainment twenty-four hours a day.”
“Ha...ha...ha.” Took me a minute to stand, but when I did, it hurt. “This has to be a sign. An omen.”
That sobered her hyena butt up; she narrowed her eyes. “You’re going.”
“Is there a finder’s fee for you in this?” Before I could protect myself, Zoe flicked my forehead hard. “Quit it with the abuse.”
“Then stop being stupid and get up. We got work to do here.” Scooting to the edge of the bed, she stood up and over me. With a long acrylic nail, she pointed—sized me up before walking to my small closet.
“Doesn’t take that long to get dressed.”
“We only have a few hours to get you ready.” Ignoring my whine, she opened the doors and flipped through a few items before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “Are we going with a slutty or innocent look?”
“How do I continue letting her talk me into these things?” I muttered under my breath while walking toward Tap42’s entrance. My hands pulled on the short skirt of my dress, careful not to expose too much up top.
I was stuck for the next hour or two in an innocent-meets-slutty look which Zoe declared only I could pull off.
She dressed me in a simple, off-white strapless summer dress that reached a little above mid-thigh. The outfit was cute with a lace overlay which added to the soft innocent look she wanted to achieve. Add in a brown belt around my waist, the tan wedges she put me in, my red lips, and I looked trendy with a sexy edge.
Problem was that my legs were on full display and so was half my chest. My C-cups were barely contained in this, but I’ll admit that I looked good.
“Welcome to Tap42,” the man at the hostess stand called out the moment I stepped inside. His tone was that of someone bored, until he looked up and met my eyes. From head to toe, I was checked out and I felt uncomfortable. “For one? Or are you waiting for your party to arrive?”
“She’s with me,” a deep, masculine voice declared as his arm wrapped itself around my waist, pulling me back against a very defined chest. “Reservation under Hendrix Parker.”
My first thought was to move away or elbow this man in the balls, but my body betrayed me. Acted without my consent and leaned back. Let his masculine scent, a mixture of cedar with just a hint of citrus, cloud my judgement.
What the hell is wrong with me?
With difficulty I stepped away, putting a bit of separation between us, and looked back. “Jesus.”
His photos did not do him justice.
Tall, dark, and my kryptonite would be putting it mildly.
I was so screwed.
“It’s Hendrix, sweetheart.” His smile was devilish with a slight upturn of his top lip on the left side. “But you may call me Mr. Parker in private.”
My thighs squeezed together, and his eyes caught the slight movement. Appreciated the view while I tried like hell to find an excuse—any reason—to leave.
He was out of my league.
A cough pulled my attention from his honey-colored eyes and toward our annoyed hostess. “Your table is ready. Please follow me.” He walked away, and I followed like a lamb being led to its slaughter.
Two steps forward, and Hendrix placed his hand at the small of my back. Low enough that his pinky finger flexed over the swell of my right cheek.
I faltered in step, and he chuckled.
Leaned in low enough that his lips skimmed the shell of my ear. “Watch your step, Beau. I wouldn’t want you to fall.”
SEVEN
“So, tell me a bit about yourself,” I asked. We’d just ordered our food, and the silence was beginning to make me uncomfortable in a hyperaware kind of way.
Everything about this Hendrix Parker was killing my resolve to stay poised and not let him run this meeting. He was a heady concoction.
How he looked at me.
His masculine scent and the way it violated my senses.
The casual way he smirked each time I was caught checking him out.
“I’m sure you already know who I am.” Hendrix sat back in his seat and raised a brow. Appraised me. Dared me to refute his claim.
Cocky much? And while that normally would annoy me, it worked for him. Made him a bit more desirable.
Women were attracted to men that were trouble, and I wasn’t immune to that syndrome.
Especially not dressed as he was in a pair of tailored navy dress pants that were molded over the lower half of his over six-foot frame. The moment he ushered me into my seat, I’d raked my eyes over every delicious inch and didn’t miss the bulge under his zipper.
Above, he wore a pinstripe shirt in a combination of maroon, blue, and white with a slim tie in the same tint of red around his neck. On his wrist was a thick gold watch.
But it was the rolled-up sleeves that did me in. How could forearms be this sinful?
Clearing my throat, I brought my soda up to my lips and took a sip. “I’m sorry, but to be honest with you, Mr. Parker...I have no clue who you are.”
“Hendrix, please, and I find that hard to believe.” His hazel orbs narrowed, his intensity causing me to fidget. I felt his eyes sweep over me, a gentle caress across my collarbones and the top of my breasts that made me nervous. “Everyone in this city does.”
Statement.
This man wasn’t hiding his status or the position of power he thought he wielded. Maybe that was part of the sugar daddy allure. His way of telling me he could provide what I needed.
A few beads of sweat rolled down the back of my neck, and I felt flushed. Reality was setting in. How I was about to sell myself to pay for my education.
It weighed heavy on my heart.
“I don’t.” It came out low, a whisper, but he heard. The twitch of his lip told me as much.
“Lying isn’t the best way to start our negotiations, Beau. No need to be shy.”
“Well, it’s the truth,” I said, and then licked my bottom lip. They felt dry all of a sudden.
“You should.” Hendrix’s eyes followed the movement. Hooded, his pupils were slightly dilated. Leaning forward, he reached a hand out toward mine and skimmed a single digit across my wrist, and goose bumps broke out across my arms.
“Should I be worried?” Part of me already was. This was moving into a territory I wasn’t ready for just yet; his gentle touch was unsettling.
“What if I’m a psychopath, Beau?” And damn him if I didn’t love the way my name rolled off his tongue. “Beautiful little girls like you should know better than to meet up with strangers.”
Chest expanding—nostrils flaring a tiny bit—he let out a hum from the back of his throat that made every muscle in my body tense. Pleasurable, it was as if he were breathing in something arousingly pleasant. Approved of my scent.
Fast and crazy, I was perturbed by my reactions to him. That little girl comment came out condescending, and yet, I was more concerned with the direction things were heading.
“Are you a psycho
path? Should I be scared?” My nipples were hard beneath the top of my dress, rubbing against the fabric with each inhale of my own. They throbbed each time his eyes swept down, appraising me once more.
Since the moment we were seated, I’d gulped down my soda, avoided eye contact—as much as I could without seeming rude—and clenched my thighs a total of eight times.
This man was the definition of dirty, hot sex.
Confident.
Powerful.
Someone who knew what he wanted, and at the moment, his attention was on me.
“Terrified.”
“Why?” And damn if my voice didn’t come out breathless. “Why should I be?” What is wrong with me? His chuckle pulled me from that thought. The calculating man sitting across from me seemed amused now, his features softening. “What? Something on my face?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“You’re a breath of fresh air, Miss Carter. Perfect for what I need.” As soon as those words passed through his lips, he sobered, and a guarded expression overtook his features. What sat before me now was a businessman, and the boyish grin from a minute ago became a memory. “My proposition will be beneficial to the both of us.”
“Who ordered the Prohibition?” A waitress came to the table then, interrupting us. Hendrix pointed toward his side of the table and she placed his large burger before him. “And here are your lettuce wraps, ma’am. Need anything else?”
“Refill, please.” I pushed my empty glass toward her, and she nodded with a smile before walking away. Looking back toward my lunch date, I opened my mouth to speak—ask him to lay out his request before I did mine, but he held a hand up to stop me.
“Eat first. I’ll explain how this will all work afterward.” Nothing else was said; Hendrix picked up half of his massive sandwich and took a bite. For a few minutes all I did was watch him eat; enjoyed the way he would savor each morsel and then how his Adams Apple would bob while he swallowed. “Eat.”
Craving Sugar Page 5
