Sugar & Spice (Spicetopia Book 1)

by Phoebe Alexander

Marcus: I will. See you tomorrow, Your Royal Highness.

  Me: I told you, I’m not going to look like the queen outside of work.

  Marcus: You’ll always be a queen to me.

  Nine

  I pulled up to the address Marcus left for me. It was a really nice area of Naples, but then again, there were a lot of nice areas in Naples. Lots of rich people lived here. I wouldn’t be living here at all if it wasn’t where Sweetopia was located. We were in Fort Myers before, back when I worked at Barney’s.

  It got depressing sometimes to drive around and look at all the oceanfront mansions. It always made me wonder what I did wrong in life to end up on the other side of the tracks as a single mom supporting three other people working two shitty jobs. Did I royally fuck up somewhere along the way? Did I not suck the right dick? Maybe I just needed to march myself up to Mr. Sweet’s office and get down on my knees. Then maybe he’d give me a raise and a health insurance policy that actually took care of my kids instead of this bullshit they offered us.

  Who knew how much I was going to end up shelling out after River’s current hospital visit?

  Fuck. River looked so little in that hospital bed tonight. He was excited I’d brought him a new video game to play. I tried to find something educational, as usual. Boy, my kids were going to be mad when they got a little older and realized there were games out there that were purely for fun and didn’t try to teach you anything. Hey, you can’t blame me for trying.

  The breeze coming off the water blew the dress I was wearing around my knees. I felt weird, almost naked, showing up at Marcus’s door with my legs bare. He’d never seen them. And I’d worn my hair down. He was probably going to freak when he found out I had rather mousy, nondescript brown hair and not the lovely, long raven locks of my Red Velvet Queen wig.

  I took a deep breath and depressed the doorbell outside condo #4. Each building had four units, and his was on the far right next to the golf course’s hole #9. I’d spent a little longer at the hospital than I’d planned, and now it was 7:30. Oops. I promised my mom I’d be home by nine. It didn’t look like that was going to happen unless we made this date super fast.

  “Jolie!” Marcus exclaimed as he swung the door open. He just stood there for a moment, his mouth hanging open as he took in the image of my real, true self.

  I waited for him to say something, anything. He looked only slightly different: no pink polo shirt but a black t-shirt instead. It had a V-neck and was fitted around his biceps just like his work uniform was. His hair was the same. Same glasses. Yeah, he was pretty much the same outside of Sweetopia.

  “Wow,” he stammered, and I couldn’t tell if it was a good wow or a bad wow.

  I was afraid it was a bad wow. I was too different. I wasn’t his fantasy any longer. I had ruined it.

  But before I could dwell any further on my abject failure, he swept me into his arms, threading his fingers through my real hair as he drew me into his embrace. His lips crashed into mine, leaving me breathless and my mind hopelessly blank.

  He pulled back, his hands on my shoulders as his gaze bounced between my eyes. “Jolie...I don’t know what to say...”

  “Me either.” Truer words had never been spoken.

  “You look different, but even more beautiful than I could have imagined. I like it.” His lips cracked into a smile. “No, I love it.” The way his eyes continued to wander down my bare arms to the smocked bodice of my sundress and then down to my hips where the fabric billowed out in the evening breeze coming off the water sent tingles up and down my spine.

  “Are we going somewhere?” I squeaked out, feeling nearly naked under his intense stare.

  But it was different than I expected. Not judgmental. It was a stare of appreciation. Adoration. I never expected him to look at me with even more desire than he did when I was in costume, but here he was proving me oh so very wrong.

  His fingertips grazed my bare shoulder, the touch burning through me like his fingers were made of flames. I shuddered, and, to my surprise, it elicited the softest, deepest moan, rumbling up his throat like distant thunder.

  “I have to be honest with you, Jolie...” His words trailed off as he locked his eyes on mine. “I don’t want to go anywhere...”

  “You don’t?”

  He bit his lower lip as he shook his head. “No, I’m starving, but all I can think about eating is you. Every. Last. Delicious. Inch.” Between each word he planted a kiss along my neck and chest till my knees began to give way, and I fell back into his embrace.

  How could he make me this crazy? How could he shift all my stress, all my pain into the deepest corners of my mind and bring my body to the forefront, making every nerve stake its claim over me under his unwavering gaze and passionate touch?

  “I’d be okay with that,” I managed. Eating actual food was the furthest thing ever from my thoughts at the moment. “I can’t stay that long, though...”

  He didn’t question the time limit I was trying to impose; he only reached up to slide the thin strap of my sundress down my arm. “Your skin is so smooth...so beautiful. I really want to see the rest of you.”

  I held my breath and gave a little nod. Permission acquired, he began to lift the dress up over my head. I was wearing a strapless bra underneath, and I watched his gaze immediately fall to my ample breasts rising and falling in their lacy confines. I hoped his attention would stay there instead of lingering on my stretch marks and the slightly sagging skin around my middle. Not to mention my wide hips and thick thighs, which were so expertly concealed in the ballgown I wore as The Red Velvet Queen.

  “Breathtaking,” is all he said as he moved in a circle around me, pressing soft kisses to my shoulders and moving my hair out of the way to brush a kiss against the back of my neck. I shivered as he made his way back to stand in front of me. There was something so reverent in his gaze, worshipful. I couldn’t believe that the real me seemed to be meeting his expectations. Maybe exceeding them.

  I might as well let my true self out. I was no wallflower. I was a Domme, for fuck’s sake. Not some shy, demure virgin. If I was going to show him my true self, I should show him all of it. Nothing held back.

  “Have you ever been with an older woman before?” I asked, my courage ramping up.

  What’s the worst that could happen? I asked myself. That was usually a dangerous question to pose, and I had suffered the curse of that naïve nod to optimism more than once, but in this case it was clear he was drinking me in, loving everything his gaze and fingers and mouth stumbled upon.

  “No. Never.” He glanced up to see my reaction. “Clearly an oversight on my part...but maybe I was waiting for you.”

  Between being a Domme and The Fucking Red Velvet Queen, I was going to own all of this. I was a curvy force to be reckoned with, and I vowed to stop worrying about the women Marcus had been with who were his own age. Fuck that. I wasn’t getting any younger. And I sure as hell wasn’t getting skinny...

  “So you like what you see?” I confirmed, my eyes resting against his expectantly.

  “Like?” He shook his head. “No, I fucking love it.” He took my hand and twirled me around. “You are a masterpiece, Jolie. Who needs to study sculpture in Greece when you have a true goddess standing right before you?”

  “Greece?” I eyed him curiously.

  He laughed and waved his hand to brush off my concern. “I’m going to Greece next week...”

  “You are?” I squinted at him. I thought he was a poor college graduate trying to get a real job and make a living. I was just starting to really like him, and he was already leaving the country? That seemed about par for the course.

  “Yeah...uh...graduation present from my parents,” he explained.

  “So you’re coming back?”

  “Of course I’m coming back.” He laughed again. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Well, you’re not American. And you’re a temp.”

  “Right. Well, I’m going to finish out the summer at lea
st.” He smiled to reassure me. “Do you really want to talk about work?”

  I finally had her right where I wanted her, and she was going to grill me about work? What the fuck? I clearly needed to turn up the charm. Though I should have been taking the opportunity to glean some useful intel for my parents, I couldn’t deny that I was about zero percent interested in my undercover boss gig at the moment and one hundred percent interested in giving this gorgeous creature multiple orgasms.

  “No, I don’t want to talk about work,” she confirmed. Her lips set into a thin line as her stare heated up in intensity. “What I want to do is strip you down and see what you look like under all those clothes.”

  Now we’re talking! “Well, no one’s stopping you...”

  She bit her lip as she stepped toward me, a seductive swing in her hips, which I could fully appreciate now that she didn’t have seven hundred layers of material covering them. She grabbed the hem of my black t-shirt and lifted it up. I shrugged out of it and left the whole thing in her hand in the span of about two heartbeats—she seemed impressed by how quickly I made that happen. Then her fingers went to work on my pants, which she deftly unbuttoned and unzipped before sliding them down my thighs.

  I stepped out, and there I stood before her in all my glory, nothing but a tight pair of black boxer briefs hugging my swelling erection close to my body. All I wanted to do was unleash that beast and have my way with her, but we were finally alone, really alone, and we could take our time. Savor each other.

  Savor each other? Where the hell did that come from? Cy Sweet was not a savoring type of lover. He was a get in and get off type of guy. Sure, I liked making my partner come too, but not if it took forever. There was definitely a statute of limitations on orgasms.

  But Marcus Young had an entirely different M.O. All Marcus wanted to do was make this beautiful goddess come over and over again, on my tongue, with my fingers, around my cock. And though I wanted to feel bad about being Marcus tonight and not introducing Jolie to Cy, I knew she probably wouldn’t like Cy nearly as much. Hell, I was starting to prefer Marcus over Cy, myself.

  “Goddamn,” she breathed out as she stared at my cock, her breasts heaving in her lacy black strapless bra. Her gaze unwavering, she pointed to the bed. “Go lie down.”

  My eyes jerked to hers. “What?” She was giving me instructions? Oh, hell no.

  A devious smile twisted the corners of her lips up. “Yes. Go lie down if you want your cock sucked.”

  I reached for her hand, which she willingly gave to me. A split second later I had jerked her forward to stand in front of me, and with two hands on her shoulders, I pushed her down until her knees hit the carpet. She grunted in surprise, but when she looked up at me, I could see the fire sparking in her amethyst eyes.

  “I’m giving the orders here,” I assured her as I lowered my boxer briefs down my thighs, allowing my monstrous cock to spring out into her face.

  Her tongue darted out, but I jerked her head back, fisting her shoulder-length brown hair in my hand. She was clearly not accustomed to following orders. Her nostrils flared, and she slightly winced when I tightened my grip.

  “Do you want to suck my cock, Jolie?” I questioned, forcing her to lift her eyes to me with a finger under her chin.

  “Yes,” she simply responded.

  “Open your mouth.” I waited for her to do as I told her, and when she did, I eased the tip between her pink, plump lips. I was used to seeing her face painted with thick layers of makeup, but I preferred her like this, a slight flush on her cheeks and just a hint of mascara bringing out her thick lashes. There was something more organic about this look, something hotter, more primal.

  I could tell by the way her eyes watered that she wasn’t used to taking a cock as big as mine down her throat. I was as gentle as I could be, but damn if those sweet, juicy lips and tongue working my aching shaft didn’t make me want to ram it down fast and hard. “That’s it, Jolie, you are a magnificent cocksucker.”

  “Mmmmmm,” came garbled out of her mouth as she closed her eyes and concentrated on making long, deep strokes up and down my throbbing manhood. Seeing her like that, so raw and vulnerable, only made me want to return the favor. I reached down to hook my hands under her armpits and pulled her off my cock, lifting her until her feet hit the floor.

  “What are you doing?” she rasped, her eyes popping open in confusion.

  I heaved her over my shoulder before plopping her down on my king-sized mattress. “I want to taste you too,” I explained, and her eyes fluttered half-closed and she sucked in a sharp breath as if the sound of my words oozing out had struck her right in the clit.

  I pulled her on top of me, digging my fingers into the fleshy globes of her voluptuous ass as I positioned her pussy right over my mouth. She wasted no time wrapping her lips around my cock again, taking it even deeper than she had on her knees. I could barely breathe as she ground her hips into my face, taking what she needed from my lips and tongue while soft moans escaped around my shaft.

  I was able to get enough air in my lungs to instruct her, “Come all over my face, my queen.”

  Her fingers grasped my thighs as she took me even deeper, enough that she gagged on me as she continued to fuck my face. I couldn’t believe how ridiculously hot it was for her to writhe against me, her gorgeous curves undulating as her pussy began to gush hot, sweet juices into my hungry mouth. Not once did she break suction on my cock, and I swore I wasn’t going to come, but as soon as I felt her walls squeezing the two fingers I’d shoved up her tight channel, I completely lost my resolve. My seed rocketed up my shaft and exploded out the head of my cock just as she tightened her lips around it, and as my balls drained every last drop they held down her throat, she sucked me dry.

  Our bodies both wound down, our orgasms gradually fading along with our moans and racing hearts. I moved out from underneath her, pulling her to rest in the crook of my arm as my other hand stroked down the hourglass curve between her breasts and ass.

  I couldn’t believe how beautiful she was lying here in my arms. Usually after I came, I had to force myself to stick around, to cuddle with my partner. But in this moment, something deep inside of me was begging to never let her go.

  “That was—” she finally attempted to speak.

  “—just the beginning,” I finished her sentence, guiding her hand between my legs where my cock was beginning to swell again at the idea of filling her sweet pussy.

  “I can’t stay much longer,” she sighed, her voice tapering off to a whisper as the words spilled out.

  I didn’t answer her, instead flipping her onto her back and sliding between her thighs, which parted to accept me. She didn’t really want to leave. That much was abundantly clear. I reached for a condom from the drawer in my nightstand, and she watched me roll it down my shaft with a hungry look in her eyes.

  As she lay there, wild and wanton, I thought about the threats my parents had given me the night before. They wanted me to pump her for information. The thing I wanted to pump her for was as many orgasms as I could deliver.

  There was no way I was ruining tonight with any talk of Sweetopia. Not a chance in hell. I was finally getting to savor the spicy side of The Red Velvet Queen, and I was not about to fuck that up.

  The only thing I would be fucking tonight was Jolie. Maybe I’d feel differently in the morning, but for right now, I was living in the moment.

  Ten

  The next morning, I didn’t have the panicked, jolt awake in bed when my alarm goes off kind of morning. Instead, the sun wiggled its way past the blinds and gently coaxed my eyes open. I looked around, my consciousness slowly grasping the fact that it was Saturday, and I didn’t have to go to work.

  That was another thing I had to fight with the Sweets about: weekends off. I negotiated two weekends off a month in the summer. During the school year, the park was closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, so those were my weekends. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than them expecting me
to be there every damn day. It was like they thought they’d hired a robot instead of a real, live human being.

  I balked at my evil overlord bosses being my first thought of the day. Instead, I let thoughts of Marcus and our date the night before crash over me like a tidal wave, sweeping away all the negative thoughts. Oh, yes, that is much better. I saw flashes of his hands pressed into my skin, his mouth grazing my nipples, and a deep, satisfying soreness reminded me of his massive cock driving into me on repeat.

  It was completely breathtaking.

  Last night it took all my strength to fight the urge to collapse in his arms after our romp and drift off to sleep in his warm, safe embrace. I had to get back to the hospital, where I stayed with River until after midnight before returning home to my bed. I would go back and see my little man later today.

  My phone buzzed on my nightstand, sending an adrenaline rush racing through me. Through bleary morning vision, I entered my passcode and pulled up the text message, which immediately made me smile.

  Marcus: Wish you were waking up next to me.

  I didn’t send it, but my first thought was Oh, I do too, my sexy man. There was no way I could explain how much I wished I were waking up next to him, but that would have meant shirking my responsibilities as a mom. And I couldn’t do that. I didn’t know how to tell him that my son had cystic fibrosis. Not to mention the small fact of my second job. What would he think if he knew I beat old men’s asses for money?

  Before I could reply, he sent another text: What are you doing today?

  Sigh. I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth. Not over text. Going to the hospital to see River. Hanging out with Reed. Session with a new client, Peter Swain. I was going to be busy from the moment I crawled out of bed until the sun set.

  I settled on: Oh, you know, Mom stuff.

  Marcus: Any time for me? Even just coffee or a drink? I feel bad that I didn’t actually take you out last night.

  Me: I’ll have to check with my mom. For sitting, you know.