Fake It For Daddy: Sugar Daddy Series 1

by Hamel, B. B.

  “I’ll give you twenty bucks cash if you can get me to this address in the next twenty minutes.” I read it out to the guy, an older man in a wrinkled shirt and black pants driving a dark SUV.

  He frowns as he punches it into his phone. “Can’t be done.”

  “Fifty bucks.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “Fifty, huh?”

  “Please. And wait for me when we get there. Another fifty to get back in the same amount of time.”

  He laughs once, shaking his head. “You’re nuts. I was about to turn this thing off and go home.”

  “Please?” I ask him. “My boss—”

  “Buckle up,” he says with a grin. “We might go to jail.”

  What follows is the most harrowing experience of my life. The man drives like an utter maniac, which is saying a lot considering everyone is taking their lives into their hands as soon as they pull out into New York traffic. He speeds through a red light, cuts through stop signs, nearly kills a guy on a bike.

  But we make it just in time. I hop out of the car and dash into a small law office on the third floor of a nondescript building. I drop the envelope on the desk of the secretary, panting and out of breath.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Excuse me?” she asks, but I’m already running off.

  Let her figure it out.

  The Uber’s still waiting for me. He’s smoking a cigarette with a huge smile on his face.

  “Fifty now,” he says.

  I groan, dig into my bag, and come up with all the cash I have. It’s just shy of ninety bucks. “I’ll make the rest up in the app.”

  He frowns. “Fine. Only because I’m having so much fun.”

  And we’re off into traffic again. I swear, he’s driving so recklessly that a nun flips us off as we speed past her.

  But we get back in time. I give him a good tip and leave him a good review as I literally sprint inside and slip into the elevator.

  I make it back into Leon’s office with two minutes to spare, completely out of breath.

  He looks up and frowns slightly. He sips his coffee casually. “This is cold,” he says.

  “It’s been an hour, of course it’s cold,” I say. “I was busy running across town for you.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “Warm it for me.”

  I take the mug from his hands. “Anything else?” I ask, wanting to murder him.

  “Fix yourself. You look like you’ve been running a marathon.”

  I nearly scream. I swear, I really nearly scream in his face. Instead, I just turn and head into the little break room to heat up his coffee in the microwave. I’m sure he’d want a fresh cup, but screw him.

  It’s the little victories.

  I don’t know why I thought today would be any easier than any other day. This is just what he does to me. He orders me around, sends me on impossible tasks, and expects me to complete them all flawlessly. When anything goes wrong, he’s overly critical. When things go right, he still finds something to complain about.

  It’s maddening.

  All the thoughts I had last night are basically gone now. All the dreams of his hands on my skin, his lips on my neck, it’s ruined.

  He’s still the same old demanding asshole.

  The rest of the day goes about the same. We’re in and out of meetings and I’m expected to transcribe it all. Fortunately this is the easiest part of my job, since I think I’m one of the last people in the world that can take notes in shorthand. At the end of the day, I find myself in his office again, taking notes as he finishes a conference call.

  When it’s over, he hangs up and looks at me. He doesn’t speak for a moment, just lets his eyes roam over me. I feel pinned and dissected and oddly excited, even though my simmering hate for him is definitely back now.

  “Tell me something,” he says quietly. “How badly do you want to kill me today?”

  I blink in surprise. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “How badly do you want to kill me? Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “I don’t want to kill you.”

  “No?”

  “No,” I say with certainty. “I just want to maim you. Maybe break a leg. Maybe just a few fingers, if you’re being nice.”

  He chuckles softly. “Nothing is going to change, little Paige,” he says. “You understand that? You’re making more money than you could anywhere else, but you’re still my assistant. You’re still going to work your ass off and do absolutely everything I ask.”

  “Even if it’s impossible?” I snap at him, suddenly losing my temper. “Getting across town like that in morning traffic was impossible, but I made it happen, you know.”

  He smiles slightly, ever so slightly. “Yes, you did. And yes, even when it’s impossible. And you won’t expect a thank you, because none will be forthcoming. Your paychecks are your thanks.”

  I stare at him like he’s gone insane. “Do you really want to treat people like this?” I ask him.

  He shrugs and spreads his hands. “We’re in a business arrangement,” he says. “I don’t want you to forget that.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re an asshole.”

  The words leave my lips before I can stop them and as soon as they’re out there I wish I could somehow reel them back in. But instead, we sit in silence as he watches me carefully, face still neutral.

  “Is that all?” he asks. “Anything else you want to say?”

  “Yeah, there is. You’re an asshole, and you’re overly demanding, and you’re impossible. And you’re an asshole.”

  “I’m an asshole. That’s pretty clear.” A hint of a smile graces his lips.

  I stand up. “I don’t care how much you’re paying me,” I say. “You can’t just treat me like cattle. Commenting on my appearance? That’s sexual harassment, you know.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “Is it?”

  “It’s unprofessional and just rude,” I continue. “I’m a person. I’ll do what you want me to do but at least treat me like a human being while you jerk me around. Oh, and another thing, you’re an asshole.”

  When I finish, I’m breathing hard like I just ran up a flight of stairs. He’s smiling, which is freaking me out, I have to admit. I kind of expected him to fire me as soon as I got started.

  Instead, he stands up. “Are you done?”

  “I guess,” I say, feeling myself deflate under his gaze.

  “Sit down, Paige.”

  He stares at me for a second and I swear my body moves on its own. I find myself seated again, back straight, hands on my knees. It’s the sort of posture I was forced to use back in Catholic School. I don’t know why I automatically fall into it.

  He steps out from behind his desk.

  “I understand I ask a lot of you,” he says gently. “But the truth is, my little Paige, you are up to the task. And now you’re being paid far more than anyone else in your position could ever dream to be paid. So I will ask the impossible of you, Paige, and you will make it happen for me.” He walks over to me and reaches down, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. “Because I own you. So long as I’m paying you this absurd amount, I absolutely own you.”

  “That wasn’t part of the deal.” I wanted that to come out strong and defiant, but instead it’s barely a whisper.

  He leans forward. I feel my lips part ever so slightly. “I’m changing the deal. You are mine, little Paige, and you will work hard. Do you understand?”

  I clench my jaw, lips closed. “I understand.”

  “Call me sir.”

  I relax my jaw, frowning slightly. “Sir?”

  “Say it again.” His voice is a whisper, nearly a croon. I can tell there’s something more happening here…

  Excitement runs down my spine.

  “You want me to call you sir?” I ask him.

  He nods once. “Right now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  My heart’s racing as he stares down at me.
I stay in my position, almost obedient, submissive. I don’t understand how I slipped into this role, but it…

  It feels good. I like calling him sir, I like the way he likes it. I can see the pure pleasure in his eyes when I use the word. I’ve been calling him sir for so long now, but suddenly it’s taking on this new dimension.

  The fake orgasm rings in my ears again. The way he looked at me, hungry, almost starving. He has that look now.

  We linger in the moment. I’m sitting submissively, hands on my knees, back straight, and he keeps his fingers on my chin. My eyes are locked on his and I swear I can feel a chill running down my spine as excitement builds between my legs. I’m afraid that if I stand right now I’m going to leave a wet puddle behind on the chair.

  Finally though, he breaks eye contact and releases me. It’s like a spell shatters and I can breathe again.

  He turns away. “I need you tomorrow night,” he says.

  “What for?” I ask him, trying to calm myself down.

  “Those papers you dropped off were for Maxime and Cerise,” he says. “They wish to discuss them over dinner and invited you.”

  I bite my lip. “Do you think it’s necessary?” I ask him. “I mean, I think the less often we’re around each other, the less likely it is that we’ll get caught.”

  He smiles slightly as he sits down. “Yes, I thought of that too,” he says. “But Maxime insisted.”

  “Okay then,” I say. I stand quickly and he nods once. His face and his expression are all business again, almost like that moment never happened.

  But it did happen. It really did. And right then, for the briefest of moments, I thought he was going to…

  To what, exactly?

  Kiss me, maybe. Bend me over the desk and spank me. Rip off my panties and slide his tongue between my legs until I screamed.

  I don’t know. All of the above, more likely.

  “Bring a change of clothes. We won’t be going home after work tomorrow.”

  “I understand.”

  “Very good. And remember.” He clears his throat. “We’re dating. We’re together. So make it seem…”

  “I get it,” I say to him, feeling that anger come back. “You don’t have to treat me like a moron. I did fake an orgasm for you pretty convincingly on short notice, didn’t I?”

  I get a flash of that look again but it’s quickly snuffed out. “Yes, you did,” he says. “You’re dismissed.”

  I bristle at that. “Good night, sir.”

  He smiles slightly. “Good night.”

  I turn and leave his office.

  God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so fucking turned on in my whole life. Well, except for last night.

  I don’t know what I’m going to do. Whenever we do this, I just go absolutely wild inside. But I still have to somehow work with the man. I can’t let this fake relationship turn into something more.

  I think he might be as worried about that as I am, just going by the way he keeps staring at me like he wants to rip my clothes off and ravage me.

  This is complicated and it’s only a matter of time before it gets even worse.

  4

  Leon

  I work Paige hard all day again, not because I really need to, but because…

  Well, I like pissing her off.

  I like seeing her squirm.

  And I like seeing her obey.

  Maybe it’s wrong, but I just can’t help myself. The girl is a burning locust of sexual energy, especially when she’s pissed off as hell, which I seem to be able to make her pretty easily. It makes me want to push her buttons so badly, just to get her all worked up…

  I shift uncomfortably. She’s alone in my office right now. It’s half past six and we’re meeting the Monacans soon. She’s getting changed into something a little more formal for the occasion.

  I’m tempted to throw open the door and take what I’ve been craving.

  But of course, I can’t do that. This is business, strictly business. Teasing her and pushing her buttons is as far as I should go, even if I want to go much further.

  She comes out a few minutes later wearing a mid-length lacy dress with a high neckline and translucent lacy sleeves. It’s a relatively conservative dress… but I swear she somehow makes it scandalous. She looks gorgeous, fucking stunning actually, and I can hardly believe that it’s the same girl.

  I smile at her, not able to help myself. “You look good.”

  “Glad you approve,” she says sarcastically. “Should we go?”

  “Let’s go.”

  I lead her downstairs, unable to stop looking at her as we ride the elevator. She shoots me this annoyed glare and I bet she thinks I’m being critical right now… but god, if only she knew that I was half hard just from that dress.

  My driver’s waiting outside and he takes us to a little restaurant in a sleepy neighborhood about ten minutes away. I help Paige out of the car and we step across the sidewalk. I hold the door for her, the consummate gentleman, and am rewarded with nothing more than a frown.

  I can’t be surprised. The girl hates me, after all, although I think I can turn that hate into something more.

  Either way. She’d better be a good actress, although judging by her last performance I think I’m in for a treat.

  The hostess leads us through the dining room into a small private room. Cerise and Maxime are already there, an open bottle of wine on the table.

  “Leon!” Maxime says. “I hope you do not mind, we started without you.”

  “Of course not.” I shake his hand then kiss Cerise on the cheek.

  “And lovely Paige.” Maxime kisses her on the cheek gently, beaming proudly. “We are very happy you could come.”

  “We know you keep your, ah, dalliance a secret,” Cerise adds, frowning at Paige and not making a move to greet her. “We are happy you could grace us with your presence.”

  “I’m happy you invited me,” she says. “Leon never wants to take me anywhere nice.”

  “Really?” Maxime says, shocked. “All the money in the world, and nowhere nice?”

  “He says it’s a risk.” She grins at me. “You’re so stingy. Cheap motels and fast food only.”

  I roll my eyes. “She’s being sarcastic.”

  Maxime laughs and Cerise just rolls her eyes and sits down. She’s smoking a cigarette and sipping her wine with a sour look on her face.

  “Funny and beautiful. I like it. Come, come, sit, let us drink.”

  I steer Paige over to a seat and get her settled before sitting myself. Maxime pours the wine and instantly starts talking.

  And he doesn’t stop talking for almost twenty minutes. That’s Maxime, unable to help himself. If there’s an audience, he’s in front of it and he’s performing.

  As Maxime goes on, Cerise keeps shooting me annoyed glares. I get the feeling that her once very warm and tender feelings toward me have gone cold and hard. It doesn’t matter though, so long as her sense of business doesn’t lose out to whatever personal slights she might be feeling.

  “Come now,” Cerise finally says, interrupting her husband as the waitress returns with a second bottle of wine and our main courses. “We must discuss business sooner or later, yes?”

  Maxime sighs. “My wife, always so impatient. Is Leon like that, Paige?”

  “Always,” she says, grinning at me. “Can’t stop thinking about business. Drives me wild.”

  “Do you think he’s thinking about business in bed with you?” he asks her with a wink.

  “Never,” she says, winking back. “I wouldn’t allow it.”

  Maxime laughs again, clearly charmed by her, and I’ve got to admit that she’s doing a good job. She’s playing into his hand, laughing at his jokes, listening to his stories, acting like he’s the most interesting man in the world. All the while she keeps touching my knee, my hands, basically acting like her world revolves around me even when her attention is split.

  I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d
say she was in love with me. She’s damn good. She’s probably in the wrong profession.

  “Business,” Cerise says impatiently. “Please. Leon, we read the papers and there are some things we wish to discuss with you.”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Maxime says with a dramatic sigh. “Okay then. Business time.”

  “I hope there’s nothing wrong.”

  “Oh, no, no, nothing major.”

  “Possibly major,” Cerise corrects her husband.

  “Details, details,” Maxime says, waving his hand to Cerise’s visible annoyance.

  “Let’s begin then,” I say.

  And Cerise takes over the show. Maxime fades back, content with eating and drinking, while Cerise goes over the finer points of the contract apparently from memory.

  This is how they operate. Maxime charms and smiles. He’s the good guy, the clown, the one that makes you comfortable. Cerise, meanwhile, is the bad guy. She’s the one that swoops in with facts and figures and slams you over the head with them. Maxime makes you dizzy, Cerise gets what they want.

  They’re a good team, I have to admit. If I hadn’t been interacting with them for years now, I might be caught off guard, but I was expecting this.

  The discussion goes on for a couple hours. Paige looks bored but attentive while Maxime drifts off at one point and snores until Cerise wakes him with a pinch.

  “Ah, zut alors!” he says, shaking his head and muttering something in French. But he doesn’t fall asleep again.

  Finally though, we reach a good stopping point. Cerise is bright and her grasp of the details of my proposal are strong. I believe most of her changes will only make my project that much better, and so when we shake hands and end the night, I’m feeling good.

  Paige looks sleepy as we step out onto the sidewalk and say good night to the Monacans.

  “Are you sure you do not want to come back to our hotel for a night cap?” Maxime presses.

  “No, I couldn’t,” Paige says, suppressing a yawn. “I have to work early.”

  “Work early!” Maxime is delighted. “He still works you hard.”

  She shoots me a conspiratorial grin. “Very hard.”

  Maxime barks with laughter. We say good night and part ways.