Sugar Daddy Sweetheart

by L. Nicole

  Gulping down my drink, I let out a small laugh. “I guess I know how to make an impression, after all, huh?”

  “Darlin', you made a massive impression on me the first time I saw you,”

  “By spilling coffee on you?” I mutter, realizing I just keep acting like an idiot around Jack.

  “That’s not the first time I saw you, baby girl,” he purrs and the endearment he uses makes small bursts of pleasure explode inside of me.

  “When did you first see me then?” I ask, unable to look away from his dark gaze.

  “About a half hour before I came into your shop. I saw you through the window at McKenzie’s.”

  I can’t help but wonder what he thought when he saw me. I mean, he came over to the shop, so it had to be good. I want to ask, but I’m scared. I don’t truly have the courage to do what I’m about to do—but I force myself, blaming the wine.

  “So,” I murmur. “Do you think you could help me with my problem?”

  “Are we still talking about your virginity?”

  “Oh God,” I mutter. “I’m sorry, I mean you’re hot and I like you, like a lot, but I didn’t mean to be such a spaz. I get that I approached this wrong and that you don’t really want to be with me like that. I mean why would you? You’re you and I’m me. But see, I pulled this off as an excuse to come see you. I… could you help me put it back? After that, you can forget you ever met me.”

  “That’s the last thing I want to do, Brandi,” he answers, leaving me confused.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JACK

  WHAT IN THE actual hell was going on? I couldn’t understand it. Brandi Kelly shouldn’t be here in my living room half-drunk on wine, while going on and on like a mad woman. Just watching her slug down the wine had given me a jolt of pleasure that made me feel younger than I had in years. I wanted her more than ever despite whatever crazy things came out of her mouth.

  I’m fast getting in over my head and soon there will be a point of no return—for either of us. Examining the part that she gave me, I pondered my options. I could agree to fix the furnace and let that be the only thing between us. I really wanted to say yes, my whole body cried out for me to say yes. Yet, I knew I should say no. I just don’t think I have the strength for that.

  It would also leave Brandi free for another man to touch, another man to claim. Jealousy bloomed inside of me with the force of a hurricane. I didn’t want another man to have her. I couldn’t even fathom the idea. I pretend to study the piece in my hand, turning it this way and that. This is a conversation that we needed to have when Brandi was fully sober. I couldn’t live with myself if I claimed her, only to have her sober up and have regrets. That would kill me.

  “Brandi,” I sighed at last, “maybe you should go, and we can talk about this later—when we’re both ready.” I regret the words the instant I say them, but I know I have to get control of this situation. I need to make sure where Brandi’s head is before we go any farther. That is something best done with clear heads—and hopefully, unaching cocks.

  She leans over and puts her now empty glass on the table before looking up at me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, sure,” she says. “I'll go and leave you be. Sorry to have dropped in without an invitation.” She bites her lip, pushing me to an edge that I truly fear falling over. “I'll see you around sometime, Jack.”

  “I promise you that you will,” I tell her, wondering why this feels so wrong. I’m doing what is best for her. Right? “I'll come by in a little while and put this back on your furnace.”

  She nods, a strand of copper hair falling across her eyes. “You don’t have to. I have a number to a heating and cooling place that can work me in quickly.”

  My fingers itch to touch that strand and smooth it back into place. I want to caress her face, claim her lips in a kiss… Hell, my whole body yearns for hers.

  “I want to fix it,” I respond, and I’m talking about more than the furnace. I’m thinking about the issues between us. “I just think, for your own good, it would be best for you to go. We can talk when we both have clearer heads,” I mutter lamely, standing and holding the furnace piece out to her.

  “Best for me how? In what way?” Her fingers brush my hand as she takes it. That simple touch setting me on fire, making me groan. There’s no way I can hold the sound in. This is more torture than one man should be forced to endure. I want her. I want her more than a man should ever want a woman.

  “Jack,” she gasps, and I’m sure she can read the need written all over my face. I stare down into her eyes, and I know that if Brandi doesn’t go, I won’t be able to let her. “I'll leave if you want me to, but I have the feeling that’s not what you want at all.”

  “I do.” I say it, but I don't mean it.

  “Okay,” she whispers, leaning in close and kissing my cheek. “I'll see you later then.”

  I stand strong until she reaches the door. “Brandi, wait.”

  She turns and gazes at me and maybe it’s my imagination, but it feels like she is devouring me with her eyes. “Yes?” she asks with petulant hesitation.

  “Maybe you should have some coffee before you go. You drank that wine pretty quickly.”

  “I'll be fine,” she mumbles, her hand on the doorknob to leave.

  I breathe out, wishing to hell I knew how to fix this. “Have a cup for me. It will keep me from worrying.”

  A smile plays around her lips. “You are making me leave, but you’re going to worry about me? What did I do to deserve that, I wonder?”

  “Just lucky, I guess. I shouldn't have let you drink so much, so quickly. Come into the kitchen. I'll fix you a cup.”

  She follows me, shrugging off her jacket. “It’s silly, but okay.” She looks around my kitchen. “This is a nice room, too. We have similar tastes in color, I think,” she quietly responds.

  I push the pod into the machine and click the button so the coffee will brew. “I thought about painting it pink, but I have an image to protect,” I joke.

  She laughs. “You don't strike me as the kind of man who cares much about what other people think. And as far as your image goes, Sweetheart isn't likely to change its view of you any time soon.”

  “You think so?” I ask, handing her a cup of coffee and redoing the process to get myself one. I only have a single serve machine. There’s never been reason for more. “Do you want cream or sugar?” I ask.

  “Yes, please.”

  We share the space together in silence. I watch as she mixes the cream and sugar into her coffee. The moment feels intimate and strangely relaxing considering how we were just moments before.

  “So, what do the people of Sweetheart think of me?” I ask, wondering if she will tell me the truth or if she has even heard what they say.

  She sips from her mug slowly. “They think you're dangerous, maybe a spy or an assassin.”

  I grin. “Yeah, I've heard that before.”

  “The women think you're sexy, and the men are afraid of you.” She reaches past me to the box of crackers on the bar. “I'm suddenly starved,” she adds as an afterthought.

  “Help yourself.” I watch her nibble the crackers with delicate, ladylike bites. Once in a while, she pauses to lick crumbs from her lips, and I feel as if I might go insane watching. “Can I ask you a personal question?” I finally ask, knowing I shouldn’t.

  “Sure,” she answers, draining her coffee. “You can ask anything you want, but I’ll only answer what I want.”

  “That sounds reasonable, I guess. So, why is it you came to me to help you with your… problem?” I mumble. “I’m sure there are all kinds of men that you’ve dated out there who would love for you to ask them.”

  She stares at me, and at first, I think she’s not going to answer. Then, she just lets out a sigh, and I get the feeling she’s decided to just give me an answer, not because she wants to, but maybe because she’s tired of dealing with the way I keep pushing her away and then pulling her close. Hell, I�
�m tired of it myself.

  “I don’t really date, Jack.”

  “Bullshit,” I laugh. “There’s no way someone that looks like you, doesn’t have men knocking down your door just to touch you, Brandi.”

  Her eyes dilate, and she looks up at me, studying my face.

  “You think I’m pretty?” she asks.

  “Brandi, you’re not pretty, you’re fucking perfection. You’ve got a body and face men would kill to claim.”

  “I…uh… You know there’s more to a woman than the way she looks though, right?”

  “Of course I do. Your looks might be window dressing to the real prize, but I like the whole damn package—a lot more than I should.”

  “Wow…”

  “So, there’s no way you can convince me that you don’t have men lined up to take you out, all dying to get between your sweet legs.”

  “I don’t inspire that from men, Jack,” she mutters, looking annoyed with me.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I growl.

  “Just what I said. I don’t even like guys. I find most of them annoying to the point that a date is painful. I’ve managed seven, and every single one of them left me bored out of my mind.”

  “You’ve only had seven dates? Why?”

  “I just told you. I finally just decided I was going to give up and not go on another date until I found a guy that made me… feel…” she trails off, looking out my kitchen window before finally giving me her attention. When she does look back at me, she seems sad. “Just my luck that the guy I pick doesn’t want me like that.”

  Fuck.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JACK

  “WHY ME, BRANDI?” I ask, my voice a hoarse growl, knowing that there’s no way I’m going to be able to let her walk away now. Her quiet admission has become my downfall. What sane man could run away when a woman lowers her defenses like Brandi just did? She’s promising me heaven and I’m too weak to turn it away.

  “I don’t know, Jack. If you’re looking for a definite answer, I can’t give it to you. I like the way you laugh, the way you carry yourself. I love the way you touch me and how that makes me feel. I enjoy talking to you. Maybe it’s because when you walk into a room my entire body feels like it’s lit up with electricity. I truly don’t know. I just know that I’ve never felt this way with another person—not even close,” she confesses.

  What man could turn Brandi away when she gives him a confession with a stark honesty that even my jaded mind can’t begin to argue with? I let out a shaky breath.

  “You’re making this hard, Brandi,” I sigh.

  “I’d rather make other things hard for you, Jack,” she whispers bravely.

  “Christ,” I practically moan. I pull her to me, unable to stop myself. Her body presses against mine, my lips seek the curve of her neck, breathing in her scent. “You're playing with fire, baby,” I warn her. “You’re too young and too innocent. You don’t know what happens when little girls play these games.”

  “I don’t want to play games, Jack. I just want you. I want to belong to you.”

  “God help us both, Brandi, you’re tempting fate here. If I take you, there will be no going back,” I respond, giving her one last chance, the need to take her so strong that my body is practically shaking.

  “I don’t want to go back. Show me everything, Jack. Make me yours,” she says, her voice quiet but steady and clear. She wants this. She wants me.

  “I'll show you.” The words trail into a groan as I finally claim her lips. I pick Brandi up by the back of her thighs, her legs wrapping around my waist, needing to feel her in my arms, not wanting to let her go, ever.

  We continue to kiss as I carry her out of the kitchen and down the hall to my bedroom. The kiss coupled with the way her body feels in my arms ignites a fevered hunger that burns like a match igniting into a flame.

  She can feel every inch of my hard cock pressing against her center. There’s no way to disguise it, but I don’t want to. Not any longer. No, now I want Brandi to feel every inch that I’ll be giving her tonight. Even with the two layers of clothes between us, I can feel her heat, and it makes me curse the fact that I’m wearing jeans. The zipper is pressing into my shaft, and I’m so hard that it’s painful.

  “This is your last chance to escape, baby girl,” I repeat, but we both know that the moment for her to leave has slipped by. She’s going to be mine. I let her slide down the length of my body. When she steps away from me, I worry for a moment that she’s trying to change her mind.

  She looks at me, spins on her heel, and climbs on the bed, giving me a view of her sexy as hell ass, before lying on her back. Brandi’s red hair is spread on the midnight black comforter beneath her. She’s tantalizing, sexy as hell and will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life.

  The way she bites her lip while looking at me causes me to spread her legs, crawling between them, my arms on each side of her head caging her in. Our mouths are so close, yet so fucking far apart and I murmur to her, “Brandi, baby, you'll never escape me now,” I growl, leaning down to take her mouth. That hitch in her breath before my lips claim hers tells me all I need to know.

  “I'm not running, Jack,” Brandi replies when we break apart. Her hands delve underneath my shirt, her soft, delicate fingers feel cool against my heated skin.

  “Once we start, I won’t be able to hold back, not now and not ever again. I just need for you to be sure.”

  “Yes,” she breathes out, “I’m completely sure.”

  I lift my body up, bringing her with me into a sitting position, helping her pull her shirt from her body, “Jesus, you’re so fucking beautiful,” I groan.

  Brandi is full of surprises. Her hand moves down and flicks the clasp of her bra between her breasts. The fabric springs apart, giving me my first complete glance of her large breasts, smooth, milky skin, luscious, full globes with berry-colored nipples that are pebbled so hard that it has to hurt her. I cup her breasts, they overflow my hands, and my body shakes with the need to feel them wrapped around my dick. My thumbs glide over her nipples, teasing them, making them plump up in desperation even more. “Oh God, don’t stop,” she moans, her body trembling in my hold.

  “I couldn’t stop now if my life depended on it,” I admit.

  I take one of the nipples in my mouth, the peaches and cream skin sweet on my tongue. I suck on her nipple, lightly at first; Brandi’s hips rock into me, looking for something she can’t have just yet. I suck harder, using my teeth. I think for a moment she’s going to come right there when I introduce that small bite of pain. Damn, she’s what wet dreams are made of. My gaze never leaves her eyes even when she closes them on a sigh.

  I back away, helping her take her pants and the rest of her clothes off quickly. I need her bare skin beneath my hands. I memorize the curve of her hips that I fucking adore so damn much. She’s so sweet, innocent, virginal--and completely mine.

  “Stay right where you are, legs spread open for me, baby girl,” I demand. Brandi’s eyes are wide with innocence. Again, I feel a pang of regret. She deserves better than a worn out old solider like me. But when she watches me pull my shirt off, licking her lips, the feeling quickly fades. She wants this—wants me. I unbutton my pants, leaving them on, trying not to scare her. I need her completely lost in her passion before I take her the way I want. I’m going to use my hands and mouth all over her body and make sure she’s so overwhelmed with pleasure that fear of the unknown doesn’t have a moment to grab hold of her.

  I crawl back between her spread thighs, my hands cupping her cheeks, kissing her lips, letting her get used to the feel of me, and when she sighs, my tongue finds hers, teaching her just how I like her tongue entwined with mine.

  “Jack,” she moans as my mouth leaves hers,

  My lips brush against the sensitive skin on her neck, licking a path down the slope, stopping along the way to pay homage to both of her breasts, her hips never stop arching into my body the entire time. It takes every
thing I have not to shove my jeans down and slide deep inside her pussy. Instead, I take things painstakingly slow, memorizing every inch of her. I lick, kiss, and tenderly leave love nips with my teeth all the way down her abdomen and then lower until finally my head is buried between her spread legs. I breathe her scent in, trying to calm my ass down before I taste her for the first time.

  “Oh, God,” she purrs. Her hands are in my hair, restlessly touching me. Brandi’s voice sounds unsure, and there’s no way I want that.

  “It’s okay. Daddy has his baby girl,” I croon, soothing her like one would a skittish colt. The tip of my finger slides down her pussy causing her to do a full body shiver. I lower my head, my tongue taking the path my finger just did, tasting her sweetness, humming in pure fucking pleasure.

  “More,” she pleads.

  “Relax, Brandi, this is just for you,” I whisper against her bare cunt. I press my fingertip barely inside her, letting it suck me inside. This time, I’m not slow and sweet. I eat her like she’s my last meal, wanting to get her off, so that when I take her virginity, making her mine forever, she’s completely ready.

  “Jack,” she cries. Her sweet moans fill the room, her wetness coating my face and fingers. She’s coming apart beneath me, and I’ve never seen or heard anything more beautiful. It will be hard not to claim her hard and fast.

  I suck her clit into my mouth, use two fingers slowly thrusting inside her but not so much that it will hurt her. I just want to give her that burn, that hunger and need that will make her come so hard that she will beg for more.

  Brandi’s thighs clench my head, my hands press down, fingers splaying out across her abdomen, holding her down as she starts to come for me. If this wasn’t her first time, she’d be tied up, that way she couldn’t move no matter how many orgasms I decide to give her.

  “I’m coming, oh my God, Jack,” she groans, and her body trembles around me, her sweet juices flood against my tongue as she climaxes. I keep going after her, not letting her find rest until I’m sure she’s ridden through her climax. Then, I slowly lick her clit, kissing it to help bring her down from her orgasm.