His Sugar Baby

by Fiona Murphy

  “One, I’m civilized and civilized people don’t do that in the back of a car. Two, those years were thirteen months and nine days. Three, I’ve gotten,” I fumble with the fork in my hand not wanting to say the word. “I’ve become excited at the prospect of being with a client. However, it was only two men and not as excited as I got tonight. Do we really have to talk about this?

  “I thought if you still called me after talking to Tabatha you would be okay with what I did. But if you aren’t, then I don’t care what happened in the car, I don’t want to go into an agreement with you.” I end breathlessly. I don’t want to make the condition, I only know I have to.

  He’s a quiet for a minute, as if thinking carefully about what he’s going to say. Which scares the shit out of me, then he smiles without a trace of humor. “Yes, it bothered me. At first I told myself it was about the money in exchange for sex thing, and what did that make you. Then I spoke with Tabatha, what she said, it hit home. I don’t have any right to judge you for what you felt you had to do. And the more I thought about it the more the more I realized it wasn’t really about the money and sex thing.

  “What bothered me was the idea of you being with who knows how many men before me. Which, after just two minutes of logical thinking, was bullshit; as I’m sure I’ve fucked more women than you’ve fucked men. I didn’t have the right to resent them getting to you and fucking you first. Right now, I don’t feel very logical though. How many men have you fucked, Anne? How many men have gotten to sink into your soft silky body?”

  “Thirty seven men.” I whisper, answering his lust soaked question.

  He shakes his head. “Don’t lie to me. I don’t believe you.”

  I’m confused at his vehemence and it shakes the truth loose. “Rape doesn’t count, it’s only one man I don’t count. I don’t talk about it. I don’t want to talk about any of it.”

  He flinches as if I’ve slapped him. Running a hand through his hair he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m a bastard. We won’t talk about it.” Reaching across the table he takes my clenched hands in his. He’s gentle. His touch soothes my frayed nerves. “I shouldn’t have pushed. I just can’t believe with you on a menu, so few men picked you.”

  Shaking my head, his words about how much he wants me sends a warm glow through my whole body. A man so billboard-glossy handsome, so completely sexy with the ability to have anyone wants me. “It’s not really hard to believe. Not many men are interested in a woman who isn’t a blonde and double zero. I tried for years to lose the weight, but I kept going back and forth between a fourteen and a sixteen. There’s also the fact I have several no-gos.”

  He looks like he’s holding his breath and I hope it’s not a deal breaker for him. “I don’t do blow jobs, or anal or anything that isn’t pretty basic.” Closing his eyes, he tightens his grip on me. “Is any of it a deal breaker that I don’t do?”

  “Do I want you to suck my cock? Yes. Getting my cock sucked was pretty much number one on my list of gets on doing this. But it’s your body, sweetheart, every inch. I’ll live without it from you. Although, it does make a lot of sense, how you had so few clients.”

  “I was really lucky actually, from almost the beginning I had several regulars who made sure I didn’t have to work more than two, maybe three, nights a week. Really, I just needed to save money and get into a stable financial position. So that I could stop without being desperate again a few months later. It didn’t take long for me to start the online school thing. Once I did, I very quickly realized I needed to devote more time than the average student because I had so much more to learn.

  “I had zero job experience, and it’s not cheap to live in Vegas. None of the nicer casinos would hire me. That didn’t stop me from looking for something else, for trying to find a way out of it.”

  “That’s when a client offered to be a sugar daddy?”

  “Yeah, Frank was one of my regulars. He lived in Boston but came to Vegas often for business. When he realized I wanted to quit he offered an arrangement. I wasn’t sure. I liked Frank but was afraid of finding myself at the mercy of a man’s whim again.”

  “Like with your ex-husband. I’ve never seen abandonment on divorce papers before.”

  Remembering how and when Billy abandoned me, I only nod. I don’t want to talk about it. “I talked about it with Tabatha. She liked Frank and told me it would be good for me. She even helped me draft a contract. Frank would pay my rent and a monthly allowance. The amount Tabatha told me to ask for seemed way too high. Frank only shrugged and said it was worth it since he didn’t have to pay for his current mistress in addition to what he paid when he saw me almost twice a month. So, I said yes and went to Boston. I worked my ass off to finish my degree, over the next three years. To get out from under Frank’s control.”

  “Did he treat you badly?” His hand tightens around mine.

  I shrug. “He was okay, really. It was just, he treated me like he owned me. He told me what to wear, and how to do my hair. Who I could and couldn’t talk to when we went out. I liked going out and roaming the city on the few days I wasn’t studying to get some air.

  “The first year and a half or so it was no big deal. Then Frank got more controlling. I had to account for every minute I was away from the condo. Towards the end, it was more hassle than it was worth and I only left the condo for groceries.

  “By the time I got my degree I was ready to end things with Frank because I felt like I was caged in. Frank tried to talk me into staying but I wanted out.” His questioning keeps the feeling lingering inside me. “Are you sure my past doesn’t bother you, it will stay in the past?”

  “I can’t say there won’t be moments when I won’t wonder about the men who’ve touched you, won’t wonder if I’m making you feel better than they did. It’s my problem, not yours. Don’t worry. I won’t use it against you in an argument in the future.

  “Your past makes up who you are for better or worse. I’m sure it was growing up the way you did that makes you the most prudish escort Tabatha has ever had on her books.”

  “I’m not a prude. A prude doesn’t sell sex.” I’m mystified by how quickly he’s back to smiling and teasing me. “You know about me all the way back to my childhood. While I understand your need to know, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  His hands tighten, he doesn’t let me go. “We’ve covered what I really wanted to know. You wanted us to get to know each other, how about some easier questions? What’s your favorite color? Let me guess, black. You seem to like wearing it.”

  I shrug, “No, I wear black because I’m lazy and it’s easy to throw an outfit together. My favorite color is blue but not blue-blue, more turquoise. What’s your favorite color?”

  “Blue, just blue. Although those grey eyes of yours are a hell of a lot more appealing than blue right now. Hmm... favorite flower?”

  “Peonies.” I laugh as he looks mystified. “You don’t know what peonies are?”

  “You got me, I expected you to say roses.” He goes to pull out his phone then sees my disappointment. “No phone, even to google these peonies. Why peonies?”

  “Roses are boring. Peonies smell better, are prettier with lots of ruffles and are all different colors. You can also grow them without being a master gardener.”

  “Do they come in turquoise?”

  “No, not naturally. I’m not even going to ask you your favorite flower. What’s your favorite season?”

  “I don’t know, never really thought about it. I do know I appreciate the excuse winter in Chicago gives me to not go out. It also slows the city down a little, makes everything softer, less sharp edges to the city. What made you choose Chicago and leave Boston?”

  “I’ve been lucky enough to visit here often and really liked every visit. It’s such a unique city and the people are genuinely nice. People in Vegas were not nice, same with Boston. I knew I wanted to leave Boston because it was too expensive and too freaking cold. The first
place I thought of was Chicago. I also like how there are a lot of different types of industries and companies here. When I figure out what I want to do, hopefully it will be easy to find something here.”

  “I’m very curious how you decided on an accounting degree only to find out you hated it.”

  “Well, I researched for hours on what was the best degree to get. An accounting degree was the top rated one as far as ease of getting it online and job prospects once it was completed.

  “Since all I had done was homeschooling, which I hated the entire time, I thought it was normal to hate what you are studying. The homeschooling was only ever to get the GED to satisfy the state requirements and keep CPS from bothering my parents. I learned only what I needed to pass a test. It was never about going onto college and continuing an education.

  “From all the things I’ve heard, I also kind of thought it was normal. You do what you’re supposed to do not what you want. I tried, I really did. Three and a half years at the first company, sure it was the company I hated, then I tried another. Except it was a bigger company with all these rules and it was a dozen times worse.

  “I started looking for another job after I got to my one-year anniversary because I was told it would look better on my resume. My manager found out I lied about going to the doctor’s appointment. I actually went on a job interview, and he fired me. Even though it was scary, I was actually happy when he fired me. At the time, I was sure it meant I could take my time and find a job I really liked. The only problem was every time they asked why I wanted to work for one company or another, I didn’t have a very good answer.”

  “You didn’t have any aspirations when you were a kid? Doctor, lawyer, astronaut?”

  “Nope. I grew up in a deeply religious family that instilled zero aspiration beyond being an obedient, god-fearing baby-making machine. Even though I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be I had no idea how to even become something else.” I’m relieved when the calamari is set down in front of me, it’s the most I’ve talked about the past since forever, and it isn’t as easy as I want it to be. The waitress offers him a small plate for the calamari with his soup.

  “Do you eat it with lemon and with marinara?”

  “I like to do both and then sometimes just lemon. Try one, just one, you know you’re curious.” I prepare a curled strip with splash of lemon and marinara and offer it to him.

  Making a face, he leans over; his large hands wraps around my wrist, his firm touch sending electricity through me all over again. He guides my hand to his mouth. Chewing slowly, he nods. “Hmm... it’s good. You know what this means though, you have to share.”

  Laughing, still breathless from the intimate moment, I scoop some of the calamari onto his plate. “I’m happy to share. Here, try it with just lemon.”

  He does, “This is really good. Great, another food I’m going to have to fight with my housekeeper to get. The minute you texted Italian I’ve been looking forward to having lasagna.”

  “You fight with your housekeeper to eat certain food?” The idea of Grant Dexter with his large muscled body intimidating not just sexually but in every way, arguing with his housekeeper for food seems absurd.

  “Yeah, it’s embarrassing to admit, but you’ll find out soon enough. She’s been with me forever, going on thirteen years now. Only a few years in she decided, with me not working out except the daily weightlifting I do, she needed to change my diet. Out with the bacon and eggs and pizza I wanted and in with more vegetables, fish, and chicken. Now it’s a battle to get bacon and red meat is practically outlawed. Every once in a while I revolt and demand a steak or a hamburger and french fries. I’ll get them, and then pay for it in eating everything green for a week.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “It’s sweet I have to threaten to fire her to get bacon?”

  “No, it’s sweet because she cares about you. You’re lucky to have someone who does.”

  “I guess that’s one way to think of it.” The waitress sets down my plate, braciole is a steak rolled with prosciutto and cheese covered in marinara sauce. The dish is complete with angel hair pasta also covered in marinara as the side. “What do you have again? It looks delicious.”

  I laugh at his look of envy. “Do you want to try some? I don’t mind sharing.” He nods, so I cut up a few bites and put it, along with some pasta, on the plate I hadn’t used for my calamari. “Here you go.”

  A little moan comes out of him that goes up my spine in a tingle. “This is amazing. What is this again?”

  “Braciole, it’s one of my favorites.”

  We don’t talk much as we eat. When the waitress comes to check on us he orders braciole to go for later.

  “I’m going to have to sneak it past Alice.” He leans back. “We are doing this. You’re coming home with me tonight. We’re going to seal this deal. Are you ready?”

  Chapter Five

  It’s the only question she gets to answer. If she needs time, I’ll do my best to give it to her, but she’s mine. She knows it as much as I do. She inhales deeply. I watch her very real, very luscious breasts tremble. Then she nods. “Yes.”

  Thank fucking god. I signal for the check. “This isn’t something I’ve done before. I have a friend who has though. He gave me his contract as a kind of guide so I’d know what might be included. Do you have one already?”

  “I do actually. It’s revisable, of course, although there are a few things I’m not willing to change.”

  “Then let’s go take a look.” I’m wondering what things she’s not willing to change. I’m already not happy about the no sucking of my cock, and wonder how many more things I’ll have to forego. The waitress is at the table with my braciole to go and the bill. I’m carrying cash, glad for the quick exit it gives me.

  When she gets out of the booth her dress slides up and my hands itch to touch her again. She sways into me when my hand goes to her back to guide her out of the restaurant. Her ass is perfection, I’m fighting not run my hand over the curve that makes me rethink my status as a tit man. When she shivers, my jaw tightens at her response to me.

  I was sure I would find her as attractive in person as I had the picture online. But what I’m feeling for her is so much more than mere attraction, the desperate craving to know every inch of her isn’t something I’ve ever experienced before. My uneasiness about it is appeased only by Anne obviously feeling the same. Hers is no act, from her loss of composure in the back of the car to the way her breath shook when she looked at me. I don’t know what it is about her or why. I don’t care. All I know is she has lit a fire inside me that will only be quenched by being inside her.

  I hail a cab to take us home. The drive home is taking forever. She’s home, too. She isn’t going anywhere.

  “You live in the Water Tower Place? I’ve wondered what it was like inside here.”

  Her dress slides up again as she gets out of the car. As sexy as she is in this dress I can’t wait to get her out of it. The door is open before I even get to it.

  We enter the elevator and she doesn’t leave my side as I swipe before punching my floor. “Sixty-second floor, I bet your view is amazing.”

  “It’s your view now, too.” My arm around her waist, I guide her toward my door. “You aren’t going anywhere. You live here now.”

  I watch her breath catch before she nods. Her grey eyes are pewter now, telling me what I need to know. “Yes.”

  “My bed is where you belong. There is another room with an ensuite bathroom for some nights, but not all.” She shivers, pressing against me.

  When I open the door, her eyes go everywhere. The foyer is all white marble, which I actually can’t stand, with a marble table where I stash my keys in a silver bowl in the middle.

  The rest of the place is all dark wood on the floor with chair railing and crown molding. All the colors on the walls are varying shades of blues. “If there’s anything you don’t like, you can change it. It’s a three bedroom, well actuall
y it was four bedrooms until I took over one of the bedrooms for my office. I like the view from it more than the view in the actual office. You can have the office for your own private space.”

  “It’s gorgeous, here.” Now we are in the master bedroom. Anne is the one who stops, her eyes on the bed. “About the terms of...” She stops and blushes.

  “Fifty thousand a month for a year, whether we make it the entire twelve months or not. You’ll also get a credit card for personal use, whatever you want to use it on, no limit.”

  Her reaction isn’t what I expect. Taking a step back, she shakes her head. “What are you expecting from me?”

  I follow her. “You, all of you. I’m not into kinky shit or anything. You make the rules. I’ll accept what you are willing to give or not give. You don’t do blow jobs, fine, but I’ll need to taste you. That preview in the car wasn’t enough.”

  “If you want to.” The words come out of her in a rush. Her eyes are big as my hands catch her hips to keep her where I want her, close to me.

  “You’ll spread your pussy wide for me to feast when I want.” It’s not a question. I can smell her wet for me. I need to taste her again. Sliding my hands down over her beautiful round ass I squeeze what has been tempting me.

  “Yes, yes.” Her hips rock against my straining cock.

  Fuck, her breathing flutters as she rocks against me again. Needing to know before I tear her clothes off and fuck her where we stand, I almost groan as I ask. “Any other no-gos for the bedroom?”

  “Anal.”

  “You mentioned it already, I’ll live without it. Tell me more, any other limits?” Her hand comes up to my arm to steady herself. Her breathing does that thing again, then her other hand is at my waist. Her eyes are hypnotic pools of silver.

  Her voice is trembling. “I agree to sex at least three times a week but I have the right to say no to more than five. The right to my own space and to sleep in it instead of with you. No pimping me out or trying to share me with other men or women. No fondling me in front of people. No discussing our arrangement publicly, if you talk to your friends about it privately I’m fine, but just not putting it on blast to just anyone.”