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His Sugar Baby

Page 7

by Fiona Murphy


  “Are you really as wet as you smell?” Hot air against my ear follows his question as he sucks the soft flesh then nibbles. I nod even as I’m trembling from what he does to me.

  Grant swears, then he’s pulling my legs over his shoulders. Greedy, hungry, his mouth ravishes me, moaning about finding me wet. His left hand holds me open to him. In the mirrors lining the walls, I see his other hand; it’s wrapped around his cock, jacking it by turns slowly then roughly. Holy shit, I can’t take my eyes off what he’s doing to himself. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  My hips move aggressively beneath him now. “I want to watch you. Please, let me watch.”

  Grant lifts his head, looking dazed. “What?”

  I point to the place in the mirror where I can see him. “I want to watch you. Please?”

  “Fuck, yes. Okay.” He lets go of his cock. His fingers find their place inside me as his mouth comes back to me, sucking hard on my inner labia as his velvet tongue sweeps over me. Even as his hands dig deep into my hips to hold me in place, his mouth moves on me with languid hunger. I’m a feast he’s enjoying, deeper his tongue moves, reminding me all over again of how his cock felt inside me.

  Oh god, I fight the shame over how much my body wants him, over what he’s doing to me. Grant’s moans of how good I taste, of how much he can’t get enough slams the door shut on shame. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right. Nothing matters but what Grant thinks and he loves it. So I do, too. Then his tongue swipes my clit and thought disappears.

  I’m on the edge, so close. Pressing harder, his fingers push me over the edge as his teeth nip at my swollen clit and I scream. I barely notice the hard counter as Grant moves back. He grabs a white undershirt off the shelf and I watch with a blush as he cleans his face of the result of his mouth on me. His chuckle runs up my spine as he runs his tongue over his lips. When he wraps his hand around his cock all laughter disappears.

  Once again, I’m filled with desire to know what he tastes like. What would it be like to have him in my mouth, to please him as he did me. It feels like he’s doing it in slow motion, down then up, taking a swipe at the tip working the precum down. He’s so thick even his large hand doesn’t wrap all the way around. In my mind I’ve thought of other cocks I’ve seen as angry, gross, ugly. Grant is mouthwatering, from the perfectly shaped mushroom flared head to the long throbbing vein that runs the length of him. I can’t take my eyes off him. He comes with a grunt of my name. I watch in fascination at the jerking and throbbing of his cock. His release of come is as fascinating as it scary, he catches it with the tee shirt he had wiped his mouth with.

  Tossing the shirt away, he tugs his jeans back up but doesn’t bother to zip them. They are open and loose. Stepping between my open legs he nuzzles my neck. “You really liked that. I love watching how your nipples harden when you get turned on.” I nod with a moan as I run my hand down his stomach and into his boxer briefs, cupping him. God, even limp he’s impressive, intimidating. Grant grunts my name. “Are you trying to kill me here?”

  I shake my head, pressing a kiss against his chest. “I just wanted to thank you for letting me watch you. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Hmm... you’re bare, so soft yet hard and hot.”

  Closing his eyes, he fights to take in air. “I did the laser hair removal thing. After a woman I was with shaved me to her pleasure. I liked it, but didn’t like having to maintain it myself when things ended.”

  “Me, too, on laser hair removal, saves time and aggravation. You smell so good.” I inhale and lick the skin of his neck to taste him. More, I want so badly to know every inch of him, to taste all of him.

  His limp cock jumps in my hand and without thinking, my grip tightens. “Fuck.” Grant pulls away, his hands shake while he zips up and buttons his jeans. “Damn it, woman. I’m trying not to be a complete bastard and take you back to bed. You aren’t making it easy. Get dressed, for my sanity, please. One of the skirts and shirts. It’ll be hard enough knowing you aren’t wearing anything underneath.”

  It’s the last thing I want. I want to go back to bed, with him, and spend all day learning him. Only I’m still sore. I give in. “Okay.” My stomach growls and I blush.

  “Let’s get you some food and introduce you to Alice.” He’s at the doorway watching me pick one of the long maxi skirts, and a pink top.

  When he turns and walks out of the closet with a satisfied smile, I sneak a taste of the thick white result of him coming. The taste isn’t as unpleasant as I’ve heard of it being. I’ve tasted things much worse. Maybe, just maybe, going down on Grant wouldn’t be a horrible thing.

  Grant is waiting for me with a questioning look. I shrug, glad he hadn’t seen me. I would hate to offer something and then refuse it all over again. He reaches for my hand and I give it to him. His hand, big and warm, is a welcome comfort to my swirling thoughts.

  I’m taking in the beautiful home, happy to know it will be mine for a little while. I’m embarrassed it takes a minute to see the difference, where a silver bowl had sat in the middle of a marble table is a large vase of bright turquoise peonies. There is also a large bowl with light pink peonies surrounding a few turquoise in the large room which seems to be the large living room with the view to the lake. I stop to see Grant watching me intently. “How are they turquoise?”

  “I have no idea. I stopped listening when she said it was possible.”

  In awe, I go to the mix of pink and turquoise. They smell like heaven and are so soft. “I love them, thank you. Next time I would be happy with the different shades of pink with white. With them blue, it somehow doesn’t seem right.”

  He’s looking at me with a quirk to his lips. “The florist said you’d say something like that.”

  Going to him, I wrap my arms around his waist. “Thank you for doing it, but they are beautiful the way they are grown.”

  “Duly noted. She mentioned they aren’t hard to grow. She could bring a few over for your office. She’ll take care of them for you.”

  All the flowers are already sweet. I want to take him back to bed and show my appreciation. Yet as my body works in anticipation of him inside me, I ache. Instead, I kiss his cheek. “Yes, please.”

  He smiles at my blush. “I’ll give her a call later today then.”

  His hand at my back, we reach an enormous kitchen with an island covered in various vegetables with their own cutting boards. A woman is working a knife over carrots like a master chef. She’s maybe in her fifties, with stunning silver hair, petite and slim. With her so small and thin, the idea of her fighting with Grant over whether or not he can have bacon has me smiling.

  She nods and smiles at me in greeting.

  “Alice, this Anne. She’ll be living here now. She likes fried calamari and red meat. You will give her whatever she wants whenever she wants it. No arguments, no substitutions.” His words are firm, with a very clear warning.

  Alice blinks at his forceful tone. It’s clear he’s never spoken to her like this before. Or if he has it’s been so long she has forgotten how to respond. “I—yes of course.” She looks at me. “Anything you would like, I’ll be happy to prepare. If I don’t have it we have access to room service of the Ritz Carlton in the building.”

  “Please, Alice, it isn’t a big deal, really.” Even though I’m embarrassed and annoyed at Grant, I’m still clinging to him, unwilling to lose the feeling of him against me.

  “Yes, it is. This is your home now. I want you to be happy here. I don’t want you afraid to ask for what you want. You’re hungry now. What do you want to eat?”

  “Just some scrambled eggs and toast is fine.” I mutter self-consciously.

  “Are you sure?” Grant asks.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I’m not a big breakfast person. I’m more concerned about the coffee. Do you have half and half for coffee?”

  “Yes, miss. I’ll make you some coffee now. We have a wide selection, all beans to be ground. It’s how Grant prefers his coffee.


  “Sounds great, I appreciate it. I prefer something mild, no dark roasts.”

  Grant’s phone rings, he doesn’t look happy about it. It’s clear he’s even more unhappy with what he hears. “No, no fucking way has a bug just been found. We’ve been beta testing it for over six weeks now.”

  His arm tightens around me. With a kiss on my temple he whispers he’ll be in his office. Then he’s gone.

  Watching him walk away, my stomach tumbles, feeling hollow. It’s stupid to want him to come back already. He’ll only be on the other side of the condo. I can last without him for ten minutes. I’ve lasted thirty years, right?

  “Careful, dear, he’s not easy to catch and keep.” Her words are kind, not spiteful.

  Yet tears sting my eyes. What the fuck is the matter with me? “I know.”

  “Although, he does look the happiest I’ve seen him in ages. I’ve also never seen a single flower in this home.” She smiles at the small bowl of white peonies on the eat-in kitchen table.

  I touch a velvet-smooth petal, still astonished at the way he filled his home at my tossed away words. No man has ever bought me peonies, it’s always been roses, and the real reason I don’t like roses. No man has ever asked me what I liked, just made an assumption, handing me roses as if I should be grateful.

  “He’s also never once told me it was important to make a woman happy. He told them they ate what I made for them or they could order up their own food.”

  Wiping my eyes, I smile apologetically. “I am sorry about that. Although I do like bacon and red meat.”

  “It’s no problem at all dear. I’m just concerned for his health, as he refuses to do anything besides a squash game once a week with his friend, and his weight lifting. He spends all his hours at his desk, from the time he’s up in the morning until he goes to bed. His hours are also atrocious. Sometimes he doesn’t go to bed until the early hours of the morning but he’s still up early the next day.

  “His diet was planned by a nutritionist based on his preferences. I can order in more of the organic grass-fed beef she recommended on his days for eating meat. There’s also plenty of bacon, I keep it in the freezer. It’s low sodium though, also organic and uncured. Grant noticed the change, but only to say it tastes better.”

  “Thank you. I’m not against healthy. I’m against being told I have to eat quinoa and kale. I am very against kale.”

  Alice laughs. “I would be happy to call the nutritionist and ask her to come in to talk with you. Your meals are based on your preferences. If you don’t like quinoa you don’t have to eat quinoa. Grant hates kale, too, and as often as I’ve tried to sneak it past him I haven’t succeeded. Per his order there is never a leaf of kale in the house.

  “Also, just because she comes doesn’t mean you have to say yes to anything she suggests. What she will do is put together menus with recipes based on your preferences, mainly for me. I pull them out and plan the weekly grocery ordering based on them.”

  She’s grinding the beans and the room is filled with the fragrant smell of coffee. “I would be happy to. I know I should eat better. I’m not much of a cook and have become frozen-dinner-and-eating-out dependent.

  “I also hate to work out, too. But I love yoga and do it daily. I also like to walk. This is the best city for walking in. I’ve been out every day for the last week, exploring the city. The art museum was so wonderful I was in there for hours yesterday.”

  “This city is a wonderful place for exploring, but you have to be careful. Being pretty and alone isn’t safe for you.” She stops as she whisks the eggs in a bowl to warn me.

  “I’m careful. I always carry pepper spray. I try to stay with the crowds and I make sure to leave time to get home before dark.” I defend myself. Refusing to admit the close call I had with a group of teenagers on the El when I was coming back from Lincoln Park Zoo.

  “I don’t think that’s enough. You’ll need to tell Grant every time you intend to go out wandering around.”

  “Bothering Grant is silly. This city is filled with women who walk the streets every day and are just fine. I don’t need to tell Grant every time.”

  “Tell Grant what?” He’s behind me, having walked into the kitchen through the dining room. His eyes are intent and suspicious.

  “It’s nothing.” I mumble faltering under his stare.

  Alice bangs down the pan on the burner. Shaking her hand at me like I’m a naughty child. “It’s not nothing. She likes roaming around the city, taking in the sites all on her own.”

  Grant frowns, “Yeah, that sure as hell is not nothing. What are you thinking? Especially if you are more focused on the sites then watching out for yourself.”

  “I’ve done it before in other big cities, like Boston and all over New England.”

  “I don’t care what you did then, this is now. You aren’t roaming the city alone. I’ll go see if I can find a security company.” He leaves without a word, head down, going through his phone.

  I feel sold out by Alice. “Why did you have to say it like that? I don’t need security.”

  “Young lady, I have lived in this city my entire life. I’ve been raped once, sexually fondled, grabbed more times than I can count, and robbed six times. I will not let the same thing happen to you and neither will Grant. Now, sit down and eat your food.” She says, as she places my plate at the table of the eat in kitchen.

  Shocked at how she listed her rape and harassment like it was a grocery list I don’t argue and do as she says. She sets the coffee carafe, cup, and creamer beside my plate. I eat in stunned silence while Alice hums as she chops vegetables. Finished, I take my plate to the sink and wash it off.

  “Leave it, dear. I’ll take care of it. Lunch today for Grant will be salmon with lemon and dill, with a side of orzo pasta salad. I’m sneaking in shredded broccoli with feta, olives, cucumber, and tomatoes in balsamic vinaigrette. Will that suit you?”

  “It sounds delicious thank you.”

  The doorbell rings. Alice’s eyebrows go up in surprise. “Grant rarely has visitors.”

  “I’ve got it Alice.” There is an intercom somewhere in the room. Grant’s voice comes through clearly. “Anne, when you’re finished, come into my office.”

  I walk through the condo, finding Grant opening the door to a tall, slim, woman in a blindingly white suit. She smiles at me with her whole face, eyes crinkling, cheeks dimpling.

  “Yvette, I appreciate you coming by on short notice. This is Anne Thomas, the reason for your visit.”

  She shakes my hand with a firm grip. I watch as Grant starts heading to his office. “Can I get you something? Water or coffee maybe?”

  Grant stops at my question and shrugs. Yvette laughs. “I’m fine, thank you. Once we dig in I might need coffee. We’ll see how exacting Grant gets.”

  His look says, I told you so before he turns back to his office. I look toward the woman who smiles again. We follow him into his office. Last night the desk had been almost buried in paper. Now there is only a small stack in the very middle.

  Grant points her to a chair across from him and pulls me around to a chair he had placed beside his own. Turning to me, “I broke into your phone, found your contract, and downloaded it. I wanted everything ready to fill in the blanks based on what we have already agreed; the monthly amount due to you and so on. Yvette has a draft of it. We are going over it to make sure there isn’t anything we need to change.”

  My cheeks glow. Yvette smiles reassuringly. “Please, Ms. Thomas, no need for any embarrassment. This is a business matter and will be treated as such. I’ll draw this up and have a notary come by with me later, for you both to sign. I also encourage you to seek your own counsel, as I represent Mr. Dexter. Here is what we have based on Mr. Dexter’s request. Please look it over and make changes as you see fit.”

  “Thank you for the advice, but I won’t be having anyone else look at it.” I take the sixteen page document. Damn, my contract had been one page. The page
s are filled with a little more legalese for my terms and clarification, extending it to four pages. Everything I had said and the terms I considered negligible are here, unchanged. When we traveled, I got my own room and a thousand dollar a day allowance for spending. I got three months to myself total in a year, no more than two weeks in a row away from Grant.

  Now I see Grant’s terms, they aren’t very different than I expected. I was to live in his home and be available in the evening. He wanted me to sleep in his bed at least four days out of the seven day week. His office was off limits during the day even though his door would be open, it was always open. If I wanted to speak with him during the day I was to text him and wait for his response. When he was at his office he wasn’t to be disturbed at all.

  What surprises me are the pages about my appearance. I am to maintain my appearance as I am at the start of the contract, no dieting, no pills for weight loss, no cosmetic surgery, or cosmetic procedures, such as Botox or other face fillers. Seeing how clearly Grant likes me exactly as I am, and doesn’t want me to change a dimple on my ass has me bursting with happiness.

  Then I see the end date and my happiness dims. There is also a cancellation clause if either one of us should break one of the terms of agreement. A thirty day notice was required, though, and the terms would still need to be fulfilled during the thirty days. No notice was required if there was any physical, sexual, or intentional emotional or verbal abuse. In which case, the agreement was immediately cancelled.

  The part that threw me was the payment. I would be listed as an employee within his company. Which I’m happy with. I would have health and dental benefits, and taxes would be withheld, which I was also happy to have done. Except the taxes that were removed, along with the cost of the benefits, would be paid back as company stock in an employee stock ownership plan.

  “What is an employee stock ownership plan?” The doorbell chimes as I look up.

  “He’s late, but still perfect timing.” Grant says as he presses a button on his phone. “Alice, can you let John in please?”

 

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