His Sugar Baby

by Fiona Murphy

  “Simply, it’s where you own stock in my company. The reason why I want some of the money to go into stock, where you don’t pay taxes on it is going to be explained by John.

  “John, you’re late. My lawyer, Yvette—who was on time—and Anne, my woman with whom you will be working your money magic.”

  Why the hell does my entire body flood with heat to hear him call me his woman? It’s incredibly sexist, also incredibly thrilling.

  Yvette stands and shakes hands with the small, rumpled man who looks vaguely reminiscent of Mr. Magoo down to his small round glasses. “I’m going to go chat with Alice and have some coffee. Let me know when you are ready for me.”

  John reaches across to shake my hand and nods to Grant. “My apologies, Grant. I was in the burbs when you called. Traffic is a bitch. Hello dear, my goodness you are a pretty young thing. I can see why Grant wants to protect you. Yes, yes, money is a double sided sword at times.

  “Okay, let’s see here, the notes from my secretary. Mm... fifty thousand a month. My goodness, it’s a good thing you called me now. I told you years ago making an ESOP plan would be worth it. This is exactly the reason why it’s good for an employee.

  “Okay dear, lovely to meet you. Grant here is concerned about your financial future. I’m here to help you do some planning now, so you have fewer issues to worry about in the future. Now, now, dear, don’t get upset. I should be meeting with any person who will be coming into a large sum of money; young, old, college educated, high school only. Nobody really prepares you for all the moving parts that come with money.”

  I want to argue this is a waste of time but he sees it and holds up a hand before I can speak.

  “Young lady, tell me something. If I weren’t here, what would you do with, let’s say fifty thousand dollars, the money you will receive this month?” I hesitate. “Come now, anything your heart desires no worries about Grant here. What would you do with it?”

  “Well, ten percent into savings.” I’ve learned how important it was. “I would set aside another five thousand for taxes. Then a trip to Italy, two weeks in Rome.”

  “My, my, smart girl, ten percent, five thousand into savings, already thinking about taxes. Then off to Rome, nice city. How much are you going to spend there in Rome for two weeks?”

  “I don’t know eight, maybe nine thousand.” He laughs. “Okay, more like ten or twelve thousand.”

  “Okay now, ten thousand in the bank and let’s be honest fifteen thousand on flights and hotels and cannoli. You’ve got twenty five thousand dollars still, trip to Bloomie’s maybe?”

  “No, I’m not much of a shopper. For the month, a weekly spa trip, they run about two hundred each time. I don’t know... not much more.”

  “Now, I want you to really think, no Grant, no Alice. What are you doing with your money every day right now?”

  “Well, I guess mainly eating out. I don’t cook.”

  “Grant here has done the extremely illegal thing of breaking into your bank account. I’ve downloaded the information into a spending tracker. You two can discuss that amongst yourselves later. Are you aware last year you spent seventeen thousand six hundred twenty-two dollars on eating out? On eating out alone.”

  No fucking way, I think, as I hear him say the dollar amount out loud. Only he’s not done yet.

  “You do like the spa, you spent four thousand two hundred there last year. We will get to all the eating out and whatnot later, I’m not really here about that. I’m here to let you know that the five thousand you put away would leave you with a seven thousand dollar bill owed to the IRS. For only one month of what Grant will be paying you for the year.

  “We get into the six hundred thousand you will have at the end of the year, and per month, it’s nineteen thousand five hundred you would owe monthly. The nineteen thousand five hundred is why I’m here.”

  “Nineteen thousand dollars?” I look at Grant, stunned. All the resentment about his sneaky breaking into my electronic life is gone.

  “Nineteen thousand five hundred, when we talk about the IRS we never round down dear. There are some things people can do to lower their taxable income that also helps them for the future. We are going to get you enrolled into the 401k for Grant’s company. We can pay medical expenses up front with an FSA account, but Grant’s idea about giving you stock monthly as an employee to replace some of the money given to the IRS is the best thing.

  “With his company stock not publicly traded, the value is static. You own stock that is, for the sake of this example, one month, nineteen thousand five hundred dollars, and because it’s in the employee plan, you don’t pay any taxes on it until you cash it out.

  “When you cash it out you can roll it over into a nontaxable IRA or you cash it out and buy other stock with it and your taxable amount will be the current rate. Let’s say you don’t need the nineteen thousand five hundred dollars until three years from now when you are only making fifty thousand dollars a year. At that time your overall tax liability for the whole year is lower than at six hundred thousand and so you get to keep more of that nineteen thousand five hundred come tax time.”

  It sounds very appealing, but wait a minute. “Grant, wait this isn’t right. It’s fifty thousand a month, that’s it. I want to pay the taxes. I don’t want them to come after me later. If you buy the stock to make up for the taxes it’s even more money, another almost twenty thousand a month. That’s... that,” I struggle with the math for a second. “Two hundred forty thousand dollars more, no, absolutely not.

  “Fifty thousand is already more than I wanted, more than I need. We can talk about the other stuff, a 401k and things like that but this extra, this money to make up for me paying taxes. No.”

  “John, go get some coffee.” Grant is frowning. I back up, worried about displeasing him on only our first day together.

  “No, John stay.” The man knows who is paying the bill and disappears. “Grant, no.”

  His hands go down to the arms of my chair, he leans in to me and nibbles at my mutinous mouth.

  “Yes. Say, yes, sweetheart. Don’t be like this. I want to take care of you, to make sure you never have to do anything you don’t want to do again. Why is that a bad thing?”

  He whispers along the skin of my jaw. I swallow a moan as he sucks the soft flesh of my ear into his mouth. “I’m a billionaire, the money doesn’t mean anything to me. Twenty thousand a month, I give more than that to charity.” I stiffen and he groans. “You are not charity. The last thing I feel for you is charity. Anne, please let me do this. Knowing you are protected in the future is important to me.”

  “I will be. John will help me with that because of you. You are already doing it with the agreed amount monthly. I appreciate you running it through your company, which gives me benefits I’ve missed. But no, nothing you say will make me change my mind. Fifty thousand, that’s all.”

  I stare him down. Finally, he sees I’m not going to give in. “You’re too stubborn for you own good, sweetheart.”

  “No, I’m just more stubborn than you want me to be.” I peck his cheek in apology.

  In a flash, he turns, capturing my mouth. Angry, rough, demanding, his tongue invades, showing me exactly what he intends to do to me. I’m clinging to him when he tears his lips from mine. I moan, at the loss of him.

  “Tonight, we’ll find out how stubborn you really are.” He promises. I can’t wait.

  Grant hits the button on the phone and asks Yvette and John to come back into his office. The next hour makes me tense. I make a partial concession based on John’s advice. I agree to take payment in part of ten thousand a month in stock. Unlike regular employees, who have to wait five years, I have the right to cash out when our year is up. Yvette revises the agreement, saying she’ll be back later today for both our signatures.

  After a break for lunch John and I stay in the kitchen when Grant goes back to his office to work. John takes me through the 401k and how to invest. I look up to see it’s b
een almost two hours of investment school and we aren’t actually done yet. Seeing my eyes begin to glaze over, John promises to come back tomorrow. We’ll go over spending and how to make a budget for this year and the years when I’m not making fifty thousand a month.

  I’m exhausted and tell Alice I’m going to take a nap. I tiptoe past Grant’s office into the master bedroom and close the door. I take off the skirt and shirt before climbing into the bed Alice must have made. Closing my eyes, I fall asleep in seconds.

  Chapter Seven

  Staring blindly at the screen, all I can think of is how to get my way. How to make certain Anne will be okay after this year is up. How to make sure she won’t find herself in another man’s bed for money five or ten years down the road.

  The pen I have in my hand breaks. I don’t want Anne to have to be with someone. I want her to only be with someone because she wants to be. Fuck, that’s a lie. The idea of Anne in another man’s bed, five years or ten years or fucking twenty years from now sends the broken pen and ink flying across the room.

  Get a grip, I struggle to breathe deeply. One night, it’s only been one night. It’s just one year. This is supposed to only be one year. Sure, I had hoped any woman who was willing to sign up for an agreement like this would be open to going longer than a year with the terms remaining the same. But I hadn’t even thought to bring it up to Anne. If I lose my shit this soon she’ll spook and run. I’m not even sure what I’m losing my shit over. All I know is last night has me fucking in a tailspin of burning need for Anne.

  For everything about her, from the smell of her skin to the insanely sweet taste of her pussy, those perfect full breasts that fit my hands and mouth perfectly to the feel of her soft body against mine. Waking up beside her, I hadn’t been able to stop running my eyes over every inch of her as my cock ached to take her again. Even as my head spun from trying to figure what made her different.

  My phone rings, I answer to find my staff is unable to handle the bug issue on their own. I have to go into the office. I hate going into my office. I hit the intercom to let Alice know, and ask her to tell Anne for me. She tells me that Anne is taking a nap. She’ll tell Anne when she wakes up.

  Opening the door to the bedroom, the plan is to grab some shoes and head for the door. It’s the plan, until I see her. My body takes me to the bed. Fuck, she’s beautiful. She’s deep in sleep with the covers tucked under her small chin. I pull back the covers, needing to see more of her.

  My cock aches, her body is a wet dream, full heavy breasts tipped with sweet pink nipples that are extremely responsive. I love the curve of her stomach, love how soft she felt against me. Fighting the urge to touch her, I stare at her bare, sweet, sweet pussy that I can still taste on my tongue. She fit me in a way no one ever has. Never have I wanted to sink inside a woman and never leave, with Anne it’s all I want.

  This morning I truly lost track of time while I was inside her. The feel of the wet silk of her shockingly tight pussy around my cock was a heaven I never wanted to stop. Watching her, hearing her breathy little sighs as I moved inside her made it obvious she was feeling the same way. I hadn’t lied this morning, her body is addictive, like nothing I’ve ever known.

  After so many women I’ve lost track, and after so many years, it’s something I’m still trying to wrap my head around. I know Anne feels the same, knew it in the way her body shook at my touch.

  It shocked her, the way she responded to me. I could see it in her eyes, every emotion was clear in them. I love how she hadn’t allowed it to inhibit her. She was giving herself freely to me. Anne isn’t holding anything back, and that’s as erotic as her body.

  The moment in the closet when she had pleaded to watch me jack off. Her eyes fixed on my cock, the way she squirmed on the counter. I don’t know how I held off coming as long as I did. Then she almost sent me to my knees when she stuck her hand down my jeans. Her touch was gentle as she explored me. Touching me turned her on, her breasts swelling and heavy her nipples turning into thick cherries she pressed against my chest. After the men in her past, how was she so taken with my cock? How was it as if it were the first cock she ever had? I’ll find out soon. For now, she’ll get all of my cock she wants, any way she wants it.

  “Are you just going to look? You know you can touch.” Anne’s voice is soft in the room as she parts her legs in invitation.

  “I can smell your pussy, sweetheart, you want me to touch you.” She nods, opening her legs wider and moans my name. “I can’t. I have to go to work. If I touch you I won’t make it out of this room.”

  Her sleepy eyes go from light grey to cloud filled instantly, as she closes her legs. She whispers, “Okay.”

  “I can’t touch you but I want to watch you touch yourself. Open your legs wide for me to see your pussy.” Her nipples harden at my words. She opens her legs. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to watch you come.”

  Her hand covers her pussy. She takes a breath so deep her breasts sway. Her middle finger slides down the lips that are glistening with her need. Up and down her finger runs, before slipping inside with a moan.

  “That’s not enough, sweetheart. I want you to tell me. What are you thinking about? What makes you wet and come, tell me.” She blushes. “Anything, anyone, I want to know.” My jaw clenches at what I have opened myself up to.

  “You, you make me wet when you look at me as if you want to devour me. As if you can’t wait to fuck me on the nearest flat surface. No one has ever looked at me like that before, it makes me want to be devoured.” Her fingers disappear deep inside her until she’s panting.

  “I want you to take me, bend me over and fuck me from behind, deep, so deep all I know is the feel of you inside me.” Her free hand comes up to her breast rolling and tugging at the tight nub. She moans, her eyes flutter closed.

  “Look at me, Anne.” Her moan comes from deep inside her as our eyes meet. “Good girl. Now come, sweetheart, come for me.”

  Her whole body tenses as I see her fingers move faster inside her, and then she’s moaning my name as all the air leaves her lungs. She gives in to the need of her body and her eyes close. Her body shudders, her tight nipples sway with the movement that overtakes her. Her sleepy sigh of my name makes me so hard I ache.

  How I keep from coming myself simply from watching her, I have no idea. Nothing I’ve seen compares to watching her. My phone rings, pulling us both from the hazy moment. Fuck.

  Pulling the covers back over her I let them fall. “Now that you’ve turned my cock to stone, I’m off to the office. I have no idea how long I’ll be, but I will be home tonight in time to tuck you into bed.”

  I leave before I can’t.

  The office is a fucking mess. My secretary, Glenda, has been with me from the start here in Chicago, going on fifteen years now. She does what she can, but she manages paperwork not people. Terry Shaunessy, the man I picked to run the day to day operations of my company is making me regret my two year old decision. Although mine is a billion dollar company, it’s a small one. For what I do it doesn’t need to be bigger.

  I write programs and software. My stuff does everything from pinpointing the spread of disease in a city to writing an insurance policy. While I spend my days writing code, I write at a broad level. My employees write the code to build around the core I’ve written. Basically, they make it pretty.

  I made my first million selling, in my eyes at sixteen, the neatest thing I’d ever made; it was designed to discover patterns for recurrent illnesses. I sold it to a medical company for one million three hundred thousand dollars and I soared high for weeks. Believing it was going to something for a good reason, I learned later they used it to figure out how to market to men with erectile dysfunction and that brought me down to earth with a thump.

  It pissed me off, causing me to decide to be more informed of how my software was being used. While noble it was ultimately a self-defeating exercise. After years of frustration, I just write the backbone and leave it to m
y programmers to clean up the code and make it presentable. What happens to it when I am done isn’t something I can think about.

  My company is comprised of seventy programmers working different projects, then running beta testing. There were usually about three, but I’ve gotten as large as having five projects at a time. I have a small inhouse team to measure goals, package a complete product, and then find buyers. The admin staff only totals ten or so, depending on any given project. We have the whole floor and only use about half for cubicles that are much larger than the norm, per staff demands I was more than happy to agree to. The remaining floor houses a break room with two of every small appliance known to man, free snacks—of them healthy, most of them not. There’s also an air hockey table, pool table, and three arcade games that revolve once a quarter.

  Eyes rolled at the demands and suggestions of the air hockey table, and all the other extras but it worked. My programmers were happy and turnover was so low I only have three people for human resources. Having to be at the office meant Terry had pissed off most of my programmers. They were now saying fuck it and playing World of Warcraft rather than trying to figure out where the supposed bug was, and how to fix it. In the last two years, this was the second time Terry had pushed my programmers past their point of willing to deal. It’s also the last time.

  Walking into the office on the twentieth floor of a building on Van Buren, I’m met by Terry. He’s talking as he walks toward me, I don’t hear a word.

  “You’re fired, get your shit. You aren’t cut out to manage a fucking boy scout group. Your last check will be mailed, don’t put me down as a reference if you want a job. Security is on the next elevator up.”

  Glenda hands me files before I ask. It’s exactly what I want. A file of my top five programmers who would make a good replacement for Terry. I’m still pissed at the person Terry had to replace. I pick up the phone to tell her that. She answers on the second ring.