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His Sugar Baby

Page 9

by Fiona Murphy


  Carrie Ling laughs at me as I beg her to come back, seven years, it had been a good seven years. She agrees it had been, then reminds me she’d had her turn and now it was her husband’s turn. If she were in the United States she would come back, but working remotely from the time zone of China to Chicago was too much of a strain on her, Mick, and their two kids.

  She takes pity on me and helps me go through the files to find the replacement. Mi’schelle Torrance is a name I see with surprise. Carrie claps, laughing, to hear the woman’s name. Carrie hired Mi’schelle, a young woman who had struggled to get an associate degree in business administration. Mi’schelle is entirely self-taught, which isn’t anything new, eighty percent of my staff are self-taught.

  What is impressive is Mi’schelle put in her hours at the library, logged as a way of showing her hours spent coding. She hadn’t owned her own computer. She’s from Chicago, her former address in the heart of the southside. With all her hard work and business administration degree, she goes to the top of the pile.

  I tell Carrie goodbye and thanks for ruining my company, and hang up. Bringing up Mi’schelle’s computer I go through it. She worked in the office even though she didn’t necessarily have to. I have about a dozen people in various parts of the United States. It didn’t matter to me where my people were, only that they were good. All of the employees signed off, whether they read the fine print or not, to having their work computer monitored.

  Over the next two hours I go through her history for the last year. I like what I see. Her programming, bugs found, and the explanation of how she fixed them tells me I’ve found Terry’s replacement. I let Glenda know to begin the process of promoting the woman then turn my attention to the bug.

  Problem fixed, I blink and find my office dark. I check the clock in the corner of my screen, damn, nine-thirty. I’ve been at this five hours?

  Stretching, my back cracks and my stomach growls, I’m starving. While I shut down, I call down to the security desk for a cab. This late, the business district is a ghost town with no cabs to be found.

  In the elevator, I call Anne. “Hey, I’m just leaving work. Can you do me a favor and call down to room service? For a burger and fries, with bacon, lots of bacon, and no onions.”

  “No problem.”

  “What are you doing?” I hear an odd sound in the background.

  “I’m taking a very hot, soothing bath with the jets on.” Remembering what she said this morning, I swallow and nearly fall into the cab waiting for me. “I did some very strenuous yoga this afternoon. I’m feeling very flexible and soothed by these jets and ready for you to be home.”

  “Forget the burger. I’m not hungry for food.”

  Opening the door to the condo it’s dark, except for the light glowing down the hall from the open door of the master bedroom. The bedside table lamp is on, I like the way she doesn’t hide in the dark.

  She’s waiting, covers pulled back, in the center of the bed wearing nothing but a welcoming smile. Her back arches in invitation, “You were gone forever.”

  Tearing off my clothes, I wrap a hand around her ankle and yank her down to me. Her legs open wide for me, her hips rising to meet my mouth. “I’m here now. Fuck, you smell so damned good. You taste even better.”

  My cock strains at the sight of her pussy, wet for me. I tongue her lower lips, swollen and coated in her need. The taste of her explodes on my tongue and floods my senses, sweet, tangy, a ripe peach juicy at first bite running down my mouth. I love the way she gets so wet she overflows for me, her desire unhidden. She is a heady drug I need more of.

  Tonight, I had wanted to take more time, go slowly to better enjoy her. However, it isn’t long before I’m devouring her hungrily, as if I’m starving. She’s crying now, slipping both hands into my hair, begging for her release. I cover her throbbing clit, sucking hard in rhythm with her pounding heartbeat. When she comes she screams, her whole body shaking under my mouth.

  Looking down at her, my cock jumps to be inside her now, to feel her around me again. Remembering her fantasy as she touched herself to come for me, what she wanted from me. Rough hands pull her up, placing her into position. She moans, ‘yes,’ pushing her round ass back towards me. Her ass is the kind of perfection that exists in nothing more than a dream. I can’t resist taking a long minute to mold her sweet ripe cheeks as they quiver in my hands.

  “Grant, please.” Her gasp is dripping in need. I give her what we both want.

  She’s wet, so damned wet, I slide in deep with one hard thrust. Her hands clutch the pillows toward her as she sinks to her chest, leaving only her ass in the air. When I pull out she groans my name. Thrusting inside her, I fight not to come as her pussy grasps my cock. Fuck. She’s so damned tight already, but when she does that she brings my cock to the very edge.

  Sliding my hand up to her neck I hold her in place as I take over, fucking her so hard and fast her pussy can only take what I give her. With every furious stroke she begs for more, her breath nothing more than gasps. She comes without warning, burying her face into the mattress as she screams.

  I only last a few strokes more as her pussy spasms around my cock. When I come, I fight not to collapse on her as I had last night. She moans as I pull out, her body clutching around my limp cock sends another wave of pleasure through me. Jaw tight, I fall to the mattress, taking her with me, unwilling to let her go.

  Anne lets out a breathy moan of satisfaction as she turns and burrows into me, her head on my chest. I’m so fucking glad she can’t see my face as I struggle with the shock of how goddamned intense my feelings are for her. How I want to fuck her all over again and not stop until she is hoarse from screaming for me to stop. How I can’t think of a single woman before her who even came close to giving me as much pleasure as Anne does. How I want to taste every inch of her skin and commit it to memory. How every moment since I saw her has felt like it’s in technicolor and all the years, months, and days before her were in black and white and flat, without texture. What the fuck is going on?

  I have no idea how long I’ve been lost in my thoughts. Then Anne moves, her soft lips press into my chest and all the questions disappear. The only thing that matters is the feel of her lips on me. A soft hand moves over my chest, light and curious only skimming along my skin. Her breath quickens when she sees my nipple harden in response to her touch.

  I’m caught up in watching her study me, how her tongue sneaks out between her plump lips. A finger runs over my nipple and she smiles as it hardens even further. She looks up to see me watching her and the tip of her mouth goes up. “I didn’t get a chance to really touch you last night. I’ve kind of been wanting to do this all day.”

  I run my hand through her hair and marvel at the silver of her eyes, brimming with sexual curiosity. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

  With a happy smile she goes back to the flat nipple she had been playing with. “You are so hard, everywhere.”

  “Not right now, but if you keep this up I will be soon.”

  Her husky laugh fills the room and my chest until I forget to breathe. Fuck, I want to hear that again, every day. She doesn’t see my reaction, her attention on the light hair surrounding my nipple. “Hmm... you’re so soft then, underneath.”

  She trails off as her fingertips find the muscle along the first line of my six pack. Then her tongue is tasting the skin her fingers played over. Lower and lower, taking what feels like hours in her slow study of my body, alternating between soft licks and light kisses until she’s inches from my cock. When she sees it hard, her breath catches.

  A hand falls to my thigh as she becomes unbalanced. I want to move to catch her but don’t trust myself to. Her attention is on the muscle flexing beneath her soft hand. She runs her hand over my thigh slowly watching the play of the muscle.

  Looking up at me, she makes me glad I have never ever missed leg-day, as a sexy smile fills her beautiful face. Shaking her head, she says. “You aren’t like any computer n
erd I have ever seen before.”

  My cock jumps, ready to be inside her again, needing to fuck her again. She sees it and the smile is gone. Awe fills her face the same way it had this morning when she watched me. Her hand reaches out to touch me. I clench my jaw tight against the words that threaten to spill out. Only a finger skims down from below the head of my cock along the length of me.

  Fucking hell, she’s panting. Her breasts are swaying with her struggle to breathe deeply. Back up her finger runs along me until she encounters the precum leaking like a fucking faucet.

  “I’ve never wanted to touch someone before. I always thought they were ugly, too small, too big, too pink or too red.”

  Then she fucking kills me when she wraps her hand around the head of my cock and she strokes me once, twice. I don’t give her another second. I’ll be damned if she turns me into a man who can’t finish inside his woman.

  Catching her hand, I roll her under me. My cock enters her easily, she’s wet and ready for me. I work her leg under my arm and pull it up, allowing me to go deeper. We both moan as I sink into her.

  “I thought I could do anything I want.” She pants as her pussy squeezes my cock.

  I catch her mouth in a kiss I don’t let her up from until she’s limp underneath my mouth. “Yes, you can do anything you want, but you have to be prepared for the repercussions. You were about to make me come. I wasn’t about to do that all over your beautiful body, when I would rather do it inside you.”

  Her head back, her only response is a moan and her pussy tightening around my cock. Damn it, when she does that it turns me into a fucking beast. Fucking her fast and deep, she’s coming around my cock in minutes and I follow her while she’s still trembling. I nearly collapse on her, all bones liquid from what she does to me.

  Fuck, I can’t move. I try, and her hands go around me weakly. “Mmm... don’t move please. You feel so good inside me, all around me.”

  “Baby, I’m crushing you.” I manage to at least go up onto my elbows. Her legs come around me, I give up trying to move. I rest my forehead against hers, she smiles.

  “Thank you.” Her hand comes up to my cheek.

  “Hmm... just for a few minutes. Sorry I was gone all day. We’ll get your stuff tomorrow.”

  “It’s okay. Alice took care of everything. I packed up, and two very big guys had everything here within an hour. It’s okay, I know it was important. Did you get the problem fixed?”

  “Yeah, it’s all good. So, you’re all moved in?” I like the way she smiles as she nods.

  “Yep, I have all my stuff. Actually, there are some boxes of books my old roommate will send me, now that I have a permanent address. Other than that, I’m moved in.”

  “Is there anything you need? Your credit cards should come in another day or two, but if there’s something you need now you can use mine, or you can use my Amazon account to order what you want or need.”

  “I’m good, for the most part. I will probably need some bookshelves in the office for my books. I’m not in a hurry though.” Her hand roams down my neck into my hair then down my back as she talks. Then she cups my ass.

  “You’re killing me here.” I roll off her and she groans.

  I hug her tight to me. Before long I feel her slip into sleep. I don’t sleep so easily. It feels like hours I lay awake wondering what the fuck I have gotten myself into. What was it exactly? Was there still time to stop it? Did I really want to stop it?

  Anne moves, rolling away from me. She doesn’t get two inches before I pull her back into my arms. In her sleep she sighs happily and snuggles into me. With her happy sigh she cuts through all the bullshit swirling in my mind. Whatever this is I can’t stop it any more than I could stop a freight train. I also most definitely do not want to stop it.

  Chapter Eight

  The next week flies by in a whirl of hungry sex and so much paperwork it feels like I’m back at work. I order bookcases then spend the afternoon trying to put them together. After an hour all I have to show for my troubles are bruises over every inch of my legs.

  Grant wanders in after my twentieth curse word and promptly takes the screw driver and Allen wrench away from me. Less than twenty minutes later, with very limited help from me, I have bookshelves. His reward leaves us both sweat soaked, needing a shower, and back to bed.

  Meeting with the nutritionist isn’t fun. She has my self-confidence at an all-time low when Grant walks in. With a few words dripping in ice, the woman was shown the door. Then I’m carried to bed where Grant reminds of how much he loves my body exactly as it is.

  During the second week we’ve fallen into a loose schedule. In the morning, if I’m very lucky, I’m woken with delicious sex that has me out again for hours. Some mornings I manage to catch him in the shower, usually it’s after he’s worked out when he’s all hot and sweaty and lord the sex is so fucking hot then. On other mornings I’m very unlucky and make do with a long hot bath all alone.

  After breakfast I wander into my own office, enjoying the sweet perfume of peonies in pretty planters. I surf the internet, digging into new options for my life 2.0, stealing Robin’s phrase. Once the tension headache begins I give up, turn on some music, and start yoga. There is a workout room in the condo I had wandered into once. Grant made it clear he didn’t want me working out alone and preferred me not to work out all. When I teased him about not having to be nice about my body he took me up against the wall making it very clear he was anything but nice about how he felt about my body. I stick to yoga, by the time I’m done with yoga it’s usually time for lunch.

  I go into the kitchen for lunch and usually chat with Alice. After lunch I usually read in the living room or find my way to the television room. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Grant joins me for dinner. Then we find our way to the bedroom or, if I’m sore, the television room where we watch television with me naked in Grant’s arms.

  During those nights I introduce him to Supernatural. It’s then that we finally get to know each other better. At first, we only talk about the movies, television, and books we liked to read. We gradually share our first kisses, our favorite songs, silly musings. He finally gets me to tell about not having an orgasm until that fifth client, of growing up taught sex was for baby making only and not to be enjoyed. Grant thanks me for sharing my past with him and it feels like it’s a normal relationship without strings besides we want to be with each other.

  When I wake up sore I’m not surprised, it doesn’t help with the pain. I moan at the idea of getting out of bed. Grant’s at my side from I don’t know where, almost instantly. “Are you okay?” Embarrassed, I try to roll away from the edge of the bed he’s sitting on. “Anne, what’s the matter?”

  “It’s nothing, I’m fine. Please, please go away.” I moan, hiding under the covers.

  “What? Oh,” It clicks for him, last night I hadn’t felt well. Grant had been sweet about simply holding me when I told him once he came to bed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Hold on, let me get you some water and something for the pain.”

  He’s gone. I want to die from the pain and embarrassment. Then I think about having to go back to sleeping alone for a week, and I really want to cry. Grant is back, setting down the glass of water, he nudges me. “Anne, sweetheart, don’t hide. It’s okay.” He pulls me into his arms. “Alice is looking for a heating pad now. You can spend all day in bed, or the tub, for now at least try the over the counter pain pills to start. Please, sweetheart, don’t cry. Is the pain bad?”

  “I’m sorry, not really, this is embarrassing and hormones. Please ignore me. I’ll go lay down in the spare bedroom. I won’t bother you with all this for the week.”

  His arms tighten around me. “The fuck you will. You stay here. It won’t be easy just sleeping with you but I’m not willing to sleep without you.” I cry harder with relief, knowing he wants to sleep with me even without sex. There have been a few nights where I was asleep before he came to bed and he let me sleep, only pulling
me into his arms before he fell asleep. “Unless you want to go.”

  I’m quiet too long, he starts to pull away. My grip on him tightens as I fight to stop crying. “No, I don’t want to. I thought you’d want me to.”

  “I want you in bed, with me. Thanks, Alice. Here, Alice has the heating pad. Oh, and these are for period pain and hormones. Let’s get these instead.”

  His tone of relief makes me laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually all over the place, but I haven’t been on birth control in years. I guess these are a little different. The good thing, though, is this will probably the last month I’ll go through this.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, the birth control is one of those low dose things I can stay on and not have a flow. The doctor said if I keep taking it, by the second month my flow should be light and none by the third month.”

  “Is it safe? Especially after not being on birth control for a while. No wonder your hormones are all haywire.”

  With a sniffle, I shrug. “My doctor said it was. I’m happy for the reprieve. Thanks for being so nice. No one wants to wake up to all this.”

  “Don’t apologize to me for anything.” His phone is ringing in his office. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I have a conference call I need to take. Rest, Alice has put in an order for chocolate and the good ice cream.” He kisses my temple then he’s gone.

  For the rest of the week Grant surprises me with just how much he takes care of me. After I eat breakfast he checks on me to make sure I have everything I need.

  His touch is always tender as he tucks in the throw I like to have over me when I read or watch television. He even spends time talking with me about the book I’m reading, or sharing what he’s working on. I don’t know why it feels different from our late night talks, maybe because there’s no television to distract us. Grant’s full attention is a heady thing to enjoy. It isn’t for long, only about ten or fifteen minutes, but it feels even more intimate then sex for some crazy reason.

 

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