Sugar Boss (Sugar Daddies Book 2)

by Charity Parkerson

  Sugar Boss

  Sugar Daddies Book #2

  Charity Parkerson

  The scanning, uploading, and distributing of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Brief passages may be quoted for review purposes if credit is given to the copyright holder. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. Any resemblances to person(s) living or dead, is completely coincidental. All items contained within this novel are products of the author’s imagination.

  --Warning: This book is intended for readers over the age of 18.

  Copyright © 2018 Charity Parkerson

  Editor: Vicky Reese

  Photographer: Eric Battershell

  Cover Model: Eric Ten Brink

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-946099-34-1

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Author Note

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  About the Author

  Author Note

  Sugar Fighter and Sugar Boss have concurrent timelines. When the story reaches present day, you’ll see where the timelines collide. On a different note, Zander has a very dark past. While his past is never shown, only alluded to, if you’re extra sensitive to violence you might be bothered. I’m a firm believer in happy endings. Zander deserves his more than most.

  Introduction

  Zander didn’t get where he is by playing nice. Everyone has a price. Maverick is no exception.

  Maverick knew when he met Zander he’d have to set boundaries. Zander Kapra already has more than any one man should, and Maverick doesn’t intend to join the list of faceless men Zander has probably bedded. It doesn’t help that Zander is in the position to make or break Maverick’s MMA career. Maverick would never let any man have that kind of power over him.

  As owner of all the Luna hotels and casinos on the West Coast, Zander controls who can enter bet fights in his cages. Maverick caught his eye months ago. Every Friday night, Zander makes a point of being wherever Maverick is, stalking him. Waiting for his chance. There’s something about the cocky fighter. Zander has to have him, but Maverick doesn’t treat him like everyone else. It doesn’t matter. Zander didn’t get where he is by playing nice. He gets who he wants. Whenever he wants them. He won’t allow Maverick to be an exception.

  From day one, Maverick and Zander struggle for dominance, but Maverick has bigger problems than Zander’s overbearing ways. Zander’s secrets might be a harder punch than he can take.

  One

  The man’s stare was distracting as hell. Every Friday night. Same seat. Same light-blue gaze. Maverick knew exactly where the man was at all times. He no longer fought to win. Maverick fought because those goddamn beautiful eyes watched his every move. So much blood stained the mat inside the cage, Maverick couldn’t begin to guess what color it had originally been. Cage fights weren’t for the squeamish. All Maverick cared about was the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the roar of the crowd assaulting his ears. He had no illusions. They weren’t cheering for him. It was all about the money. Their addiction to gambling. None of it was for him. It took everything he had not to look the sexy blue-eyed man’s way. Maybe one person was there for him.

  Tonight, his match lasted longer than usual. His muscles screamed, but his arms lifted in victory. There were no speeches here. One fight ended. Another pair squared off. Maverick ducked from the cage. An ice-blue gaze met his. Dark suit. Perfect, long blond hair. Beautiful. They’d never met, but Maverick knew him. Everyone knew Zander Kapra. As Maverick passed him, their gazes never wavered. Maverick’s heart sped. Heat grew between them. Damn. The dude was amazing, but—like every Friday night—it was over as quickly as it began. They never spoke.

  Maverick didn’t understand how a complete stranger could consume him, but this man did. Every Friday night, Maverick went home alone with the fantasy of him. Maybe tonight, he’d find someone new. Someone real. Fingers encircled his arm, stopping him before he made it inside the locker room. He spun. A behemoth of a man stared him down at him. His dark eyes didn’t look mean exactly. It was more like the man had never met anyone or anything that scared him. Maverick was pretty sure that included bears. The dude was massive.

  “Mr. Kapra would like to know if you’d join him for dinner?”

  The man’s thick accent was a surprise. It caught Maverick’s attention. His gaze shifted over the man’s shoulder, landing on the light blue eyes that always set Maverick’s skin on fire. The heat staring back at him almost burned him alive. Maverick’s mouth watered. Damn, he’d never been more tempted. He focused on the man’s bodyguard. “Tell Mr. Kapra, if he works up the courage to ask me himself, I’ll say yes.” The way the man’s dark eyebrows lifted in surprise might’ve been funny if Maverick had stayed around to enjoy it. Instead, he dipped inside the locker room before the guy thought of a way to respond.

  It wasn’t until he had hot water streaming down his body that Maverick realized he was smiling like an idiot. He tried rearranging his features. Possibly he’d made a mistake, but Maverick didn’t think so. Men like Kapra probably always got their way. Maverick was interested, but if the man didn’t want him badly enough to tax himself even a little, there was no sense in Maverick wasting his time. He’d find out next Friday if he’d completely fucked up any chance of meeting his delicious obsession if the man didn’t come to his fight. A wave of sadness washed over Maverick. What if his sexy blue-eyed admirer didn’t show? He couldn’t imagine not seeing the man in his usual front row seat.

  With his shower out of the way, keys and gym bag in hand, Maverick headed for the door. He tried not to think about the possibility of never seeing the man again. As he stepped out into the crowded hallway, he found his path blocked. Blue eyes held him hostage. Expensive cologne had him breathing deep.

  “So, you doubt my courage?”

  He had a smooth voice. One Maverick wanted to listen to all night. Maverick wanted to play with him. “Not if you’re here to ask me to dinner.”

  The man’s mouth twitched, as if he found Maverick humorous. He held out his hand for Maverick to shake. “I’m Zander.”

  “Maverick,” Maverick said, shaking the man’s hand. He didn’t want to let go. It was over too soon. Up close, Zander was even more gorgeous than Maverick thought. There were laugh lines around his eyes. Delectable.

  “I know,” Zander said, forcing Maverick to pay attention to their conversation. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  Maverick’s gaze slid to the two men who stood nearby, eyeing the crowd in case they had to take someone down to protect their boss.

  “Will we be eating alone?”

  “We’ll be alone at a table.”

  Maverick met Zander’s stare. “Where would you like to meet?”

  Zander’s mouth twitched again. It was obvious he didn’t know what to make of Maverick. “Are you afraid to ride with me?”

  Maverick didn’t back down. “My mama always told me not to accept rides from strangers.”

  As Maverick’s southern accent deepened, Zander’s obvious amusement kicked up a notch. His eyes swam
with laughter. “We could head upstairs and visit the hotel restaurant. That way you’re in no danger of being molested or turning up dead in a ditch.”

  Maverick dipped his chin and motioned toward a nearby elevator while trying not to laugh at Zander’s statement. After all, he’d started it. “The upstairs restaurant sounds good to me.” When Zander turned away, Maverick’s gaze dropped to the man’s ass. Damn, the guy was perfect. He was a few inches shorter than Maverick, but at six-five, everyone was. Zander was slender and screamed money. Maverick had always had a weakness for beautiful, expensive men. As they rode the elevator to the main floor, Maverick couldn’t stop staring. There was some gray mixed in Zander’s light-colored hair. Maverick had to take a breath to get his racing heart under control. Age meant experience and stamina. Damn. Zander punched all the right buttons. As the door slid open, Zander’s gaze moved Maverick’s way. For a moment, they held each other’s stare. Neither of them smiled. There was too much heat between them. This man didn’t play games. Maverick felt it in his gut. It took all Maverick’s concentration to keep his breathing steady. Every time he’d seen Zander, he’d known it was only a matter of time before they ended up here.

  At his appearance, staff raced to accommodate Zander, finding them a private table in record time. Maverick stashed his bag under the table. Zander’s guards didn’t sit with them, but they stood close enough that Maverick never forgot they were there.

  “How does a boy from Texas end up here?” Zander asked, focusing his full and powerful attention on Maverick.

  Maverick didn’t bother asking how the man knew where he was from. Zander Kapra probably knew everything about everyone and was only asking to make conversation. “By way of the Marines,” Maverick said, letting the man have his way. “I was stationed here and quickly learned I wasn’t made for military life, but I was born for this place. The moment I could get out, I did. I trained to become a firefighter and stayed.”

  Wine and food appeared at the table even though they’d never ordered. Maverick wanted to chafe against being given a meal he might not want, but it was steak, and he fucking loved steak. He couldn’t bitch.

  Zander eyed him as if testing his reaction.

  Maverick knew when to pick his battles. He cut into his food.

  Zander waited until Maverick’s mouth was full to respond. “I meant, how does a boy from Texas end up here,” he said, tapping the table. “Fighting in a casino and not on the circuit. I’ve seen several of your matches. You have talent. If you wanted, you could be famous. For some reason, you’ve chosen not to try.”

  Maverick carefully swallowed and took a sip of his wine to give himself time to think before answering. Plus, he wasn’t entirely certain how to take Zander’s observations. In the end, the truth was always the best. “Talent isn’t enough to be an attention grabber. There are countless men who can do what I do and want to be famous. You have to be a showman or special in some way to make it to the top. I’m not. Special, that is,” he added, since Zander’s expression hadn’t changed.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  Maverick didn’t see any point in lying. “Yes.” He imagined everyone who fought professionally knew Zander Kapra. He owned a chain of hotel casinos where most West Coast fights were held and heavily bet upon—Luna Hotels. The hotel they currently sat in.

  Zander cocked his head. His face remained blank. “Did you accept my dinner invitation because of who I am?”

  A smile tugged at Maverick’s lips. He couldn’t help it. He had accepted for that reason, but not in the way Zander meant. It wasn’t the hotels or money. Nor did it matter what Zander could do for his career. For Maverick, it was the countless Friday nights with Zander’s stare eating him alive. It was the unquenched lust that owned Maverick every time their eyes met. “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because you asked,” Maverick answered without hesitation.

  A small smile touched Zander’s lips, making the man look more like he had an evil secret than he was amused. “No matter your reasons,” Zander said, waving off Maverick’s answer. “I could do more for your career than you’ve ever dreamed. If you’re interested.”

  Maverick’s smile fell. “I’m not.”

  Zander’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”

  Maverick tossed back his wine before he lost his chance. It looked more and more like their time together was coming to an end. He flashed Zander a smile he didn’t feel. “I love everything about MMA. This is my family. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want a title or for everyone to know my name. The thing is, I’m not an idiot. If someone offers you everything you want, but they’re also in the position to take away everything you love—run. The moment they think they no longer own you or you stop dancing to their invisible strings, they will destroy you, and nothing is ever free. So, I guess the real question is—why did you ask me to dinner?”

  Zander’s mouth lifted in one corner in one the sexiest smirks Maverick had ever seen. His gaze wouldn’t waver from their delicious fullness. “You know why,” Zander said forcing Maverick’s gaze back to his. “My strings aren’t invisible. You should stay with me tonight.”

  A bright smile, one that was out of his control, snapped to Maverick’s lips. “You should ask me out again. When you’re not trying to buy me, that is.”

  “Is that your way of telling me no?” Zander didn’t look annoyed. The opposite, in fact.

  Maverick couldn’t stop teasing him. “I’m not that easy. You should get to know me. Unless you’re only looking to scratch an itch, then you should go away. I’m not your guy.”

  Zander didn’t bite. He stood. “Let me walk you to your car.”

  Maverick didn’t budge. “With your security escorting us?”

  “Of course,” Zander said, holding out his hand for Maverick. “They’re used to seeing everything while seeing nothing.” An unexpected sexy-sounding chuckle escaped Zander, making Maverick’s breath catch. “Unless you plan to molest me inside your car. If so, I’ll find them something else to do.”

  With a shake of his head, Maverick grabbed his bag and stood. “You’re safe in my company,” he said as he accepted Zander’s outstretched hand. Their fingers linked. Maverick spent a moment wondering if his knees would hold him at the pressure of Zander’s palm against his. He had never been so instantly enthralled with anyone.

  Heads turned their way as they passed. Pride rose in his chest. Maverick knew he was out of his league. Most likely, he’d never hear from Zander again, especially since he’d made it clear he wasn’t for sale, but—for the moment—this gorgeous man was his.

  “You’re smiling,” Zander said without looking his way.

  Maverick tried rearranging his features.

  Zander turned his head. Blue eyes focused on him. “Don’t stop. Happiness looks damn sexy on you. I meant for you to tell me your thoughts.”

  With that one statement Zander made it more than obvious he was used to people anticipating his needs before him. “You didn’t ask for them.”

  A loud sigh escaped Zander. He looked away. The sound had Maverick’s smile reappearing. “Thank you for having dinner with me. I would very much like to know why you’re smiling.”

  Maverick didn’t answer until they were at his truck. He opened the driver’s side door, found a pen and an old receipt, and jotted his number on the back. Maverick held it out to Zander. “I’m smiling because I think you’ll call.”

  Zander’s fingers closed around the paper and Maverick’s hand. He tugged, pulling Maverick against him. Maverick automatically dipped his head the second their bodies touched. Their lips met. The world disappeared. If the man’s security stood inches away or had abandoned them at the door, Maverick couldn’t say. He lost track of everything except the man kissing him. It wasn’t explosive. Instead, it was sexy as fuck. Zander held Maverick’s bottom lip between his, sucking lightly while making no attempt to deepen their kiss or touch him in any other way. Maverick’s usual controlling n
ature disappeared. Zander owned him in that moment.

  Zander took a step back. Maverick’s body leaned forward as if chasing after the man with no input from Maverick’s brain. “Good night, Maverick.” Zander turned away before Maverick found his voice to respond.

  “Goddamn,” Maverick whispered under his breath as he watched the man go. He had a feeling he’d met his match.

  Pytor stood beside the back door of a black BMW 7, waiting for Zander. Yaro was already behind the wheel. He didn’t need to give his men instructions. Both men had been with Zander for years. They already knew he obsessed over things to the point of being considered psychotic. They couldn’t judge nor would they. As he crossed the underground parking lot, Pytor opened the door. Once Zander was safely ensconced in the back seat, the large Russian with odd eyes circled the car and joined him. Yaro waited for his opening before following Maverick at a distance. Just as they did every Friday night. Zander wouldn’t sleep unless he knew his fighter made it home safely.

  As they pulled into the parking lot of the townhomes where Maverick lived, Zander eyed the man’s red Dodge Ram parked in its usual spot. Yaro slowed, allowing Zander time to see the man’s living room light flare to life. He nodded, satisfied Maverick would be fine. Yaro pulled away, and Zander settled in for the drive home. His mind wandered. He could still remember the first time he’d set eyes on Maverick Abney. Zander hadn’t paid much attention to the man’s match. He’d been there on business. But the moment Maverick stepped from the cage, sweat coating his skin, Zander’s gaze had followed him. The way the man’s shoulders and hips moved—like a predator. He’d mesmerized Zander. The following Friday night, Zander had made a point of visiting the next hotel where Maverick had been scheduled to fight. As Maverick left the cage, their gazes had locked. For a moment, there was no air. Maverick’s eyes were the most beautiful shade Zander had ever seen. They were the color of honey with dark lashes making them seem lighter. Beautiful.