by B. B. Hamel
“I don’t want to be the kind of person that just... takes.”
“Pay me back one day when you can afford it, if that’s what you really want.” My heart is hammering in my chest as I move closer, inches away from her, and reach my hand out around her. I place it on the small of her back and pull her closer to me, lips pressed against her ear. “But I’d rather you just let me spoil you.”
There’s a moment where we’re pressed together, her hands on my chest, my heart beating hard. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. She’s nineteen, a fucking stranger, and yet I’m hard as hell and I want her so badly. It’s crazy, just thinking about buying her things, taking care of her, spoiling her, fucking her deep and rough, it drives me insane. I’ve never felt this way about someone before.
But the spell is broken when another shopper walks back into the sale section. We break apart, a little too quickly, and I clear my throat.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s try somewhere else.”
She nods and follows me back outside. We stop in a few different shops, and this time she doesn’t fight me as much as I expected to. I want her to buy more, but in the end she gets a couple pairs of pants and some warm sweaters.
“One more stop,” I say to her as we walk down the street. She moves close to me, holding my arm.
“What’s left?” she asks, laughing. “I feel like we bought everything imaginable.”
I glance down at her shoes. “You need boots,” I say. “Real, waterproof boots.”
“My toes are pretty cold,” she says, frowning.
“Right. And I don’t want to have to check them every day.”
“Liar. You like my feet.”
“No thanks. Not my thing.”
She squeezes my arm. “I have very pretty feet. Men tell me that all the time.”
I laugh at her mischievous look. “I almost believe you.”
“Gross,” she says, laughing. “Come on. You’re the first man that ever touched my feet.”
“Really? I’m honored.”
“You perv.”
“Maybe I can get into feet,” I say, musing. “I do like being a first.”
“Cut it out,” she says. “You’re going to make me gag.”
“I feel like it’s insulting that the idea of me touching your feet makes you gag.”
“Too bad,” she says. “These feet are off limits.”
“Okay,” I say. “Enough foot talk.”
“Thank you.” She nudges me. “Hey, do you know that guy?”
I follow her gaze. Standing across the street is Declan James, the head of Elliot’s security team. “I do,” I say.
“He’s been watching and following us for a while now,” she says.
“Damn,” I say softly.
“Who is he? Looks intense.”
“His name is Declan. And he’s an asshole.”
“Looks like one.”
Declan is about five foot nine, a few inches shorter than me. He’s bald and about forty-seven with a slight paunch and a graying beard. As we head toward the shoe store, Declan crosses the street ahead of us and turns toward me.
“Shit,” I say softly.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Carson,” Declan says, approaching. “Who’s this with you?”
Kylie lets go of my arm, sensing the situation.
“This is Kylie,” I say. “Kylie, meet Declan.”
“Pleasure,” he says to her.
She nods but doesn’t say anything. I step toward Declan, putting myself between him and Kylie.
“What do you want?” I ask him.
“Just been checking up on you. Heard you didn’t go into work today.”
“That doesn’t concern you or Elliot.”
“I was curious anyway. And I’m glad I was.” Declan looks at Kylie. “How old is she, Carson?”
“Watch yourself,” I say in low tones.
He smiles at me. “Or what? I think you’re the one that needs to be careful. Walking around with a pretty young girl like that. You know you’re famous in this town, right?”
“Fuck off, Declan. And tell Elliot to fuck off as well.”
“Do you know who he is?” Declan asks Kylie. “This man has never taken a woman seriously in his life. Let alone one that’s what, half his age?” Declan laughs.
I step up into his face, wanting badly to hit him, but I know I can’t. That might ruin my chances of getting the CEO job. I’m sure Declan has someone nearby, taking pictures just in case I did something stupid.
“Go now,” I say to him.
“Have a lovely day,” he says back, smiling.
He turns and walks off. I watch him go, anger rising through me.
“I don’t feel well,” Kylie says, pulling me back into the moment.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just think... you should drop me at the shelter.”
“The shelter?” I ask, confused.
“You’ve done enough for me. I just need a place to sleep. Homeless shelter will be okay.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Please. I don’t want to cause you trouble.”
“It’s winter. The shelter has been full for weeks.”
“I’ll work something out.”
“We can go back to my place if that’s what you want. But I’m not leaving you here alone to try and figure this out on your own.”
“You’ve done enough,” she says softly.
“No, I haven’t. We can stand here and argue all you want and get real fucking cold, or we can head back and sit in front of my fireplace. How’s that?”
“Okay,” she says, resigned. “I guess I can suffer through another night at your place.”
I laugh, pleased that she’s making a joke already. “Come on. We’ll suffer through this together.”
We head back toward my truck and get inside. I mentally make a note to buy her a pair of boots online and have them overnighted.
For now though, I’m going to enjoy this. I don’t know what my brother is going to do with this information about Kylie, but I don’t care. I’m sure Declan will think of something suitably shitty. I can’t let that bother me.
I don’t know why, but I found something that interests me, even makes me happy. I’m not going to let that go, not yet at least.
Kylie
We don’t talk much on the drive back. I can tell that Carson is lost in thought about something, and I don’t want to disturb him.
Besides, I have a lot to think about too. That moment out on the street was very strange and said a lot about Carson’s life here.
That man said that Carson is famous in this town. I can tell that Carson is rich, and his family clearly runs a huge oil business, but I don’t think I really realized exactly how big and famous they are. Oil must be a big deal up in Alaska, and his company is clearly one of the more profitable and bigger ventures.
And he’s in line for the CEO position. That’s a huge deal. A man like him probably can have or do anything he wants in this place, and yet for some reason he wants to spend his time with me. Declan said he was supposed to be at work. Clearly someone is keeping tabs on Carson.
There’s more to this story. Carson’s family life isn’t as good as maybe he wants it to seem. I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know that Carson being with a nineteen-year-old girl is probably not good for his reputation.
Still, I’m drawn to him, and I don’t want to leave. I’ll go and stay at a shelter if he wants me to, but I find it hard to say no to him and just walk away. He’s offering me too much and seems to genuinely like buying me things and giving me things. It feels very strange, taking from someone. I wish I didn’t have to.
But if I was going to take, I’m glad it’s from Carson. I want to pay him back one day, when I’m settled and have a job and can afford it. I know exactly how much he spent, and I’ll have that number in my memory for the rest of my life, or at least until I can afford it. Un
til then, I’ll do my best to be a good guest, and to find a job as fast as possible.
We pull into Carson’s garage and he kills the engine. I follow him into the house. “Go get comfortable,” he says, nodding at the kitchen. “Make a drink if you want.”
“Do you want anything?” I ask him.
“No, thanks.” He steps toward a closet and opens it up. I pause and watch as he grabs an axe from the back and a pair of gloves from a box on the top shelf.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, laughing.
“Splitting firewood,” he grumbles. “Forgot to do it last week.”
“Are you kidding? You just keep an axe in the front closet?”
He cocks his head at me. “Of course. Where else would I keep it?”
I laugh as he hefts it up onto his shoulder. “You know, like the garage?”
“But what if someone breaks in and I need to defend myself?”
“I don’t think an axe in your front closet is going to help much.”
“You assume this is the only axe I have in the house.”
My smile falters for a second. “It is the only axe, right?”
He laughs loudly. “Of course!” he says, heading out into the garage.
“I’m not reassured!” I call after him, and he just laughs and waves.
I shut the door behind him, shaking my head, a big smile on my face. I head into the kitchen and find the bottle of whisky he drank from the night before. I pour him a drink then open up the refrigerator.
I end up making him a little sandwich for when he gets back in. I have a little snack myself, sipping some seltzer water, and I gaze out the enormous window at the beautiful view. I sigh, sitting down on a stool at the kitchen counter, and prop my chin on my hands. I still don’t know how I ended up in a place like this. I went from terrified that I was going to freeze to death to living with some rich oil man that keeps an axe in his front closet.
Fifteen minutes later, Carson comes back in, stomping snow from his boots with an armload of split wood. “Fucking cold!” he shouts. I get up and shut the door behind him as he carries the wood over to the fire.
“Look at you,” I say. “What a man.”
“If you’re impressed by this, you’re in for some surprises.” He grins at me as he sets about starting the fire.
I get his whisky and his sandwich and bring them over. He grunts his thanks and eats the sandwich absently as he finishes up the fire. I sit down on the couch and watch him, amazed at how skillfully he moves and how intensely he concentrates. When the fire is up and roaring, he finally stands and sips his drink.
“Well, now,” he says. “That’s better.”
“Where’s your axe?” I ask him.
“Left it in the garage. Don’t want to spook you city ladies.”
I laugh. “City lady?”
“Sure. Never left LA before. You don’t know a thing about living out here.”
“That’s true,” I admit. “I’ll need someone to show me.”
He walks over and sits down next to me, stripping out of his outer layer and tossing it aside. I watch him carefully, trying to pretend like I’m not, but I can’t help it. The muscles in his arms are bulging from his work and I can see that his hands are a little rough, like he actually works with them, despite being a rich office worker.
“That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” he says to me, gazing back intently.
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay,” I say.
“I’ve been thinking. You need someone to help you... to take care of you. And I live in this big house.” I watch him, not sure where he’s going with this, but strangely excited anyway. The way he’s looking at me makes my palms sweat and the butterflies in my stomach work overtime.
“I have a proposition for you,” he continues. “You can live here for as long as you want. I’ll feed you, clothe you, give you whatever you want. I’ll spoil the hell out of you. In exchange, you’ll be mine. You’ll be all mine. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I nod slowly, and I can feel the excitement pooling between my legs. “You want to be my... sugar daddy.”
“That’s right,” he says. “I want to be your Daddy. I’ve lived in this big house alone for a long time, and I can’t pretend like I’m not drawn to you, Kylie. This can be good for both of us.”
I watch him, not sure what to say. I’ve never had a man proposition me like this before, let alone a man like Carson. Truth is, I’m totally out of my depth. I don’t have any experience having a daddy, let alone having one like Carson.
He’s so much older than I am. I know that should matter... but it doesn’t. It makes him more attractive, if anything. He’s mature, strong, he has experience. He can teach me much more than I even realize, and all I have to do is let him take care of me.
But it’s more than that. If I let him be my daddy, I’ll be reliant on him. Everything I’ll have will come from him. I ran away from my home, left everything I knew behind, just for some freedom. If I enter into this with Carson, I don’t know how free I’ll really be.
I’ll always owe him at some level. I don’t know how I’ll ever pay him back. Maybe he’ll expect things from me. Maybe even he’ll expect me to do things, though that’s not what he’s saying. And truth is, I don’t think I’d mind touching him, feeling him, letting him touch me. In fact, the more I look at him, the more I’m sure that I want it.
But I don’t know if I can give in to this. I’ve never had a man want to actually take care of me before. What if he gets bored and throws me out? I won’t have anything at all, no skills, no way to take care of myself. I’ll be back where I am right now, no better off, and maybe even a little worse for wear.
“You don’t have to decide now,” he says, sipping his drink and watching me. “Truth is, I’ve never had a woman like you before. I’ve never felt so protective. But I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. I want you to obey me... but I want you to want it.”
I nod. “I understand. It’s just, I don’t know. I have to think about it.”
“Okay,” he says, putting his hand on my leg. “Think all you want. Just know, I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never let you be where you were last night, no matter what happens. I’m going to take care of you, even if you say no.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, a sudden surge of feeling running through me.
“And if you say yes, I’ll make you feel good,” he says, his hand moving further up my leg, getting close to my soaking and heat-filled pussy. “I’ll make you feel better than you ever did. I think I can teach you more than how to survive in Alaska, Kylie. Much more.”
My heart beats hard in my chest as images of his toned and ripped body pressing up against mine fill me. I can barely control myself and I have to look away from him or else do something I might regret.
“I’ll think about it,” I say quickly, afraid to say more.
“Good.” He leans toward me, taking my hair in his hand and tipping my head back. I gasp softly but don’t move to stop him as desire floods through me. “Think as long as you want.”
He releases me and stands. I stare at him, eyes wide, breath coming in deep and ragged. I’m so excited I can barely sit still. I want more of him, so much more.
“I’ll be in my study. I have some work to do. It’s the first door on the left in the upstairs hallway. Let me know if you need anything.”
I nod, afraid to speak. He gives me a smirk and then leaves the room, glass in hand. My heart is beating hard in my chest and I can barely breathe. I wanted to jump at him so badly, kiss his rough lips, let his hard hands explore my soft body, but I didn’t let myself.
I’m afraid to give in too easily. If he gets bored with me, I don’t know what’ll happen. Maybe that means I’m playing the game, but I’m not sure. All I know is right now, I don’t have any other choices.
And I don’t really want any other ideas. My desire for freedom and my fear of getting tangled up with a
n older man are both being beaten out by my sheer desire for Carson. Even if he weren’t rich and couldn’t provide for me, I’d still want him, still be attracted to him. The fact that he can be my daddy and take care of me only helps.
I lean back on the couch and stare at the roaring fire, trying to figure out what the hell to do.
Carson
As soon as I get up to my office to check in, there are at least ten emails that need an urgent response. I quickly realize that I can’t do all this from home, and a trip into town is going to be necessary again.
I dress in my normal suit, explain to Kylie that the house is hers for a few hours while I go into the office, and then head out. The snow has let up and the roads are mostly clear, so it’s pretty easy going back into town.
I hate to leave Kylie alone after our conversation, but she clearly needs some time to process. She didn’t look disgusted or upset by the offer, but she didn’t immediately accept. I could tell that she was excited, and I bet she wanted me to kiss her in that moment, but I didn’t want to rush things.
I don’t want her to think this is just about sex, because it’s far from that. I feel a strange kinship with her, although she’s much younger than I am. More than that, it excites me to think about taking care of her. I love the idea of spoiling her, giving her everything she could want and more. The idea of having a young, beautiful woman dependent on me for her money, her food, her clothing, her shelter, it drives me wild.
I like the control it suggests. I don’t want her to feel like she’s stuck with me, but I do want to feel like I’m the one who’s protecting and taking care of her. There’s something incredibly sexual about that, although there’s not technically any sex involved.
Though I do want to touch her, and I will. We both know that’s just a matter of time. I won’t rush it, because I know better than to push too hard, but she’s going to come begging for it sooner or later.
I pull into the lot and park in my spot. Our office takes up three floors in the largest building in downtown Juneau. My father actually owns the building, and we could have more space, we simply don’t need it.