Manhattan Sugar (From Manhattan Book 1)

by V. Theia

  “Sure.” I found myself agreeing as I curled up on the side on the couch and pulled a throw blanket over my legs, picturing him in his office.

  Was he wearing a power suit? Maybe something casual? I wondered if he was intimidating as a boss or one of those do-good rare breeds. I wanted him to be the former and it had nothing to do with me having fantasies of him pushing me over his granite kitchen island, pulling down my underwear and punishing me with spanks.

  Nope. Nothing at all to do with that.

  Large hands. Perfect for spanking.

  I cleared my throat and tried to relocate thoughts from the possibility of Gray being a little rough and forceful.

  “Hey, are you with the shoes now?” I asked and caught his amusement as he answered. “Shoes and cereal. I’m learning a lot about you, India. Ready to move in? I might have samples at home.”

  Oh, that taunting bastard.

  I was tempted.

  “Maybe I’ll just drop by and visit. The shoes. Not you.”

  “Come any time. In fact, have a key. How is the house hunting going?”

  He would have to ask, wouldn’t he? I groaned and threw an arm over my eyes, kicking my legs out straight beneath the blanket.

  “I think I’m going to end up being a bridge troll. I hear the Hudson is nice this time of year.”

  A great big rattling growl came down the line. “India.” The way he stretched out my name had those same naughty-girl thoughts travelling back through my mind, taking up root, planting their kinkiness front and center with Gray and his sexy growl the star of the show. “What’s it gonna take for you to agree to my offer?”

  Hm.

  Sex every night and three times on Sunday sounded a good place to start a bargain.

  He really wanted me as a roommate? Was he lonely? I hadn’t factored that.

  A man in his early forties living alone, no kids in the background, he said he had partner. Maybe he needed company.

  But I was not the best choice.

  I tested the waters. Knowing he was attracted and wanted to sleep with me didn’t make my nerves any less nervous.

  “Okay, say I agree … is this roommate with benefits or strictly professional?”

  “It’s whatever you want it to be. If you wandered into my room and climbed into my bed I’m not gonna kick you out,” listening to Gray was probably not the best distraction I could think of. Not when he confused and enticed me and made me want … things.

  I couldn’t and wouldn’t.

  Before I could get the words hook-up out of my mouth he followed up with. “I think we could have something special, India. You felt it last year, didn’t you?”

  Yes. God, yes.

  “You felt it today and last night as upset as you were. It was still there searing between us. Take a chance. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Oh, I laughed without humor. If only he knew what came of me taking a chance. And it was too dangerous for me to even contemplate.

  “I’m almost broke, Gray. I have responsibilities, no job and I’m kind of a mess right now. I can think of a thousand better roommates for you.”

  “I want you.” Thunderstruck. “Let me take care of you. For as long as you need. You can take your time looking for a job. I’ll pay whatever debts you have.”

  Jesus, H Christ. Was he for real?

  I sat up suddenly, headrush made me pause. “You realize I was joking about being your sugar baby, right? Tell me you know I was joking.”

  He laughed hot and throaty, swagger in his tongue as it curled around my throat as warm as if it were his palm holding me down. “Baby-girl, I take everything you say seriously, you’ll get to know that in time. I don’t fuck around with what I want. I’ll always be honest with you. And seriously—It makes me hard as stone to know you’d rely on me for everything.”

  Holy, fucking crap.

  He wanted to be my sugar daddy.

  This was happening.

  This conversation was in real life happening right now as my heart rate enlarged hard enough I heard it thudding through my knee caps.

  “Say yes, baby-girl. Let me give you everything to see you smile. Allow me to take some of your burdens for a little while.” And then he threw gasoline on my already raging inferno when his naturally deep voice dropped an octave and I reckoned it was his fucking to oblivion voice. “Say yes, and I’ll come and get you. I’ll never see you upset again, nothing will hurt you again, India. You want it, I fucking taste it in my mouth. I want it. I want to taste the truth on your tongue like you gave me last night. You were so fucking honest. Say yes….”

  “Gray … I.”

  Never had I been so incredibly tongue-tied or turned on or offended or confused in my entire life.

  Every emotion screamed for attention listening to him quietly breathing as he gave me space to answer since he’d stated his case so eloquently. I was perspiring all over and wet between my legs squeezing my thighs together to stop the ache at the apex.

  A lifetime of independence, of being the one in charge and responsible for everyone I just couldn’t say yes.

  He was offering me peace. For a day. A week. A month. However, long.

  I’d seen websites about sugar babies and always wondered how gold digger’ish did a woman need to be to feel justified in opening her legs for just any rich bastard?

  Gray was different.

  I was attracted to him in fresh, new, terrifying ways.

  Wildly attracted to him.

  And yet.

  I couldn’t find that one word he wanted from me.

  “I’m sorry,” I heard him sigh. “I just can’t. Bye, Gray.”

  Before he could speak I hung up.

  My heart thudded.

  Palms sweaty.

  And my pussy pulsed with the need to come.

  My phone in my hand pinged, scaring me.

  Sugar Daddy: I want you. Don’t disappear on me, India. I’m the guy. The one you can be safe with. You can’t raise the cereal alone. Call me anytime. Day or night. I’m here for you.

  Funny and sweet.

  Gray was a heady intoxicating kind of man.

  And apparently, he was waiting by the phone until I changed my mind.

  At least I was back in control now.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and moved my butt to fix another bowl of cereal.

  India: Are you awake? Did Japan call?

  Sugar Daddy: Awake and thinking of you. Talking to Japan wasn’t as fun as a mean girl.

  Oh, he had jokes at 3 am. Sweet man.

  I really should change his screen name. Nah. It suited him. Particularly when he persisted on trying to throw his money at me. My best friend had a moneybag’s husband, as she liked to call him when he tried to buy her every little thing she’d ever mentioned in her whole life. I’d laughed and told her to grab it all.

  Now here I was, and a successful, gorgeous man was trying to offer me everything and I wasn’t snapping his hand off.

  Because I didn’t want Gray for his money.

  And I didn’t want him to think I only talked to him for his money.

  I worried what he thought about me.

  I wasn’t a money hungry barbie even if I always professed to friends to needing a rich man.

  Sugar Daddy: Can’t sleep? Should I come over and fix that?

  Why did my mind go to the dirtiest solution for insomnia first?

  I inhaled and set my head back on the pillow. He made me act silly and out of sorts and that wasn’t me.

  I liked being in charge.

  I liked the chase if it was me doing the chasing.

  I didn’t know how to handle this side of the man who hid nothing and who appeared to have no ulterior motives.

  But he sure was fun. And a diversion while I couldn’t sleep thinking about the million things I needed to do tomorrow, starting with taking the ferry to Staten Island.

  India: That’s a nice offer, Sugar D. But I heard if you’re from the Upper Ea
st Side you turn to dust if you step on this side of Manhattan.

  He was so sexy with his silver spoon in his mouth. He didn’t talk like any New Yorker I knew. I loved the slightly rich quality to his voice and I was tempted to call and have him talk me into a rousing orgasm before falling into a sated sleep. But that was too dangerous.

  Not a minute later.

  Sugar Daddy: The more you call me that the greater I believe it’s what you want, baby-girl. Let me come and rock you to sleep.

  With his cock in me. I instantly filled in the rest of that sentence and groaned burying my face in my hand as my pussy twitched wanting that very thing. If I concentrated carefully, remembering the thick shape of him through his jeans and the up-close view I’d gotten of his dick in his sweatpants—a thick log resting against his leg, I could just about imagine how he’d feel inside me.

  Too big.

  Too thick.

  Pushing and pushing until he fit.

  God. I was so hot. I kicked the blanket off my legs and exhaled my frustration.

  Sugar Daddy: With my cock shoved tight inside you.

  OH.

  MY.

  GOD.

  I lost all spit on my tongue and air, where the hell was the air in here?

  Was that joker reading my mind?

  One handed I held the phone, because the other little bitch had slid down my belly directly into my sleep shorts to diddle the ache away.

  Jesus, that felt good. I was wet, swollen. My poor, little neglected clit was so hard and needy I moaned up at the ceiling.

  Picturing being held down and having Gray shove, shove, shove inside me until he fit all of himself into me had shivers flashing down between my restless legs.

  What was I doing driving myself crazy like this?

  Whatever I was doing, it seemed I had zero intention of stopping when fingers on both hands kept their motion going.

  I misspelled so much I growled and pulled my hand from my shorts. As horny as I was I couldn’t have a text that looked like a blind duck had written it.

  India: You keep talking like that and I’ll come.

  Yeah. I sent it. I was ballsy at 3am.

  It took not even ten seconds.

  Sugar Daddy: Ask me and I’ll make it happen.

  That dictatorial bastard. I had a good mind to turn my phone off and finish myself off. All it would take was a stroke or two. Or even a deep penetration from a favorite vibrator. I didn’t ask. And I certainly did not beg.

  Who did the rock star think he was?

  Scowling at the words on screen as if I could magically change them, another text followed.

  Sugar Daddy: Imagine how good I could make you feel, baby-girl.

  Sugar Daddy: So wet, soaking my fingers, wouldn’t you?

  Sugar Daddy: You can ask me. For anything. It’s yours.

  Jesus. I chuckled. Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly.

  Me being the fly.

  A very fucking horny fly.

  It’s sexting. Something I’d done a million times before. Okay, not that much, but I was versed in the art. It was easy. Just tell him to say something filthy and make me come while I read his dirty words.

  But the longer I stared at the screen, knowing he was waiting for a reply, probably in his own big bed, I faltered.

  Was he hard and wanting?

  Why did I find it so difficult to give up control, even with fucking sexting?

  I was insane.

  Borderline crazy. Had to be.

  Because no matter how much I wanted to type please tell me more, I couldn’t.

  And I didn’t.

  Control was all I had right now and even that was pitifully small.

  A hot guy wanted to make me come.

  Boo-hoo. Feel sorry for me. Start a telethon in my name.

  Sugar Daddy: One day you’ll ask me for everything you need, crave and long for, baby-girl. I’m patient. Get some sleep. If you need me, call. Xx

  Those damn kisses again.

  I stroked my thumb over them before placing my phone on charge by the bed and I curled up on the opposite side, so I wasn’t tempted to read over our conversation like a teen with her first crush.

  He unhinged me in a good way.

  But Gray Ellison was driving me crazy.

  ~*~*~

  The next morning, before coffee had touched my lips my phone pinged.

  It was either the phone company … bad news… or my mom … ugh.

  My belly bottomed for both scenarios, but a smile emerged a second later.

  Didn’t he ever sleep?

  Sugar Daddy: Choose – Blue or Gray?

  India: I need more information. What kind of blue? What kind of Gray?

  Sugar Daddy: Fuck. Aren’t they all the same?

  India: You are in fashion, rock star … no, they’re not all the same, you heathen.

  Sugar Daddy: I’m merely the conduit between seller and buyer. I have teams of designers to decide the stock.

  Sugar Daddy: Now help me choose a tie.

  Who says merely in a text? Sexy snob.

  I grinned into my coffee and grabbed my blond hair in a fist to tie it on top of my head ready for my workout DVD. My life might be in the trash currently, but I wouldn’t neglect the one good thing I had left. Hips and ass didn’t give a fuck if I was nearly dirt broke or about to be homeless, those bitches would get fat to spite me.

  India: I need more info. What suit are you wearing?

  Well-tailored suits could give me major lady-boners and since I didn’t get myself off last night my body was screaming at me now for that oversight.

  Please me, pleasure me.

  The familiar facetime bell rang, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

  He was video calling while I was in my ratty oversized vest top, no bra ...shit … and my yoga shorts. I hadn’t even washed my face.

  Great. I let it ring before I sighed and answered.

  Not like I was gonna date him. He could see me looking hideous.

  His face filled my screen and blood rushed to between my legs.

  If I had a cock it would be standing to attention.

  “You realize only assholes call at dark o’clock, rock star.”

  He groaned and then flashed me a glistening white smile. His charcoal hair was perfectly sex-mussed, sweeping in all directions but I could tell it was styled by wax and fingers. His jaw was smooth and the shirt he wore was pure white against the tan of his throat.

  In a word, he was delicious.

  “Don’t turn me on by being mean, baby-girl, you had your chance last night to digitally ravage me.” Oh, my god. He had zero filter. “Now help me choose a tie. Which is your favorite?” He held two in his fist.

  I bit back a smile and hoped I looked at least a little sassy holding the phone at arm’s length.

  I could eat at least while he posed there being completely bangable, in what looked like the biggest closet I’d ever seen.

  Damn his sex hair.

  I propped the phone up against my coffee cup, making sure it faced the kitchen as I pulled out a bowl, milk and a box of my gifted cereal.

  A little excited to dive in to some sugary bae.

  “Just hold on, I need food if I’m to make this kind of decision for you East Side royalty.” I lifted on to my tiptoes and shoved the box back into the pantry. My belly groaned with hunger, and I had a mouthful when I turned back to the phone.

  To see Gray staring. Had the screen froze? No, he blinked.

  The cereal turned to sawdust in my mouth and I couldn’t produce enough spit to swallow it. chancing death, I forced the lump down.

  My eyes flickered.

  I knew that look he was giving me as he licked his lower lip.

  “Jesus, India. Fuck.”

  “What?”

  “Your fucking shirt. It has no sides. I can see your beautiful fucking tits.”

  Oh? That? I shrugged and shoved in another spoon of Lucky Charms.

 
“It’s my workout shirt, I didn’t think I’d have to put my tiara on for anyone this early.” I explained. “I’m magically delicious.” I grinned and toasted him with my spoon before it went into my mouth.

  “You’re fucking perfect. Let me come over. I’ll work you out.”

  Again, with the sawdust. Did this man have a vendetta against me eating? I slammed down the bowl, sloshing milk onto the counter and grabbed my phone bringing it right to my unwashed face.

  He grinned, and my pussy begged.

  I moaned in my throat. I was blaming his sex hair. No one should look that good at serial killer hours.

  “I heard that,” he informed like a smug motherfucker.

  “You heard nothing and stop with the dirty flirting and show me these damn ties you can’t choose yourself.”

  Truth was I found it incredibly arousing he wanted my opinion on what to wear and after I chose the light blue one ... and after educating him on all the different shades of blue, he then propped his phone against a huge mirror and I watched his reflection tie it skilfully, his long, deft fingers tucked and knotted, and I was hypnotized.

  “How does it look?” He spoke into the mirror and I swallowed.

  “Fuckable.” Traitorous tongue.

  Gray laughed throatily. “Thank you, baby-girl. Not really the look I was going for to meet with my accountant, but I’ll take it.”

  We shared a coffee together on video chat.

  So weird, and yet I was … enchanted. That was a good word for it. An out-of-place word but it fit everything about Gray’s charms that seemed to come naturally to him. Nothing out of his mouth was forced or sleazy.

  I only hoped he would do something to turn me off him, but as minutes ticked by and he smiled and laughed I became more enchanted.

  “What does your day look like? Have any spare minutes for an old man to try and win you around?”

  “Depends on the old man. I know several.”

  He growled staring warningly at me. A genuine book boyfriend kind of growl. I thought those things were myths. Another thing to share with my best friend if I ever got around to telling her I was having a low-key flirtation—possible relationship—nearly sugar daddy contract with her boss.