Manhattan Sugar (From Manhattan Book 1)

by V. Theia

  A beat of darkened silence, just when I thought he might be asleep I said. “I’m glad you were there today, Gray.”

  “Always, baby.”

  Two words. Two earnest words and my heart exploded.

  We’d become serious so fast.

  I didn’t know if it was something I was prepared for.

  But he was changing my life. And I felt invigorated.

  For a girl who had once lived for Manhattan’s nightclub scene in the not so distant past—we’re talking two months, tops. I’d settled into the domesticity way of living with a guy that following week like a duck took to water.

  Organizing Gray’s apartment became a full-time hobby and I loved it.

  I didn’t think Joe was having as much fun, not when I sent him all over the city to pick up packages for me.

  But casualties of war and all that, and sadly, Gray’s driver was mine. I’d needed those pillows from Nordstrom’s.

  On his way by me in the closet Gray dropped a kiss to the back of my neck. We were about to part for the day, him for work, and me to live the life of a sugar baby, what did sugar babies do all day anyway?

  I’m kidding. I was taking mom to her health care check-up and interviewing for a job in lower Manhattan at a law firm and viewing a couple of apartments nearer to mom. “We have an invitation to a private wine tasting, if you’re interested in going this weekend.”

  I stopped fluffing my hair. It wasn’t cooperating, and I was tired of messing with it. I left it hang around my chin, tucking one side behind my ear before I perked. “You had me at wine—wait. Is it one of those fancy schmancy places where we have to spit the wine out? Because, I’ll tell you now, Grayson, I was not raised that way.”

  He snorted, with his strong chiseled jaw aimed toward me as he knotted a tie at his neck and took two steps in my direction before cupping my cheeks, a kiss soon followed to leave my lips tingly. “I find you utterly fucking addictive, do you know that?”

  Oh.

  Wow.

  In all my dating years no one—absolutely no one had declared I was addictive.

  And my internal ovens all burned hotter, heart skipping a tiny beat.

  “I didn’t know that, thank you for telling me, feel free to say it again.” I told him as he swept down to obviously take my mouth and my mouth parted ready.

  So ready I wanted to suck on his full lower lip only twenty-three hours of the day. But I ducked my head back, he groaned frustrated. “But, to clarify, we’re not spitting the wine out, right?”

  Gray laughed, resting his forehead to my shoulder. I let my fingers rake through over scalp because I found when I did he emitted a sexy rumbling sound.

  From nape to crown I moved my hand.

  “Grayson! The wine?”

  “Yes, you unromantic, woman. You can guzzle every damn bottle of wine we see. Happy?” He lifted, showing me his half-grin.

  “Very.”

  “We should stay home.” The low-toned suggestion came by Gray pinning me to the closet wall with his hips, his head cranked down to graze lips over my forehead, my nose, my cheek.

  I looked from the tips of his hair down to his impeccable pink tie with the white shirt and his bubble-butt dark gray pants. A shot of lust attacked my belly. “You’re dressed for power, rock star. Didn’t you say you needed to be at the office today?”

  The hell was I saying? Stay home. Bounce on him all day.

  The addiction to Gray was getting out of hand when I ached to be with him 24-7. I could honestly say I’d never had a better few weeks being part of a couple. We were together so much and each minute in Gray’s company, whether ribbing each other, having long conversations, cooking, walking around the city, going on dates or just watching TV, I was filled with a sense of rightness between us.

  “And you took two days off already this week.”

  “And I’ll have two more. Now take off your clothes.” He commanded in that tone that had me wet and ready.

  He was a straight shot of crack to my brain where nothing else mattered, only the breaths he took and the desire in his eyes.

  I craved his company, his smile, his voice, his body, and his piercing attention.

  Trust his cell phone to begin chiming at the same moment.

  I didn’t appreciate any cockblocking. Especially Gray’s cock.

  We both grumbled as he fished out his phone, keeping me pinned right there with a hand around my nape. He stroked with his thumb while I fixed on a pair of earrings.

  “Work trouble?” I asked after listening to his side of the clipped conversation, feeling sorry for whoever was on the other end getting a tongue lashing for their inept performance. He sighed and sat on the long-padded bench in the middle of the closet to pull on his shoes. “The shipment from Dubai hasn’t arrived and the longer it delays the more money I’m leaking out.”

  I mock gasped. “Not the shoes! They’ll be so scared lost somewhere, Gray. You have to find the babies.”

  It wasn’t only amused lust I saw cross his features. I didn’t dig for the answer, not when he rose impossibly tall and lovely, strode over to me with his smirk intact before he kissed me. “Fucking addicted to you, India. Make sure you miss me today. What do you have going on?”

  I told him my plans.

  His forehead puckered, cloudy gray eyes looked down at me and he stopped me from exiting the closet with his arm across the doorway.

  “You want to go and view shitty apartments?”

  Why did his voice sound like grit? I looked up. “Well. Yeah, but I’m hoping they’re not shitty. I can’t stay at Hotel Ellison forever, Grayson.”

  “Why not?”

  I blinked and felt one giant thump of my heart against the inside of my ribs. “Why not?”

  “Why can’t you stay here forever? I want you to.”

  My tongue glued to the roof of my mouth. “Because this arrangement was temporary.”

  “Only you thought that, India.”

  I mean I think I knew on some logical level that he had something permanent in mind when he was so eager for me to move in. How could I not when he’d shown zero signs of wanting me to look for other accommodation. “My girlfriend decorates and throws pinks everywhere—”

  “It’s a hint of blush! Don’t exaggerate, Grayson. There’s more whites and gray.” I huffed, insulted. I loved his new decor. I’d been able to do most every room now and it finally looked homely. Even mister Sugar D approved each day he came home to see something new in the apartment. He always got that look on his face like he was so fucking pleased I was making it a home. I still had a twinge of guilt for how wild I went with his credit card.

  “And now you want to move?”

  Hold up. Back the truck up. Hit pause.

  What had he said there? Slow-blink. “I’m your girlfriend?”

  The slowest smile crept onto his rugged face. Gray eyes twinkling. “You like that?”

  My smile gave me away. Stupid smile.

  I lifted a shoulder. Pretended to fuss with my jumpsuit belt. “Ehh…”

  Deft fingers poked me in my ribs making me burst out laughing involuntarily. “Beautiful liar. No shitty apartment viewings. Walk me to the door, I need a good kiss, India, to deal with this day.”

  I sent my boyfriend? My man? My live-in-lover? I’d decide later which term I wanted to call him by—off with a hot kiss, hot enough he’d be hard all day long.

  ~*~*~

  GRAY

  I never gave much of a thought to our age difference.

  Not when my little mean-girl danced her socks off a few nights ago at a gig my boys and I did at a jazz club down town.

  Never thought of how young India was when she seemed enamored with her social media accounts I just didn’t understand the appeal, even when she made me take countless selfie ‘retakes’ with her. My marketing team handled everything social for my company, though the way my girl conducted hers I was thinking of hiring her, no joke. She was amazing at capturing the essence
of anything. The pictures she’d taken at the gig generated a lot of hits and interest for future shows.

  So, her age never once crept into my mind as a worry.

  Not until I walked through the door that night, her familiar scent and all the candles she liked to burn greeting me like a warm caress through my chest.

  Fuck, I loved having her here.

  Knowing she was going to be in our bed tonight and all the other nights if I had anything to do with it. That bullshit this morning almost gave me a stroke. Sheer panic strangled my voice box when I tried to reason with her that this was her home now, for as long as she wanted, and I wanted that to be a fucking life time.

  Off and on all day when I should have been dealing with getting my stock into the country I was thinking more on that situation. I assumed she knew how I felt. What she was to me, what I wanted us to be. My girl was still under the impression I was a good citizen doing an altruistic favor. It couldn’t be further from the selfish truth. I’d do anything, say anything, to keep India with me. She’d been happier the last couple of weeks, that meant something. There was something special between us even if it wasn’t put into words.

  Maybe I needed to give her the words.

  Fear of losing her rode me hard.

  Exhausted from dealing with the colossal import fuck up for six solid hours today, unaware for a few seconds of the surprise awaiting me. Tossing keys and wallet and cell phone as usual onto the hallway table, so I could walk through to the living room where I hoped she would be.

  We’d messaged off and on most of the day. She’d had a time of it with her mom at therapy, and I wanted to make sure the rest of the evening was relaxing for her. We’d watch a movie, go out to dinner if she wanted or just have her favorite cereal in front of the tv.

  My heart jerked excited inside my rib cage like I was a teenager again with my first crush. Could you blame me? I hadn’t seen my girl since this morning. Ten whole hours of neglect.

  Shower, food, bed.

  I’d been planning it for the last half of the day much to my cock’s discomfort crammed against my belt demanding to see the wet and the right of his girl.

  I never thought about the difference in ages until I came to a staggering halt in the middle of the doorway and saw the most beautiful sight I’d ever fucking seen.

  My first thought; she’s trying to kill her old man.

  My second; yep, India is going to kill me right here.

  My heart thumped hard.

  My India, the girl who was fast owning my heart, perched on the edge of the glass dining table, her beautiful back arched in that way my fingers itched to curl around the dip where she was softest at the base of her spine. Her legs open, spread wide and her toes balanced like a ballet dancer on two dining chairs with such invite my mouth dried.

  Did I mention my mean-girl was naked? Oh yeah.

  Fuck. I was old and weak when all my thoughts—as she intended them to be by presenting herself like a delicate buffet—were indecent.

  Her short, choppy hair in a sexy disarray around her oval face as if she’d been fucking all day and just rolled out of bed. Her lips full and pouty like she’d been biting on them and suddenly I felt a pinch of jealousy.

  I should be the one to bite her, to make her sore.

  I was the one who made her sore then kissed it better.

  I didn’t know how my feet moved but I got those fuckers moving.

  She smiled as I approached. I saw her belly fluttering. Tits rising and falling. Two perfect mounds and her nipples... Christ. Hard, perfect, blush pebbles.

  This was going to stop my old heart.

  Just let me have her first.

  Just give me her taste in my mouth then I could die a happy man.

  “You made dinner, baby-girl.” I rasped, hands bunched in my pants pocket and got my first up close look at her delicious pink slit she had on display for me.

  All fucking mine.

  Her lower bare lips, pouty and wet were mine.

  I lost my breath taking her in.

  If the epitome of perfection had a name, then it was India Rivera. I loved the freckle by her mouth. I loved the twitch of her smile that reached her sparkling eyes. So mischievous. I adored her wicked nature.

  Whether I’d said it or not she should know she held me by the heart.

  India was everything a man could want.

  Her worth was priceless, and she made my emotions explode.

  As I peeled back her layers it was like discovering new levels to India.

  Each one I became more enamored with.

  Calling her my girlfriend was weak in comparison to how I felt. A surge of happiness rushed right through me the closer I got to the table and my welcoming girl.

  Being greeted like this every day?

  Not sure I could take it, but I’d risk it for her smile.

  Imagining her not being here one day left a bitter taste in my mouth. One I couldn’t focus on, not because I have my girl naked in front of me and she’s as enticing as the sun. But there’s no part of my life now, not a crevice or corner of it that didn’t belong to India.

  She’d fit into my life so effortlessly like she’d always been there. Now getting me stuffed into her life … that’s been the challenge.

  She didn’t grasp the depth of my feelings yet.

  I leaned down and tapped her lips.

  “I thought you might be hungry after a long day.”

  “Ravenous,” wasn’t that the truth.

  She had my mouth watering to lay her out and fuck her with everything I had. I had to touch her. My fingers spanned the upper part of her torso, right under her boobs. God, she was warm. Inviting. Mine.

  She was already unbuttoning my shirt as I pulled her closer to the edge, fit myself in between her legs and took a second kiss. “My girl is so thoughtful.” Neck kiss.

  “Time to eat, sugar D.” That fucking name had hot thunderbolts charging through me. There was no real reason to love it other than it tapped into my cavemen side of myself wanting to give her everything.

  Provide and protect.

  She called me that name and I got hard real fast.

  She often said it right before she drifted off to sleep.

  When we’d slaked the days hardships out on each other’s bodies and she was soft and snuggly, and as now, my heart beat staccato to possess every inch of India and make her mine.

  I took my seat she’d set in place. She wanted my mouth eating her pussy. My fucking pleasure. Her legs smelling of cocoa butter opened wider and my dick thumped in my pants.

  My smart girl was either psychic or she knew I would want to be free of my confines when her slender fingers slid between us, a smile played on her face, her eyes boring into mine as she unbuttoned and left my pants open. “That’s better.” She grinned.

  “Do I sound like a fucking barbarian by saying this is how I want to come home to you every night?” Already my fingers danced along the puffy outer lips between her legs. “To see you like this, India. Wet and plump, waiting for my mouth to eat this pussy. Are you aching, baby-girl? How many licks will it take to make it better?”

  “A thousand,” she husked, locking her fingers in and out of my hair.

  God, her touch was dynamite.

  “Let’s start at a thousand and go from there.” I wanted her taste in my throat.

  Ached for it.

  A delicate look of curiosity stained her cheeks as I looked up while kissing her inner thighs and then she asked. “Want me?”

  “Want?” My voice strangled. “What I feel for you is long past want, India. It’s somewhere around desperation. Now, open your legs wider and let me see what you made for my dinner then I promise to give you my cock anywhere you want it.”

  My mean girl smirked pleased.

  When she nodded her head. Biting down on her naked lip, a fast cross of uncertain vulnerability in her eyes. I wondered had anyone ever reassured her she was more than enough? She was perfectly impe
rfect just the way she was, and she never needed to conceal her true feelings for fear of being let down.

  I had a sourness in my gut that she hadn’t.

  It was my job to fix her self-confidence.

  Mine.

  Just like India was all mine

  Every stubborn mean-girl inch of her.

  “You are perfect.” Kiss. “Amazing.” Lick. “I’m so lucky you exist in the world. So, fucking lucky to have a woman who turns me inside out.”

  She shuddered so I retraced that line again with my tongue, her taste flooded into my mouth and it would only be seconds before I fixed my mouth over the whole of her pussy and gulped her down.

  I was so fucking hungry to hear her screaming.

  My fingers tingled until I drew over her bare chest, coaxing her nipples into hardened stones.

  The blood in my groin pounded.

  So many options in front of me.

  Lick her into screaming. I knew how she liked it, how hard and soft to go to drag my girl into a body trembling come.

  Fuck her right here, with her slim legs tied around my waist, eat at her tongue when I pounded her.

  Flip her around, hold her down, redden her ass a little. She liked that, we discovered. Small taps of my palms and she flooded my hand with her juices.

  Christ. This woman brought out every primal hormone suppressed by society and my upbringing. I wanted to own and dominate. Love and adore.

  “I saw you,” I told her, dragging my mouth in a wet line across her shuddering belly.

  “When? Oh, god, Gray. Do that again.”

  I complied instantly. My mouth was her string. I licked a trail down her bare pussy. I watched her shave it last night and nearly had a heart attack the lust was so big. She wasn’t even done cleaning off the soap when I attacked her, just ripped down my sweat pants and fucked my girl over the sink with her moaning and telling me she hadn’t moisturized yet.

  I gave her enough moisture to last a week.

  I went right on sucking her outer lips until she soaked my tongue.