by Jane Henry
“First up, we’ve got a party tonight. I have to meet with my team beforehand.”
“A party? Your team? What kind of a team is it?”
“They’ll prepare me for tonight. You know—make this ugly old mug ready for the red carpet. It’ll be a lot of photo ops with the higher ups in the modeling agency, the owners of the jean brand I recently modeled for. A meet and greet with me in a tux, wearing you on my arm.”
Her eyes widen. “Gabriel, I had no idea that you… were such a celebrity. This sounds like a Hollywood A-list type event. You’re so... famous.”
I shrug. “Fame is overrated. Sometimes I hate it, and wish I could go back to a simpler life, but this is what I do for now.”
She nods. “I understand.” I love that she does.
Her eyes grow heated. “So I’m guessing… having little teeth marks or claw marks along your neck and… other places… might not be the best thing for tonight?”
She runs her fingers along my neckline, and I groan.
“Naughty little girl, trying to find herself over daddy’s knee?”
“What? For flirting?” But her eyes are half-lidded, her breathing hitched. She loves when I threaten to spank her.
“Trying to get me to lose my focus,” I say, reaching for her elbow and jerking her over my lap.
“Gabriel!” she protests, her hand flying back but she’s giggling when I slam my palm against her ass.
“What did I tell you about calling me that?” I spank her again, my cock jerking when she squirms over my knee.
“Oooh,” she says, wiggling over my lap. “I’m to call you daddy or sir. Yes, sir. I’ll do whatever you tell me, sir.”
I spank her again with a chuckle. “Sure you will.”
I give her three more hard, rapid spanks for good measure. I want to do more. So much more. I push her off my lap and tug her over for a kiss. I capture her face between my hands and brush my lips across hers. She sighs, as we pull up to Vegas, Baby.
“You turn me on when you do that,” she says with a groan.
I lean in and whisper against her ear as we cruise to a stop. “Tonight, I’ll text you commands. Orders I want you to follow. Instructions. And if you don’t obey me, Miranda…”
She gives me that look I’ve come to love, capturing her lips between her teeth to mask her arousal. “Yes, daddy?”
“Daddy will have to punish you.”
“How?” she breathes.
I shake my head and cluck my tongue. “You act as if punishment excites you, Miranda. Daddies discipline their little girls to teach them to behave themselves, but I think you’re already earning punishment by wanting it.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, no, daddy,” she says, her blonde hair falling all over the place, her blue eyes wide and gorgeous. “I’ll be the very best girl you want.”
I kiss her cheek. “Good girl. But I’ll punish you later for that lie.”
The door opens, and I lead her out of the car.
Cameras flash as before, but I shield her against me and pull my jacket up to protect her. “Get them out of here,” I tell Mack, and in minutes, we’re escorted to the hotel in privacy.
“God,” she says. “How can you stand it?”
I shrug. “I hate it, but it’s part of being a public figure.”
“Does that mean I’ll be the same if I’m with you?”
“I’ll do everything I can to protect your privacy.”
But Miranda’s no wilting violet. She’s bold and brave, determined and fearless. She juts her chin out. “No, it’s fine,” she says. “The worst they can do is expose my business dealings, but I’ve got things tidied up there nicely.”
Good girl. My chest swells with pride. She’s fucking perfect.
“We’ll eat a late lunch together. Then I’ll have the car take you to the Sugar Daddies office so you can work a bit. I’ll have my assistant send you an email telling you what time to be back to your apartment to get ready for tonight. Sound good?”
She nods. “I haven’t eaten three square meals in years, and now I’ve eaten more in this short time we’ve been together…”
I rest my hand on her lower back as I usher her inside the elevator, and we head up to my suite. “Good. You need to keep up your energy, baby.” I give her a wink.
She grins. “You like taking care of people?”
I nod. “I can’t help it.” The elevator doors swing closed. “It’s just in my nature.”
“I can see that. It’s in mine, too. It’s why I need to make sure Lexi and my mom are okay. That they have what they need.”
I kiss her cheek. “I get it, baby. And that’s one of the things I love best about you.”
The elevator opens to the suite. We enter, and I hand her the room service menu. We order food, and eat it quietly. We chat about our families and the differences in our pasts. She wants to travel to France to see my family’s vineyards, and I want to spend more time with her mom and sister in California. I know all about her family, of course, but she doesn’t need to know that. And I like hearing her tell me the details herself.
Time is running out. I need to get back to work and she’s got things she needs to take care of. I prep her for this evening. “So, tonight. We’ll have to be ‘on,’ babe. It’s exhausting.”
She nods. “I get it. I mean, I work in Vegas, and I know what it means to have to perform. I’ll smile and wine and dine, evade personal questions and make sure that the focus is on you.”
“And don’t forget, you’ll do what daddy tells you to, too.”
She’s getting used to this, I think, because she smiles and nods with less of the hesitation there was before. “I can do this. Absolutely.”
“Good,” I tell her with a smile. “So, no panties tonight, babygirl. If I tell you to touch yourself, you’ll do it. If I bring you into a private room, you’ll come with me. No hesitation, no matter what. Understood?” I won’t even tell her what else I have in store for her this evening.
My heart races as she nods and faces me, squares her shoulders, and looks like she’s ready for my first command. I lean in and kiss her cheek, as I drag up the hem of her skirt and reach between her legs. I part them, letting the back of my hand graze her warm pussy. She flexes her hips, but I shake my head. “Stand absolutely still, babe.”
She obeys, while holding her breath. I gently finger her, gliding my fingers inside her.
“Are you sore, baby?”
She nods. “Yes, daddy, but I like it. I like the memory of you in me.”
“Do you?”
She nods. “And I want you again.”
I finger her until she’s panting, clenching around me. I draw my fingers out and lick them while she watches, her mouth parted.
“By the time we come back here tonight, I want you aching to come.”
“My God,” she groans. “I already am.”
I grin as the knock on the door signifies my team has arrived.
Chapter Twelve
Miranda
The instant I step into our office, I switch from babygirl to boss babe. Our huge, teal Sugar Daddies sign welcomes me, the words sparkling with greeting. Even though I’ve only been gone since Thursday night, never having returned after my fall at the gym on Friday, I feel like it's been ages.
I love it here. It’s my happy place.
The business is doing well. We’re taking on new clients and making more money than ever, especially since I’ve hired Sam. Her cunning mind can see a potential profit from a mile away.
Sam sits at our front desk. It’s white lacquer and massive, taking up almost the entire front of the office. The Sugar Daddy sign hangs over her head.
“Hey, girl.” She hands me a spreadsheet, our financial rundown for the month. Her smile hints of good news. “Check this out.”
I gaze over the month’s expenses versus income. Then I see the bottom line. We’re making more than we ever have before. I feel a little ping of pride. “This is our best month
yet. The girls will be thrilled.”
“They’re already bragging to all their friends about how you’re the best boss ever and promised them a bonus when they hit their goal.”
“They’ve hit it, this month.” I take a second look just to be sure the numbers are real. “Exceeded it, actually.” I should take a bigger salary for myself, but I’m conservative with my own income and like to keep at least a month of my girls’ average salaries in savings, just in case.
Sam reads my mind. “You really should be paying yourself more, Miranda. You work hard, and we can afford it.”
I dismiss her suggestion with a shrug. She gives me a look that tells me she knows to drop it, but still disagrees. But she’s right—I should pay myself more.
I think of Gabriel’s financial help and a surge of gratitude flows through me. I want to spread the generosity, pay it forward. “Tell you what—add a gift card for a massage and a facial at the Vegas, Baby Spa to everyone’s envelope. They deserve it.”
“Awesome. They’ll be thrilled.” Sam tucks the sheet away in her perfect files that no one is allowed to touch. She’s the epitome of the type-A organized assistant. I’d be lost without her.
She waggles her brows. “Hey, how was that date you took on? The model, Mr. Lord? Sorry to make you break your rule of never taking a client, but I could just hear in his assistant’s voice that he was willing to pay big, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“No, you did great negotiating that deal.” I hold my cards close to my chest. Gushing over Gabriel in a deep girl-talk sesh just isn’t my style. I need to keep it professional, right? But she’s looking at me with curious eyes and I suddenly want to tell her everything. “It was… interesting.” But I can’t stop the heat that rises in my chest, or the little thrill of excitement I get just thinking about seeing him again.
Her phone rings. “Hello, Sugar Daddies Escort Service… uh-huh… the Mr. Cullen of Show Biz Vegas? Of course I can help you with that! Let me just pull up my calendar.” She pulls up a tab on her screen, dollar signs in her eyes and dives into work, forgetting all about me and my date.
I arrive at my private office and take a moment just to breathe it in. I’ve come so far from where I began, organizing dates for friends that had a free spirit and needed a little extra cash. All organized while sitting cross-legged on the floor of my dorm room, my computer in my lap.
At first, everything was online only. Matching girls with clients after thoroughly vetting the men, then taking a small cut of the profits as payment for my time. As word got out, I began booking wealthier clientele. I could afford to be more picky with my girls. I began to charge double what I did when I first started.
Next came the whole “daddy” thing.
I noticed more and more of my clients were looking for women they could spoil and adore. And these girls, they needed some boundaries, some structure in their lives and the businessmen we booked were more than happy to offer a firm helping hand.
I was able to afford a tiny, rented office over a bakery. Then, I moved on to the ground floor of an office complex. The trend continued to grow, our services becoming more defined. Soon, all the men we were booking were straight up daddy doms. And girls started coming in from all over.
I guess most women have a babygirl hiding in their heart.
We changed our name. Bought this beautiful standalone building on the strip, and Sugar Daddies was born.
My office is all white, a smaller, exact replica of the Sugar Daddies sign hangs on the wall behind my desk. I slip into my dove gray ergonomic office chair and flip open the top of my rose gold MacBook.
There’s an email marked URGENT. It’s from a Shane Barr.
Miranda,
Let me introduce myself. I’m Shane, the personal assistant for Mr. Lord. I’m the one who arranged for your date with my boss. I hope you ladies are enjoying the new air conditioner.
I sit back and pause my reading to take a moment to enjoy the cool air. It’s at least ten degrees cooler than the last time I was in here and it feels fantastic. I call out to Sam, “Great work finagling that new HVAC unit, Sam!”
She shouts back. “Thanks, babe! The under boob sweat was really getting out of control around here.”
I laugh, turning my attention back to my screen.
Mr. Lord wanted me to reach out to you to be sure you were in your apartment at six o’clock sharp. He’s got a surprise for you ahead of tonight. A full, Hollywood glam squad who’ve flown in from L.A for tonight's eight o’ clock event.
They’re the crew that get the A-listers ready for red carpet events and they’re fucking fantastic at their job. We’ve managed to have them squeeze you in. You won’t have to lift a finger. They’ll have your hair, makeup, and clothing covered.
He also said to be on the lookout for an important text with further instructions for tonight.
A little thrill runs through me as I read that last line once more. I have to sit back in my seat and fan my flushed face. I have no idea what he has in store for me tonight but I’m sure it’s something that will push my boundaries, tipping my pleasure quota off the escort scale.
Can’t wait to meet you in person tonight. I’ve heard a lot about you. Gabe is obviously obsessed with you.
Best,
Shane Barr
Obsessed with me? I smile to myself. Surely not. I mean, I know he likes me. He did everything in his power to spend more time with me, but obsessed is a strong word.
Though, the more time I spend with him, the more I find myself thinking about him. Wanting him. Maybe I’m the one with the obsession.
I can’t focus on work. I’m too excited about tonight. A whole glam squad from Hollywood, all preparing me for this magical night? It’s a babygirl’s dream come true.
My phone rings. Lexi. I pick up on the first ring. “How are you? How’s Mom?”
“Oh my God, Miranda. That man of yours is an absolute saint. This place is amazing.”
“You’re there now? With Mom?”
“Yes. We drove over a few hours ago and they gave us a tour. We’re just getting settled into her room. It’s so... nice. Everyone is friendly and Mom’s already made friends with one of the male nurses. Says he looks like Armand Olivier.”
“Who’s that?”
She blows out a breath. “The hero from Mafia Mania!” Oh, right. That one.
We catch up a bit, then she has to go. Mom wants to play a game of Spades with two women she met down the hall and needs Lexi as her fourth. I breathe the deepest sigh of relief.
Mom’s safe. She’s happy. And Lexi can rest easy.
All thanks to Gabriel. I try to work, but find my mind drifting to him.
I shuffle a few papers. I wonder what style of dress I’ll wear? Reply to a few emails. How will they do my hair? Forward some bills to Sam. And what will that text message say?
Nerves dance in my belly, wicked and delicious. How I’m going to make it through the night with no panties on is beyond me—the ones I’m wearing now are seriously damp.
What could he do to me that he hasn’t already done? I think of things he’s said to me. Things he wanted to do to me.
I want to do them all.
Sam’s face pops into the doorway of my office. I startle, looking up, hoping the thoughts of guilty pleasures aren’t written all over my face. She gives me a look of concern. “Your cheeks are flush. Are you hot? Want me to crank the air up?”
“That’d be great.” I pull my damp blouse from my chest, airing out. “It’s… getting a little hot in here.”
“Okay, I’ll do it on my way out. I’m leaving now. Need anything before I go?” She pulls her purse strap over her shoulder.
I wave her on. “Nope. Thanks for coming in and I’m sorry I wasn’t here the past few days.”
“Miranda. Seriously? You had a family emergency. Don’t apologize.” She gives me a stern look. Sometimes I swear she’s got her own daddy dom tendencies.
I hold bac
k a laugh. “Well, thanks anyway. I know it’s your day off.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I wasn’t working.”
“Same.” At least, that’s how I felt until I met Gabriel. Now I can think of a hundred other things I’d rather be doing…
“I’ve got to scram or I’ll be late to my pole dance workout class. Oh, and be sure to fill me in on your date next time I see you.”
“Have fun and try not to break something.”
“Ha! Or sprain my vagina. You should see the stuff they have us doing. Bye, hon!” She blows me a kiss, heading out.
I wrap up a few things, then check the time. It’s five. I’ve got enough time to get back to my apartment and take a quick shower before the glam squad arrives. Game on.
Back at home, I pour myself a glass of wine. I take a quick shower. Stand in front of my closet, naked, trying to decide what to wear. Forget it. They’re bringing everything I need. I wrap a fluffy white towel around my body and sit down on the sofa to enjoy the rest of my cabernet.
Three bangs sound out from the door. I go to open it. An entourage of chatting, laughing, vibrantly dressed people push their way past me.
“Sit down, sit down, girl. Drink that wine. You don’t have to lift a finger.” A man who’s well over six feet tall with rippling muscles and chestnut skin reaches out to shake my hand. “Dimitri. Pleasure to meet you, Miranda. What are we working with here, gang?”
“Hi. Thank you for coming.”
He lifts a strand of my hair. “Okay, looks like we’ve got a natural blonde. I’d put her at a level nine, with professional highlights that have lifted her to an eleven. Girl, who does your lowlights? They look fantastic.”
“Oh, I go to Diva Darlings over on—”
He cuts me off, clapping his hands. “Chop, chop, people! Time is money.”
I hear the clicking open of cases, the unzipping of garment bags. Dimitri focuses on my face. With furrowed brows, he investigates every inch. “We’ve got dark circles and I think I spot... is that what I think it is? Oh no, girl. Not on my watch. Barbie, get over here and take care of this. Yesterday.”