Craving Sugar

by Elena M. Reyes

  Drooping eyes met my own, and she smiled. “Nap.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Settling her in a more comfortable position, I draped the towel low on her back so the nice breeze coming from the ocean could keep her cool. My fingers played with her hair, pushed the strands back from her face, and within minutes she knocked out.

  “Birthday girl tired herself out?” Mom came up from the water and settled herself on the corner of my blanket to dry off. “Poor thing has been running around since five a.m. because it’s her beach day.”

  “Yeah, just knocked out.” From the corner of my eye, I watched Dad get up and tend to the meat on the grill. “Can you pass me a Pepsi, Dad?”

  “Sure.” he reached into the cooler holding our drinks and grabbed a beer for himself and a soda for me. He walked over and handed it to me, opening it before parking it next to Mom. “You going to tell me where you’ll be working now? Or do I need to have you followed.”

  Was a joke. Something he’d said before, but this time I froze, eyes wide and scared.

  God help me, if they were to ever find out what I’d done.

  No. They can’t. Would never find out if I could help it.

  Both looked at me with worried eyes, not understanding my reaction. Before they could say anything, I sucked in a deep breath.

  “Something bit my foot near the ankle,” I hissed out low while rubbing my foot on the blanket. “Had to be an ant. Jesus, that hurt.”

  Dad sprung up and examined my foot and the area around where I was sitting. Thank you Jesus I’d been bitten earlier today in the changing rooms and had a small red bump on my ankle.

  “Pesky fuckers,” he muttered, swatting away two he found walking near the middle. “Looks like tiny fire ants. It’ll itch, but go away in a day or two.”

  The man upstairs had come through, and tonight I’d add an extra thank you to my prayers.

  “Want me to take her?”

  “Nope.”

  Mom smiled, and I knew it was coming. “And about that job...”

  They are acting like dogs with a bone.

  “I’ll be working at H. P. Builders as an assistant to a P. A. who is pregnant. I’m the glorified gopher, and will have to travel most weekends to the office in the Keys to make up what I missed due to school.” Mom wasn’t happy with that part; her frown was deep, but she’d adjust. We all didn’t have a choice. Were this a real job, she’d get no say either. “Pay is great and benefits kick in after sixty days. Recommendations from them on my resume will look amazing. Win win in my opinion.”

  “But weekends? Where will you stay?”

  “Mom, I love you, but stop.”

  “Honey, help me out here.” She raised a brow at Dad who rolled his eyes. “You see nothing wrong here? Our family dinner on Sunday is sacred and—”

  “She’s an adult with a good head on her shoulders who works and goes to school full time. Be proud, don’t meddle.” Before she could interrupt, Dad held up a hand. “And I’m even going to stop you from comparing her to Gloria, who makes time. I love our oldest, but she’s made bad choices. Plenty of them, except for having Aubrey. She has time now because she’s single, but look around. Where is she?”

  Mom let out a heavy sigh, and her shoulders dropped. “With Ivan.”

  “Exactly. Not here.” Dad ruffled my hair with a triumphant smile on his face. “Twenty-three and has yet to give us a headache. Let her go, explore, and grow. That company is huge and reputable. Will give her great work experience, and Beau will be safe. The owner...”

  Owner is also a controlling jerk who I’m going to kill tonight. And safe?

  “You’re right, Dan.”

  “Always am, Barbara.”

  No one said anything after that or discussed the giant elephant in the room named Ivan. It took him and Gloria, who looked quite disheveled on her return, a good thirty minutes to join us once more. Her daughter was still sound asleep and none the wiser.

  They sat side by side on another blanket a few inches from mine with their fingers intertwined. Funny; not once did Mom question what was going on between them, yet I got the third degree.

  And fuck, I knew that in hindsight what I was doing might be considered worse—depending which side of the coin you were on—but I should’ve had her trust the same way Gloria did.

  For minutes I sat back with her daughter in my lap stewing in my anger. Her selfishness had repeatedly cost me important things.

  I paid for my first car and its insurance because she couldn’t afford her rent. Mind you, my sister’s first vehicle came off a lot and was shiny red. Only the best for her.

  My entire eighth grade summer was spent babysitting three kids, so I could buy new clothes at the start of the school year because once again, she needed something. That time it was the latest model of laptop and phone with the promise of going to college.

  Gloria never went, but they gave in.

  And now, here we were, celebrating her daughter’s birthday while she was sneaking off here and there with Ivan.

  Enough was enough.

  “What time are we cutting the cake?” Everyone but Dad watched me with surprised expressions—I was never in a hurry. He, on the other hand, gave me a subtle nod of approval which warmed my heart. This man understood me up to a certain capacity; his love was just too deep for all his girls to ever say no. “I have somewhere to be.”

  “You do?” Gloria’s brow furrowed, her hand squeezing Ivan’s. “Ummm, I was going to have you take her for the night.”

  “News to me, since you never asked.” Shaking my head, I let out a small laugh. Lately, everyone seemed to think that I was born to be at their disposal. Ruby, Gloria...even Mom at times. “Sorry, sis, but I’m not cancelling on a date, so you can go on one. Not happening.”

  “Beau!” Mom yelled out, stirring the sleeping girl in my arm awake. “No need to—”

  “Speak the truth?” Dad interrupted once more on my behalf, arms crossed over his chest. “If she wants to go out, we’ll watch baby girl, but don’t pawn her off on Beau just because you figure it’s okay. Ask, don’t assume, Gloria.”

  Aubrey yawned—stretched her body out and blinked up at me, completely oblivious to the tension around her. “Cake?”

  “Of course, kid. It’s time for cake.” Argument forgotten for now, we all stood and Mom pulled the pretty fairy cake from one of the bigger coolers. Forget the fact that we had not eaten. If the birthday girl wanted her cake now, she’d get it.

  So we sang to her, off key and in funny voices, which made her laugh and clap. Her joy warmed my heart and thawed out certain annoyances I had with her mother. Aubrey was the sole thing that my sister had done right.

  Looking around our small circle, I caught Mom looking at me. She smiled, and I mouthed the words “love you.”

  And I did. All of them.

  Then why are things bothering you now that in the past you’d brush off?

  Because my love no longer blinds me to their faults. Can thank Ruby for that.

  At seven p.m. that same night, there was a knock on my door as I slipped on a pair of chandelier earrings Mom gave me two years ago for my birthday. They were pretty, delicate, and sparkly. Complimented the simple little black dress I decided to wear.

  “Coming,” I called out a few seconds before pulling the door open to a very handsome Hendrix, holding a single rose out for me. Won’t deny that he looked uncomfortable, but he was trying and I’d give him credit for that. “Thank you.”

  Standing on the tip of my heels, I stole a kiss and walked back inside without inviting him in. Not that he needed one, as the man who’d yet to say a word followed me in.

  Paused at the entrance to my tiny kitchen and watched me put his gift in a small vase with water. He stood there in his tailored black dress pants and a light grey shirt. No tie. Sleeves rolled up and a silver Cartier watch on his wrist.

  Hendrix knew he was a gorgeous specimen and had no shame. Even the fact he hadn’t shaved in a cou
ple of days didn’t dull his factor—it made him hotter.

  “We should go.” God, that voice. All rough and full of the same ardor from last weekend. “Our invitation is for eight.”

  “Let me just grab my clutch.” It was never my intention to rub my body on his, but the man left me little to no room to pass. He’d blocked the entrance, hands squeezed into tight fists as I tried to figure a less painful way around this.

  Sure, I could tell him to move, but he wouldn’t. Not even when it was beneficial for him.

  So instead of arguing, I squeezed past him and the entrance trim. His scent, that woodsy with a hint of citrus smell, caused my body to shiver. The movement forcing me back and into a hard cock I knew all too well.

  Abort. Abort.

  I tried to behave and walk away, but his hand on my arm held me in place. His nose skimmed the side of my neck and lower—caused my panties to dampen and thighs to press together.

  Try to find a bit of friction to quell my own need for him.

  “I want to eat that pretty little pussy and then bathe in your come. Make you squirt all over me before I take this sweet...” strong hands wandered low and grabbed a handful of my flesh “...round ass and mark it as mine.”

  “Please.”

  “No.”

  “Why?” It left me on a pained whimper, my body trying to arch back into him, but Hendrix held me still. Hands on my hips, he backed me into the kitchen cabinet closest to us and pinned me there. “Let me go.”

  “No.” This time he pressed into me, let me feel every single ridge of his length. “I won’t take you again until you are moved and back in my bed. You want my cock?” At my eager nod, he chuckled. “Then take this as an incentive, nymph. Tomorrow, and not a second more.”

  SIXTEEN

  Hendrix

  I found her pout the entire way to our destination amusing.

  In the past, that kind of behavior would have turned me off. Made me dump whatever woman I’d picked up for the night at the earliest possibility. But with her, with Beau, I couldn’t do that. Would not.

  And it had nothing to do with the contract that now connected us.

  Pulling into the valet parking of the marina, I exited without a word and walked swiftly to her door.

  A valet, no more than twenty, gaped at my car.

  Won’t deny that I was out to impress and lower her walls. After all, I did coerce her into this contract with less than honorable intentions.

  Her pussy had made the negotiations for her. Fuck, I’d pay good money and will, just to have that tight little body under my control.

  However, my nymph once again didn’t fit into the mold I’d lumped her in. Beau took one look at my car and shrugged, didn’t give a flying one about being picked up in an all-black Bugatti Veyron for dinner.

  While our valet salivated, she pouted at being denied.

  “Scratch the car, and I’ll see to it you lose your balls,” I snapped at the bumbling fool fidgeting from foot to foot. He snapped to attention and nodded, almost missing the set of keys I’d tossed him before opening the door for Beau.

  Fuck, the nymph was out for blood.

  In slow motion, and with enough sex appeal to convert a monk into a sinner, she lowered one high-heeled foot onto the pavement below followed by the other. This time, the idiot did drop my keys, and I snapped my eyes toward him and glared.

  “I’m sorry,” he squeaked and fumbled once more. Then dropped them again, only to pause on his knees once Beau was out of the car and standing next to me. Tongue-tied, he watched her stop next to me, take one look at him, and then walk toward the keys on the floor.

  “Really, Hendrix? Help the poor kid out,” she called from over her shoulder, a touch of annoyance there, and I bet money it had nothing to do with this little predicament. It had everything to do with the swollen pink kitty between her thighs.

  Beau bent at the waist, and I almost swallowed my tongue. Right at the back, at the center of her skirt, there was a split that was high enough to give me a subtle peek at her panties beneath.

  Lace. Purple. Cheekies.

  “Stand up,” left me on a pained grunt, the sound near animalistic and she bolted upright. Even standing straight and with her back to me, she was a temptress in this black little number. It molded over every delicate curve of her frame. “Walk back over to me.”

  Without a word of complaint, she did as I asked, her long, light brown hair moving across her shoulders with each step while her hips swayed to a rhythm only she heard.

  Our valet groaned behind us while Beau bit her lip in amusement.

  She was asking for it. Played with fire.

  My hand snaked around her waist and pulled her in close. Closer. Left no space between her chest and mine. “Watch it, nymph.”

  “Nope.”

  “We’re going to be late.” Eying her mouth, I leaned in, hovering over her cherry red lips. Her exhale on my own held a light sweetness to it.

  “Nope.”

  “That’s it.” One hand at her nape and the other around her waist, I kissed her. Bit down on their plumpness while biting back a groan. That taste uniquely hers exploded across every taste bud—fucked with my mind and I devoured her.

  Took possession of the kiss like a madman, high on her. She yielded to my abuse, whimpered at every caress of my tongue over hers. Trusted me enough to let me lead, until a throat cleared.

  Beau tensed, but didn’t move to step out of my embrace. Kept her eyes on mine while I pulled back to look toward our intruder.

  It was a crew member, and he looked nervous. “We are ready to depart when you are, sir.”

  “Lead the way.” My eyes wandered over to the open-mouthed valet and narrowed. “Not a scratch.”

  Without waiting for his reply, I followed the crew member with nymph’s hand in mine. The closer to our private sail boat dinner we got, the more excited she became.

  Released a tiny squeal that made me smile.

  It felt so normal to be out with her like this. Like any other normal couple.

  “Hendrix?” She squeezed my bicep to get my attention, and I looked down. “How am I getting on that thing in these?”

  Raising one leg, she extended it out in demonstration, but all I saw was the tanned, toned flesh. That, and a tiny bit of the slit at the back.

  No one will see what belongs to me. Price paid, I own it.

  “Stay still. Don’t squirm,” I grunted, frustrated at my reactions to her, and swept her up in my arms. Walked her right over the small plank used for an entrance and down one step into the dining area set for two.

  “You can let me go now.” Breathless, she seemed flushed. Eyes bright and excited. “I’m a bit heavy for you.”

  “Come again.” At my glare she pursed her lips, which I nipped. “Act like the sweet girl I know you are. I don’t want to spank you on our first date.”

  Green eyes wide, she pressed a finger to the spot I bit. “Promise?”

  “Always.” With her in my arms, I walked us to the bench a few steps from the dining table and set her down. Left her watching me with curious eyes while I grabbed the bottle of champagne set out to chill and popped the cork.

  Her giggle was delightful, a sound I wanted to hear again.

  “Aren’t we supposed to have dinner first?” Brow arched, she looked at the small plate of cheese and fruit I carried along with two flutes and the open bottle. “Or are you looking to get me tipsy?”

  “I make the rules.” Nothing else needed to be explained. Beau took the glass I offered and sipped. Licked her pouty bottom lip to catch the drop that escaped. Won’t deny that I watched her movements like a hawk. “Make room for me.”

  Nymph tried to move a bit further down, but that wasn’t what I had in mind. Instead, I set the flute and platter down, so I could pick her up and then place her back on my lap. Her back to my chest. My arms wrapped around her midsection as a small horn announced our departure from the marina.

  We were setting s
ail toward a nighttime guide of the city’s skyline, a romantic view of Islamorada at night, and end back here right before twelve a.m. for a private firework display.

  I might be a dick, but she’d be taken care of by me.

  The city’s large buildings came into focus then, all lit up in an array of light. She snuggled in closer while taking another sip from her glass, and I followed her lead.

  Together we drank half the bottle before reaching the start of the seven-mile bridge.

  “So, tell me about yourself, Miss Carter. Likes and dislikes.” It was almost painful to hold in my laugh at how her eyes narrowed. “What makes you tick?”

  “That’s a question that might require a lengthy reply.” Turning sideways in my lap, she curled her arm around the back of my neck. Fingers playing with the short hairs there. “You ready to sit here and be bored by that mumbo jumbo?”

  This time I laughed. “Find that hard to believe, nymph.”

  “Tit for tat?” she whispered before kissing my cheek. “If I bleed, so do you. Embarrassing anecdotes get you extra points.”

  “Deal.” Bullshit.

  A waiter came out then, in his hands a large tray which he set on a little station near the table. Salad, a lobster bisque, and our entrees of Pan-seared scallops atop a bed of lemon caper pasta.

  Candles were lit and our glasses refilled.

  Then they were gone. Instructed to not bother us unless I called for them.

  “Who goes first?” Beau’s slim fingers pulled my face toward hers. “Ladies, or not so gentlemen?”

  “Favorite food?” I made it easy. This first round would be gentle. Lifting her a bit, I eased us down toward the one side of the table that used the bench-style couches as seating. Sat her beside me with one thigh draped over mine.

  That little black dress had ridden up high enough to gift me a view of the inner thighs I wished to lick.

  She eyed the pasta dish with a smile. “I’m a proud seafood lover. Scallops or salmon being my favorites. Doesn’t matter how you cook them, I’m in.”