Sugar Read online

  He already took better care of me than anyone else in the world. “But what if I found a job somewhere else?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to teach in the city.

  “I have connections to some nearby private schools you might want to consider. I could help you find a respectable position nearby.”

  I silently deliberated. After a certain point, it all became about debt. “Would I continue to live here?”

  “There or somewhere else if you prefer. Your finances would improve—notably.” He paused for a moment then said, “This would be different, Avery. Our arrangement would be better defined as a closer relationship. You would teach as you planned, and never have to worry about finding a date for social functions. We would keep each other company—dependably there for one and other. No fuss, no drama, two satisfied parties.”

  My first thought was of Noah, but I shoved it away, keeping my head on business. “Would we see each other more frequently?” I’d have a real job and my time would be divided. More so than now, even if I dropped all my other clients.

  “I would want us to see each other at least three nights a week, but I’d also like you to accompany me when I travel—depending on your teaching schedule, of course. This would be a more … permanent arrangement, Avery. To others, we would seem a typical couple. However, I’d insist on seeing you were taken care of in all matters.”

  “Where would we go?”

  “Anywhere I’m needed. Next month I’ll be in Berlin. A few weeks after that, I’m visiting Mumbai. My schedule’s always changing.”

  I didn’t even know where Mumbai was. “And if I went with you… We would…?”

  “I’d expect you to stay with me in my suite.”

  A jumble of nerves let loose in my stomach like a school of minnows. What was he saying, that we would actually have an intimate relationship as well as a sugar one? “You want a … relationship?”

  “I want simplicity, Avery. I enjoy your company. I think you’re beautiful. You’re always graceful when we attend functions together. And I like taking care of you. But you're growing up, and I’m not going to keep you from the future you worked so hard to achieve. What I’m suggesting is a clearly defined association where I take care of you, and you take care of me. It would be very different from what we have now, but it would also be similar.”

  “So … not through the system?”

  “No, this would be a private agreement. I would take care of you financially. Anything you wanted you’d only need to ask. If you preferred to live in a house, we could meet with a realtor. If you needed a car for your commute, I would supply one. You could compile a list of assets you might require, and I’ll take each one into consideration.”

  “And what would you get in return?”

  “You’re a smart woman, Avery. You know how this would work. I wouldn’t want anyone else interfering with a woman others come to identify as mine. Reputation is important to me.”

  I’d be a kept woman. Letting anyone keep me to that degree might feel like I was owned. At what point would Avery the sugar baby end and Avery the person begin?

  “This is a lot to think about.” I couldn’t wrap my brain around his offer. Being a sugar baby had always been a temporary solution, a means to an end. Micah was proposing much more.

  “Think of it this way, love, you would continue on the same path, hold a respectable job, but you would be taken. It would be a relationship, but unlike a traditional courtship, ours would have specific guidelines and expectations to assure we both remained equally satisfied.”

  “Like a business agreement.”

  “A contract.” He paused then softly explained, “In today’s world, such agreements are not unheard of, Avery. If you’re uncomfortable with those terms, it won’t happen. But the offer is there. Think about it.”

  I believed him. With the rate of divorce and the amount of money some people accumulated these days, having an agreement seemed smart, but I had nothing. I wasn’t sure I wanted more if it was contingent on someone else. I looked forward to an honest paycheck with taxes removed and a 401K. Those things were normal. Contracted relationships were not. Or maybe they were, but no one talked about them.

  This was a lot to digest. “When do I need to make up my mind?”

  “When’s graduation?”

  “May twelfth.” If I said no, that would be the day our current association would end.

  “I’d hope to have your answer before then.”

  “I’ll have to think about this.”

  “You will. And you’ll let me know once you’ve made up your mind.”

  “Yes.”

  “Until then,” he said, voice casual. “We’ll continue as usual. The roads should be clear by tomorrow. How about dinner tomorrow?”

  Our current situation suddenly seemed much more manageable. Familiar. “I’ll be ready.”

  “Have a good day off, love. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  “See you then.” My hand slid into my lap with my phone.

  It took a few minutes to mentally step back and understand the proposition I’d just received. I wanted to keep Micah in my life, and he didn’t seem ready to let me go. But… While I wanted to stay friends, he wanted to take our relationship to the next level. I’d been hoping to dial back the formalities, and he just added a shit load of complexities to the arrangement.

  I pictured his flawless, dark skin and tall, lean build. He was a sharp man with a sleek manner. He was always calm and collected, but he was so different from, say, Noah.

  Noah was fun and juvenile, overbearing, and sexy. Micah was sexy, too, in a quiet, unapproachable way. He said the others would go away. I assumed that meant all men, including Noah.

  Why are you even factoring him into the equation? He knows you’re moving after graduation. This is business.

  But it wasn’t. What Micah was proposing might be a financial arrangement, but it was way beyond business. This was smack dab in the G-spot of personal. We would have sex.

  Micah and I would have sex. Would it be his way? I mean, he would be the one paying for my life. And what was his way anyway? For all I knew he could be into some crazy fetishes or horribly vanilla. Sex suddenly seemed insanely intimate.

  I wasn’t stupid. I knew some women had arrangements like this, but I was a newborn as far as sugar babies went. I didn’t kiss my Daddies, and I never slept with any of them. For me, it was all about keeping company, getting paid, and making them feel like big strong men.

  But there were sugar daddies out there who kept the same babies for years. Men who didn’t want marriage or complications or children. I wasn’t sure I wanted those things either—at least not yet.

  And then there were those who didn’t bother with contracts. Of course, they were called paramours. All my lines were blurring, and I needed to step away from the situation to gain perspective. I wasn’t a paramour. I was going to be a teacher. But would I be alone? I didn’t want to be alone.

  This was a lot to think about. I wouldn’t have to do it forever. But it might be worth pursuing for a time. Who knew if I would get hired right out of college? I needed to make an income if I wanted to support myself. And maybe it would be exciting traveling around the world with a wealthy, sexy man like Micah.

  I wouldn’t have to juggle a schedule full of dates. I wouldn’t have to spend time with so many men. To outsiders, it just might look like a respectable relationship. And it would be. Teacher and businessman, the picture of respectability. He said he’d respect my schedule and teachers managed to get holidays and summers off. It was complicated but also simple.

  Micah had never treated me with anything but the utmost respect. He made me feel good about myself, confident. He showed me the joy of empowerment by teaching me how to take advantage of my assets and become an independent, self-reliant woman. This would be—

  There was a knock at the door, and I knew who it was without checking. It was my complication. My distraction. My weakness. No longer merely
my friend. And suddenly the simple offer of Micah taking care of me turned into an insane idea I’d be crazy to accept. Right? Or was it crazy to turn down such an offer for a hot neighbor I hardly knew and who might only hold interest in me for a few weeks?

  I was so confused.

  I went to the door, leaving my private debate behind to simmer. Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob and—yup—he was still gorgeous. Damp, tousled blond hair flipped over his brow as his smile highlighted his cleanly shaven jaw. My ovaries took an immediate hit.

  With his arm braced against the door frame, he looked down at me and smiled. “You ran.” His voice still held the gruff rasp of morning, the scrape of his un-caffeinated vocal cords having a direct link to my nipples.

  “Actually, I tiptoed.” I left the door open as an invitation for him to follow me inside.

  “No school?”

  “Everything’s closed.”

  He hovered by my hall table, not quite entering the den as I took a seat on the couch.

  He cleared his throat, the sound almost unsure and totally incongruent with the greedy lover I met six hours ago. “So, last night…” He really was a Jekyll and Hyde.

  “Yeah.” We endured several awkward seconds of silence. I picked at a hangnail and Noah watched me carefully.

  “You’re not mad?”

  I didn’t know what I was. “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not being bitchy. Is this like the calm before the storm?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He took a hesitant step closer. “I … I’m sorry if I took it too far.”

  “No, you’re not.” Giving him the impression I wanted things PC in the bedroom would be my worst mistake.

  He smirked, meeting my eyes and showing zero regret but plenty of satisfaction. “No. I’m not.”

  “Good. I prefer to keep things honest where sex is involved. Fewer misunderstandings that way.”

  “So you’re okay with what happened? Your feelings matter to me, Avery.”

  Why did he have to be a nice guy when it would be so much more convenient if he were a jerk at the moment? It made it impossible to hate the shithead who occupied the other half of his soul.

  “I’m okay.” The words didn’t feel like a lie.

  He took another step closer. “Did you like it?”

  “N—I… Some.”

  He smiled and lowered to the coffee table, so we were sitting across from each other. Our knees brushed as he gently took my hand. “Which parts?”

  I wasn’t sure. I sort of liked the way he touched me now. I liked when he was nice to me. “I’m not sure.”

  I also kind of liked when he wasn’t so nice, which probably made me fucked in the head.

  “You can tell me.”

  “I honestly don’t know. Last night was weird. Different from what I’m used to. If you were anyone else, I would have ripped your nuts off. But you’re not anyone else. You’re my frienemy neighbor who slow dances with me in the snow to Christmas carols. The guy who cooks me hot cocoa and makes sure I have a backup phone charger available in a blizzard. I want to be mad at you for last night, and I should, but I’m not.”

  His head tipped away from my full view, toward the floor as his smile widened. “I think, if we can manage not to kill each other, we can have something great, Avery. I know you like things a certain way, but last night I proved my way wasn’t so bad either.”

  I scoffed and rolled my eyes at his arrogance. “Because your way has to be better, right? I mean, it’s yours.”

  “I’m just saying we could try some things—”

  “Okay. Let’s try it my way. What are your soft and hard limits?”

  “Don’t get all dominatrix woman on me.” He smirked. “I mean, if you want to put on a tight leather corset, you might get my attention, but otherwise the bossy stuff doesn’t do it for me.”

  “And you know this because you’re so experienced as a bottom?”

  “Use normal words, Avery.”

  “Bottom is submissive. Top is dominant. These aren’t advanced terms, especially for someone as deep in the rabbit hole of the porn industry as you claim to be.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I could be a bottom. But I’d rather be in charge.”

  “So would I.”

  “But you loved last night.”

  “Nobody used that word. I said I didn’t know how I felt about last night, but it was okay. I’m not going to stroke your ego and basically fake orgasmic praise to make you feel good. You got laid last night. You should feel fine.”

  He dropped my hand. “I didn’t ask you to stroke my ego. And I know for a fact no orgasms were faked.”

  “But you’re fishing for praise.”

  He glared at me. “I want to figure you out.”

  “Well, where did you put your morning newsletter of Freud’s theories? That will have all the main bullet points of how women are innately masochistic and passive. Being that you have a penis, and therefore a bigger brain, it should be easy enough for you to figure me out.”

  “Don’t make me out like some male chauvinist. I’m trying to be open-minded.”

  “But that’s what you want, isn’t it? A woman to be your passive little fuck toy and tell you what a big man you are.”

  His lips tightened, and I sensed he wanted to call me a bitch. “I just wish I knew why you need so much control.”

  “Why do you? Rather than act like there’s something wrong with me, why not do a little research, Noah? There’s a great big world out there on that thing the kids call the Internet. You know, the place where you find all your porn. Widen the search for a change.”

  “Avery, I’ve done the search. It’s a black hole of kink. I want to know where it ends for you.”

  My smile was slow. “That’s the fun of it. I’ll let you know when I decide.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “We aren’t playing a game, we’re having a conversation.”

  “What do you want to know, Noah? You want answers? I don’t know why I’m this way, but I am. It’s who I’ve always been. You might sneak a few nights of male domination in when my radar is down, but in the end, I am who I am.”

  “But you go out with men who…”

  I raised a brow, daring him to judge me based on my occupation. “Consider it my professional persona.”

  He dragged a hand through his damp hair and let out a breath. “You go out with all these guys who … buy you things. You make a trade out of letting men dote over you. I think you’re lying if you can’t admit wanting a man to take care of you on some level.”

  “I can take care of myself. They’re paying my tuition. Everything else is just fluff. And last I checked, fucking is fucking. That has nothing to do with how I make a living because I don’t screw my clients.”

  Oh God… Was I actually considering changing that rule? Could I have sex with Micah?

  “That’s what I mean, Avery. You have different rules for different situations, but you’re the same woman in all those scenarios, so maybe you prefer to live a little bit in both worlds.”

  Being a sugar baby put me in a subservient role where empathy was key, and my main purpose was to see that my Daddies’ needs were met. Part of me liked serving that purpose and nurturing in an emotional sense. I never really thought about it, but it was a complete contradiction to what I wanted in my personal life.

  At home, I wanted control, order, and obedience. I wanted my words and desires to be law. Out there, I had no such authority. Or did I? I chose my clients, made the rules, and negotiated my rate.

  Was it possible to be a little bit of both? Because I loved having men take care of me, yet… None of their attention was genuine. Nor was my response. It was all bought.

  No. I had control. He was confusing things. He looked at things through a novice lens, and there were layers upon layers of rationale behind my choices.

  “Domination isn’t about sex, Noah. It’s about social anxiety, the bending of a strong wil
l, the feeling of outmaneuvering someone who should be stronger. Having submissive traits in public tells nothing about a person’s behavior in private. There are countless female CEOs who love to come home and play the submissive. It’s the role reversal that gets them off. I might have the occasional tendency to nurture, but at the end of the day I like when men…”

  Beg? Squirm? Worship me? Grow frantic with desperate need? Suffer at the brink of a climax that would inevitably be denied? Jeez, maybe there was something wrong with me.

  “I just like control,” I said, deciding that word summed it up enough. “I like sex when I’m in total control. Last night, you stole that from me—again.”

  “I’m pretty sure you handed it over. If I recall, your words were, fuck me like you mean it. I did exactly what you told me to do.”

  Huh. Maybe that’s why I let him treat me that way. My eyes had watered as he pinned me down and rammed his cock down my throat, choking me… And I fucking loved it.

  I fucked up. Where was that precise moment I could feel his will bending under mine?

  It hadn’t happened.

  Noah never ceded control. Yet, he had me bending every humanly way possible last night.

  Damn him! What was it with this guy? What was so special about him? I didn’t want to keep making these mistakes. I liked sex when I was in control, and the longer he fucked with me and proved otherwise, the more my authority and common sense took a hit.

  “Avery,” he said my name quietly, drawing my attention back to the conversation. “Could it be possible that you’re wrong? Maybe—before—there were certain circumstances that made your life feel out of control, and you were supplementing. Could it be that things are better now? You’re almost finished school, and you have a great apartment. Maybe whatever had happened before isn’t a threat anymore and you can let go now. Is that such a bad thing?”

  My gaze hardened. I didn’t like feeling psychoanalyzed. “Gee whiz, Noah, maybe you’re right. If I could just pinpoint that moment of my childhood that broke me, you could fix me up.” I looked up at him, just a waif with big eyes. “We could try pushing my limits and safe wording when things got too intense. Either way, I’m sure your magic cock can save the day.”