Roberts, Sarah - His Sugar Baby (Siren Publishing Allure) Read online

  His fingers bit into her hips, holding her away from his cock. His breath was a harsh rasp. “Tell me with your hands, Winter!”

  “I don’t know what you want!”

  He didn’t answer her. He only stroked her again, tortuously stopping and starting and stopping. She was dry-sobbing with frustration before he spoke again. He was panting like he had been running for miles as he bit out the words. “Tell me, Winter! With your hands! Touch me, damn you!”

  Through her haze of desire, Winter reached up between her legs and collared the base of his hot hard flesh. “Please, Michael! I need this!” she gasped in desperation. “I need you!”

  His weight fell on her, crushing her, pushing her forward on the bed. His mouth closed fiercely over hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. With a sob, she wound her arms around his neck. As he drove home, she cried out with the exquisite sear of heat inside her.

  He took her hard and fast, and Winter gloried in it. It was what she wanted, what she needed. She raked her nails down his back, scoring the skin and heard his swift in-drawn breath. His powerful body jerked in her arms. A fierce exhilaration swept through her. She did it again, her nails raking deeper. He cursed in her ear and drove himself harder into her. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, and she met him thrust for thrust. The burning heat began to climb, hurtling her forward into the flames. The conflagration leapt high, licking at her nerves, tightening every muscle in her body until it burst free. Shooting over the edge, she cried out, spiraling in blinding free fall.

  * * * *

  While she was still shuddering, Michael grasped her legs and bent them until her knees were folded close to her shoulders. He leaned forward, using his weight to force his long ridged shaft into her at the steeper angle. She grunted and arched her neck. Rapidly gaining speed with every forceful stroke, Michael pistoned, driving deep to the hilt, his balls slapping her ass. He felt her fingers dig sharply into his shoulders. She was about to come again. He could feel it in the pulsing of her walls. It felt like he was being sucked into her. Her little panted cries urged him on. “Yes—yes! Do it!”

  The top of his head felt like it was going to explode. His laboring lungs bellowed. He lost rhythm, his thrusting becoming frantic—exquisite fiery pressure. A primal roar was wrenched from his corded throat. His rigid body shuddered, his bursting cock erupting inside her. His hips jerked again, again. Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of her. Vaguely he felt her still quivering in the aftermaths of her own orgasm.

  Michael rolled tiredly to his side, pulling free of her body. He edged her close to him with her head lying on his shoulder. Her wild hair partially curtained her delicate features, and he brushed the soft mass gently out of her face. She was beautiful with her skin flushed, her reddened lips swollen from his kisses. One of her warm hands was curled on his chest, her fingers twisted in his chest hairs. His heart hammered against his ribs. He could feel the burn of the scratches scored into his back. He was pleasantly dazed by how aggressive she had become. She stunned him. He basked in the sated feeling, aware of their bodies’ sweat-slickened skin, their limbs still entwined. He felt himself sliding into relaxed somnolence.

  He dimly heard her clear her throat. “Michael, would you mind if—if sometimes I called you?” There was a tremor in her husky voice. “To set up a time to meet, I mean. Or is that against the rules?”

  Instantly, his impending drowsiness dissipated. Surprise held him momentarily silent. He hesitated, turning over the question in his mind to examine it from all angles. He was the initiator in their arrangement. It was something set up for his convenience. Why would she make such a request?

  He wondered suddenly whether she was becoming too attached to him, beginning to want an emotional commitment. Something went hard and still in his chest. On the other hand, he argued with himself, her request could work to his advantage. Hadn’t he just decided that he needed to see more of her, at least for the short term, to work his inexplicable lust for her out of his system? If she was starting to get needy and clingy, that would go a long way in extinguishing the unnaturally strong desire that was presently driving him mad.

  Finally, he said, “As long as we can work it into both of our schedules, I don’t have a problem with it.” He raised himself up on his elbow so that he could look down into her face. He searched her wide hazel eyes. Idly, he palmed her breast, his thumb caressing the softened nipple. “What’s this really about, Winter?”

  She seemed reluctant to reply. Her lashes lowered, hiding her expression from him. “Does it matter?”

  Michael frowned and stopped teasing her breast, his fingers spreading to cover its plump warmth. “It might, if you’re becoming too attached to our relationship.”

  * * * *

  “That isn’t it.” Winter worried her bottom lip with her teeth. She was reluctant to tell him about the panic attacks. He didn’t need to know that much about her, or how she was coming to depend on him as an anchor in the turbulence of her crazy world. He would interpret it as an emotional dependence. It was, but not in the way that he would see it. But she couldn’t fully explain herself to him without saying something about her daughter, and that she would not do. Yet she had to say something plausible, something that he would accept. She finally made up her mind to be as honest with him as she could. She lifted her gaze to meet his dark-browed, frowning expression. “When you called today, I was under a lot of stress. Getting together with you, being with you, helped me.”

  Michael looked down at her rather blankly. Then he laughed, the deep sound rumbling in his chest under her fingers. The flash of his grin transformed his expression. Humor glinted in his ice-blue eyes. “Are you trying to tell me that you want to use me for stress management?”

  “Something like that,” she said, allowing an answering smile to flicker across her lips. She wondered how he felt about her admission. It wasn’t exactly a compliment to him and might actually be a blow to his ego. She studied his face, seeing only amusement in his expression. His eyes gave no clue to what he might be thinking.

  * * * *

  So that’s what was behind her frantic passion. His back still burned where her nails had broken the skin. Michael felt a sudden fierce satisfaction. She was more strongly invested in the continuance of their relationship. There would be no more attempts to break it off. She needed him for sexual release. He had taught her what he could do for her. From now on, she would willingly reach out for him and draw him down into her arms. He had finally seduced her. She was finally his.

  “All right, Winter. If that’s what you want.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cathy’s original intention had been to keep Winter’s life totally separate from her own. There was the separate bank account that held Winter’s wages. There was the cell phone that only one person would call. Her dresser and her closet were divided, one side holding her own clothing and on the opposite side what she thought of as Winter’s clothing and accessories. It was schizophrenic, but it worked for her.

  However, by degrees, there was an inevitable intermingling. When she didn’t get all of her laundry done, she grabbed a bra from the stash that belonged to her Winter-persona. A necklace and the matching chandelier earrings looked good with one of her suits. A purse, a bangle, a change of eye or lip color. The physical boundaries between her life and Winter’s were gradually beginning to blur. And though she did notice, with some irritation, that her wardrobe was absorbing some of Winter’s stuff, it did not occur to her that there was also a slow merging of her real self with the woman that had been created by a personal ad.

  On the day that her sister was due to fly in, she pulled on a pair of Winter’s tight black jeans and topped it with her own heather-green sleeveless knit top. The chandelier earrings went into her ears and a pair of stylish heeled sandals on her feet. Then she ran out to her car, her leather purse swinging jauntily from her shoulder.

  At the airport terminal, Cathy grabbed her sister in a tight hu
g. Her throat constricted with emotion. “Pam! Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

  Her sister’s arms around her were equally as tight. “You, too, Cathy.” She stepped back, and her blue eyes intently searched Cathy’s face. “How is Chloe?”

  Cathy shook her head, the earrings swinging back and forth. She made herself smile. “She’s holding her own for now.”

  Her sister’s eyes briefly squeezed shut. “I’m sorry, Cathy.”

  “Yes.” There wasn’t any need for long explanations. Pam knew her too well. She would read between the lines.

  “You look fantastic, by the way.”

  Cathy was surprised by the compliment. She hadn’t put much thought into her appearance for years. At least, she amended privately, she hadn’t until she had started going out with Michael. It was kind of nice that someone else had noticed. “Thanks. I’ve been making more of an effort recently.”

  They retrieved the luggage and walked out of the terminal to the parking lot, catching a shuttle to where Cathy had parked her car. When they emerged from the shuttle, a wall of summer heat hit them. Sweat beaded between Cathy’s breasts. “I’m parked over here.”

  Cathy unlocked the trunk of her faded old car. She tried not to notice that Pam was eyeing the car. “We can put your luggage here in the back.” They stowed away the luggage, and Cathy unlocked the car. The inside of the car was like an oven. After she started the ignition, she flipped the air-conditioning on high. The system whined loudly as she drove away from the airport. She was acutely aware that her sister was watching where they were going. She braced herself for the inevitable questions when she finally turned onto her street. However, Pam didn’t say a word. She just looked intently through the window as they drove through the rundown area.

  When they got to the apartment, they carried the two cases inside and dropped the luggage on the threadbare living room carpet. In the months that she had lived in the apartment, Cathy had stopped seeing it. Now, looking at her surroundings through fresh eyes, at what her sister must be seeing, Cathy saw the sagging sofa, the cheap chipped table and lamp, the tired-looking armchair. She waited while her sister took slow stock. The dreary apartment was quite a comedown from the beautiful home she had once owned.

  Pam took a deep breath before she turned. Her eyes were troubled. “Cathy, what is going on? You told me you had to sell the house. But I didn’t expect that clunker you’re driving and—and this.” She swept a hand in a comprehensive wave.

  Cathy sighed tiredly. She had known that her sister would not be able to keep from commenting. Actually, she was surprised that Pam had kept silent so long. “No, I don’t suppose you did. It wasn’t just the house and the sedan, Pam. I had to sell…everything.” Better than anyone else, Pam would have a fair idea of what she was talking about. Her sister had been with her on many occasions when she had bought at auction come of the antiques she loved.

  As comprehension swept over Pam’s face, her expression registered shock. “Cathy, you should have said something!”

  “I didn’t want you to worry too much.” Cathy tried for a smile, but she saw that her faltering attempt was not doing much to ease her sister’s distress.

  Pam’s eyes flashed, her voice rose. “We could have helped you!”

  Cathy pushed back her tumbled hair with a shaking hand. “You did help me, more than once. I couldn’t keep going to you and John!”

  After a short tense silence, Pam asked more quietly, “How are you managing?”

  Cathy gave a laugh. “I still have a roof over my head, if that’s what you mean. And the car has its good days and bad days, but so far it’s still getting me where I need to go.”

  Pam shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. How are you, Cathy?”

  Cathy stared at her sister, her eyes locked on Pam’s steady gaze. Pam knew her better than anyone else in the world. The wealth of compassion, underlaid by love, in Pam’s eyes was her undoing. Cathy was broadsided. Something cracked painfully, deeply, inside of her. She burst into tears. The anguish tore from her chest, and her body shook with the violence of her outburst. She started to crumple, but then Pam’s arms wrapped tightly around her. Somehow she came to be sitting on the sofa, leaning into her sister, Pam’s murmurs in her ears. Cathy hung on to her for dear life.

  Cathy didn’t know how long she cried. When at last the storm was over, she was physically exhausted. Clumsily, she pushed upright, breaking free of her sister’s loosened arms. She swallowed, her throat raw. “I’m—I’m sorry.” She scrubbed the backs of her hands over her swollen eyes and wet cheeks. She was still sniffling, and her nose was running. “I’m not usually like this.”

  Pam reached down into her hobo purse for a small package of Kleenex and handed it over. “You idiot. Don’t apologize. You obviously needed that meltdown.”

  Cathy gratefully pulled loose a tissue and blew her nose. “Maybe I did. I do feel better. Tired but better.” She smiled and felt her mouth wobble. “Thanks for coming, Pam.”

  “I would have come before if you had let me,” said Pam with a faintly accusing tone.

  Cathy shrugged helplessly. “I know. But there wasn’t anything you could have done. And you were so far away. I hated to—”

  “Inconvenience me?” Pam’s voice was sharp, crackling with anger. Her eyes blazed blue sparks. “Thanks a lot, Cathy! I’m really that shallow!”

  Hot color surged into Cathy’s face. “I’m sorry, Pammy. Please don’t be mad at me,” she whispered. “I couldn’t take that. Not on top of everything else.”

  Pam shook her head, her anger gone as quickly as it had come. “I’m not mad, not really. I’m just worried about you and Chloe and everything. It’s just so unfair for you and Chloe to suffer like this!”

  Cathy straightened her shoulders, automatically responding as she always did. “I’m okay. It’s Chloe—”

  Pam’s gaze turned fierce again. “No, you’re not okay! Damn it, Cathy! You aren’t freaking Wonder Woman, okay?”

  Cathy was shocked into a giggle. A belly laugh caught her. “W–Wonder Woman? Oh, God!” She fell against the back of the sofa, giving herself over to laughter.

  Pam stared, her eyes wide in alarm. Then her own lips twitched, before she, too, broke down. They shrieked helplessly, hysterically, clinging to one another.

  Cathy laughed so hard that fresh tears ran down her face. Sludgy layers of mental and emotional muck were swept away. For the first time in many months, the air she drew into her lungs came easily and cleanly. When she could at last speak, she said thickly, “God, I’ve missed you!”

  Pam wiped her eyes, spurts of mirth still burbling from her chest. “I’ve missed you, too!”

  Cathy grinned at her with aching affection. “Come on. Let’s get you unpacked.”

  The women got up from the sofa and retrieved the luggage. Cathy ushered her sister into the tiny bedroom that was always waiting for Chloe’s use. It was a typical frilly little-girl’s room, with a spangled canopied four-poster and pink-and-white dresser. Pam regarded the cheerful room in silence before saying quietly, “I’m glad you kept Chloe’s things.”

  Cathy didn’t linger in the bedroom. It always hurt that Chloe wasn’t there. “I’m going to see about putting something together for dinner. Come on when you’re ready.” She walked out and went into the small kitchen, leaving Pam to unpack.

  She had planned a green salad and baked parmesan chicken for their dinner. Swiftly she prepared the chicken breasts and slid them into the preheated oven. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the makings for a green salad.

  Pam came into the kitchen. Leaning a hip against the counter, she asked quietly, “How often has Chloe been back home with you since you took this apartment?”

  “Only twice,” Cathy said briefly. She did not look up from shredding the lettuce into a salad bowl. She knew what she would see in her sister’s eyes, and she didn’t think that she could bear another dose of compassion. She heard the beep of a cell phon
e, signaling an incoming text, and put the head of lettuce on the counter. “Excuse me. I’ve got to take that.”

  She hurried into the living room and snatched her purse up from the sofa. Digging out the cell, she read the text and typed a reply. Then she slipped the cell back into her purse and returned to the kitchen.

  Pam had found the cutting board and was cutting up tomatoes. She looked up. “Who was that? The hospital?”

  “No. Just a friend.” Cathy said nonchalantly. At her sister’s curious gaze, she felt a flush rising in her face. Silently cursing her too-easy tendency to blush, Cathy avoided her sister’s eyes and picked up the lettuce again.

  “Do I know him?”

  Cathy froze for a minisecond before she resumed shredding lettuce. She cast a glance at her sister, only to meet Pam’s knowing expression. Cathy felt a sinking sensation of panic. She tried to bluff. “What makes you think it’s a guy?”

  Pam shrugged. “Because I know you. You didn’t tell me anything about this friend of yours, so it’s got to be a man.” She picked up the cutting board and scraped the tomato wedges into the salad bowl that Cathy had filled. She bumped her sister’s hip with her own. “Come on, spill. Are you seeing Paul again?”

  “No, I’m not dating Paul.” Cathy’s pulse had sped up. She cautioned herself to handle Pam’s curiosity casually. There was no need to get into details, details which she knew would be upsetting to her sister. With a joking air, she said, “All right, you caught me.” She shot a mock hands-off look at her sister. “You don’t know him.”

  Pam raised a slender blonde brow, a slowly widening smile settling on her lips. Her blue eyes sparkled. “Oh, it’s serious!”

  Cathy shook her head and sighed. She should have known. After all, she knew how her sister thought. Pam was a hopeless romantic. “No, it isn’t serious. Not in the way you mean. I enjoy being with Michael. He…makes me forget how bad things are. I don’t feel so panicked when I’m with him.”