Roberts, Sarah - His Sugar Baby (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 4

  Cathy threw back the sheet, anxious to break free of the vivid memories of the past several hours. She clumsily snatched up her clothing and stumbled into the bathroom.

  After showering and dressing in her crumpled clothing and shoes, she grabbed her purse and went downstairs. She tentatively tiptoed through the area, glancing into the rooms that she passed. She eventually came to the kitchen at the back of the house. She discovered Michael at breakfast. She hesitated in the doorway, feeling acutely self-conscious and uncertain.

  Michael did not appear to suffer from the same awkwardness. When he looked up and saw her, he invited her to join him at the table. “I didn’t know what you would like. There’s fresh coffee, fruit and kolaches.”

  Cathy seated herself with a murmur of thanks. She was too keyed up to be hungry, but if she was doing something as normal as eating maybe she could get through the uncomfortable experience of facing the man who had given her the most erotic night of her life.

  Cathy put a couple of the warm pastries on a plate. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe. Her hands were trembling, and the hot liquid splashed over the rim of her cup. She flushed, hoping that he had not noticed.

  If he did, he chose not to comment on her clumsiness. “I’m leaving for my office shortly, so I will be brief. I have already arranged for a taxi for you. It will arrive before long. This is for you because we are in one another’s company right now.”

  * * * *

  Michael laid a hundred-dollar bill beside her plate. He studied her face, gauging her state of mind. He did not allow his own expression to give away any hint of his thoughts. He said quietly, very deliberately, “I enjoyed my time with you, Winter. I want to meet with you again, the sooner the better depending on our schedules.”

  Her face flamed. She dropped her gaze to the hundred-dollar bill. She held her body stiffly, defensively, and one of her hands curled into a fist. He waited silently, watching the conflicting emotions on her face. When she looked up again, she said abruptly, “I can’t meet you every day.”

  “I believe I made clear how much time I require of you each week.” Michael picked up his coffee cup and carried it to his lips. He was careful not to allow the satisfaction he felt at her implied acquiescence to appear in his expression. He had seen the war of emotions in her eyes at dinner last night and again now in her frowning expression. He wanted to do nothing that would strengthen her indecision. Winter was exciting in bed, and he wanted her to stay in his. Already the lust was curling through his belly, his shaft beginning to swell.

  Last night he had held her wrists together in his hand, giving her the illusion that he was overpowering her and her ability to make a different choice than the one she ultimately had. In the same way his instincts told him how to close a business deal, he knew that stating his firm expectations about their sexual liaison would help her to salve her conscience. She could delude herself that he was to blame for the course she had decided on. The challenge of eventually bringing her to accept that it had been her decision, and only hers, to become his bedmate only added zest to the situation.

  “Then you’ll have to clarify for me the three thousand a month.” Her beautiful hazel eyes were narrowed as she gazed at him. Her lips were tight, and there was a hostile note in her voice.

  Michael was unsurprised by her antagonism. It was all part of securing the deal. She’s going to take it. His feeling of satisfaction intensified. The corner of his mouth edged up. “Fair enough. I will direct deposit three thousand dollars into your bank account on the first of each month, dependent upon the ongoing nature of our arrangement. Until then, I will give you a hundred dollars whenever we are together.”

  * * * *

  Cathy looked away from his steady regard. His ice-blue eyes were unreadable. If only she just wasn’t so desperate. She struggled with herself, against her need, and she lost. Feeling utterly defeated, she said, “I will e-mail my bank information.”

  He nodded. “We can iron out the details of our next meeting at a later time. Are you ever free during work hours?”

  “My work schedule can be flexible, yes,” she admitted warily. She was reluctant to cede any more to him than she had already relinquished, but things were moving so quickly that it was difficult to process what she should say.

  “Good. Most of our time together will be in the evenings, but on occasion when my schedule allows I might want to meet during the work day. Communicating through e-mail alone is inherently cumbersome. Do you have a cell number?”

  “I do.” Cathy thought about the kind of calls that she routinely received from the hospital and from work. “I’d rather not use my cell for this.”

  He nodded again. “I understand. I’ll get you another phone. It will be more discreet that way.”

  Cathy was floored by his astounding nonchalance. His decision to provide her with a cell phone had been instant. There had been no hesitation at all, no mention of cost or inconvenience. He simply waved aside the complication. Just who is this man?

  In the distance she heard the chime of a bell. Michael pushed back his chair and rose from the table, throwing down his napkin. “That will be the taxi. No, stay, finish what you have there. I’ll be back in a moment.” He strode away and disappeared toward the front of the house.

  Cathy swiftly finished eating a kolache and swiped her mouth and hands with her napkin. Hesitant, she barely touched her fingertips to the hundred dollar bill. With a shake of her head, she picked it up and put it into her purse. She had said everything except the actual words to Michael. But it was obvious, both to her and to him, that she had agreed to enter into the arrangement that he had offered her.

  Michael returned. His pale gaze skimmed over her. “You’re ready? Good. I’ve told the driver to take you wherever you want to go. I’ve already paid him so you won’t be put to any expense.”

  Coolly, as though he had every right to do so, he pulled her to her feet and gathered her into his arms. Disregarding her stiffness, he tilted up her chin and kissed her very thoroughly.

  Cathy felt one of his large hands glide over her hip, pulling her body into close proximity to him. She felt the unmistakable bulge pressing into her belly. Her heart, already beating hard, speeded up. But he did nothing else except to kiss her deeply, openmouthed. Her senses began to reel at the heat of his mouth, the intimate stroke of his tongue.

  When Michael was done branding her with his taste and the feel of him, he walked her to the door and then outside to see her into the cab. He did not close the cab door immediately. She looked up at him in question. He held her eyes, saying very softly, “I’ll be in touch.” He deliberately slid his gaze to the fullness of her bosom. Cathy could not stop the blush that climbed into her cheeks, and he gave a satisfied smile. He straightened and shut the door. He stepped back on the curb.

  “Miss, where to?” At the cab driver’s query, Cathy gave him the name of the restaurant where she had met Michael for dinner. It was where she had left her car the night before. As the cab pulled away, Cathy looked over her shoulder through the back window. Michael had not remained at the curb to watch her drive off. She resolutely turned back around. She had not really expected him to do so, had she?

  Chapter Four

  After retrieving her car and returning to her apartment, Cathy went into her bedroom intending only a quick change of clothing before she left to visit her daughter at the hospital. When she had been preoccupied with her post-coital conversation with Michael, she had been only marginally aware of how she felt physically. Now, as she pulled off her rumpled clothes, she was aware of every twinge and ache.

  Her body was unusually stiff, especially the muscles of her inner thighs and elsewhere that had not been used or stretched in a long time. Her bra rubbed uncomfortably against the peaks of her sensitive breasts, and it was a relief to rid herself of the lacy garment. She glanced down at herself. Her nipples were reddened and felt chapped.

  Changing her mind about redres
sing, Cathy filled the bathtub and poured in Epsom salts. She lowered her protesting body into the soothing warmth. Leaning her head back against the tile wall, she closed her eyes. Raising her wet hands out of the water, she cupped her breasts and drew her thumbs firmly over her nipples. They budded instantly. She shuddered, recalling how it had felt to have Michael’s skilled hands and his hot marauding mouth suckling her breasts.

  However reluctantly she had entered upon this affair, despite her guilt and shame, her body had been powerfully aroused. Just thinking about how Michael had touched her, how he had made her convulse with pleasure, caused liquid heat to pool between her thighs.

  Cathy could scarcely comprehend what had happened to her. She didn’t understand. How could the sexual experience with a stranger have been so good? The lovemaking with her ex-husband had always been disappointing. She had thought something was wrong with her. She had believed that she was somehow inadequate in her emotional and physical makeup. Her ex had done nothing to counter her low self-esteem. He had freely and frequently expressed his belief that she was frigid.

  What a naïve twit I was, Cathy thought in disgust. In one night, a stranger had overturned everything that she had ever believed about herself.

  Now she knew that Rick had been the one who was inadequate. He had been a selfish lover, rarely expending any energy in seeing that she was aroused, instead being wholly centered on his own pleasure. Under his impatient tutelage she had learned how to “service” a man. It had been just as cold and mechanical as that.

  As she relaxed in the warm, soothing water, absently running her fingers over her body, the thought drifted through her mind to wonder what more Michael could teach her.

  Cathy sat straight up in the tub, sloshing bathwater over the side to splash on the linoleum floor. What was she thinking? She shook her head hard to clear it. She had not entered into this arrangement to learn anything. This was a business arrangement. How could she even begin to think about actually seeking to take pleasure in it or – or anything like that! She was a moral person. What she was doing was wrong on so many levels. It would never have occurred to her to do anything like this. Extreme need had led her outside the norm. She hadn’t had much choice, she thought somberly.

  Cathy climbed out of the tub and toweled dry and then mopped up the water on the floor with her towel. She dressed in a pale-gray suit over a button-down blouse and slipped on a pair of soft bone pumps. She swiftly put up her hair and did her makeup. As she picked up her purse and left the apartment, she firmly banished from her mind any more stupid thoughts. She also suppressed the image of a disturbingly attractive, sexy man.

  * * * *

  Cathy pushed open the heavy gray metal door and entered her daughter’s hospital room. She was struck, as she always was, by how small her little girl looked in the large hospital bed. The girl’s expression was somber, her tiny mouth drooped. There was a coloring book on her lap, and she listlessly moved a crayon against the paper. A wave of overpowering love rushed through her. “Hi, baby.”

  Her daughter’s head shot up. Chloe’s small, wan face was transformed by a gap-toothed smile. Her brown eyes sparkled. “Mommy!”

  “I brought you some Skittles.” Out of her shoulder bag, Cathy pulled a small Ziploc bag containing a half-dozen of the round brightly colored candies.

  “Yeah!” Chloe made a clumsy grab for the Ziploc, and laughing, Cathy let her have it. Chloe opened the Ziploc. “I love Skittles!”

  “I know you do.” Cathy sat down on the bed and warmly kissed the top of her daughter’s head. Chloe was wearing a new hat, a silken skull cap printed with a wild array of pink and yellow flowers. “I like your hat today. All you need are some hoop earrings, and you’d look like a gypsy fortuneteller.”

  Her daughter looked pleased. “Can you get me pink earrings?”

  “I’ll look,” Cathy promised, nodding. Her daughter had always loved hats, which was an especially fortunate thing once Chloe’s hair had fallen out.

  Cathy’s best friend, an Internet administrator, had designed and set up a web page on Chloe’s behalf. Thanks to the web page, word had gotten out about what a fashion maven the seven-year-old was, and small hats, caps and scarves of all kinds had been sent to her. A sanitized collection of the head gear had been stashed in a trunk in the closet of Chloe’s private hospital room. Chloe had long been a favorite on the floor, and the nurses on duty made a game of it each day to ask Chloe which hat she wanted to wear. It was one small way to distract a sick little girl from the grim realities of life in the cancer ward. Cathy knew that Chloe took delight in surprising her, so she always made a special point of noticing what Chloe had chosen.

  Chloe popped one of her favorite red Skittles into her mouth. “I didn’t get sick today from the medicine.”

  “I’m glad,” Cathy said softly. Her daughter snuggled up close to her, an old stuffed kitten tucked under one thin arm. The kitten had seen better days, Cathy thought. She should get a replacement for it.

  A nurse who was unfamiliar to Cathy came into the room to take Chloe’s vital signs and to check the IV drip. Glancing up, Cathy noticed that the woman was frowning down at them. With a swift stab of anxiety, she couldn’t help but wonder why. Was there something wrong with Chloe’s vitals? However, the nurse left without remarking on the readings that she had recorded, and Cathy told herself to relax.

  “When can I go home, Mommy?”

  Cathy felt a squeezing in her chest. She shut her eyes for a moment against the blinding stab of pain. Her daughter didn’t often ask the question anymore. She didn’t know which was worse—for Chloe to ask or not. Cathy forced her voice to be matter-of-fact. “The doctor isn’t here right now for me to ask him. I’ll talk to him tomorrow and see, okay?”

  “Okay.” Chloe sighed. After a moment, she raised her head so that her earnest brown eyes could meet her mother’s gaze. “I really wasn’t sick today. So maybe he’ll say I can go home.”

  Cathy nodded, almost afraid to trust her voice. She made herself smile for her daughter’s sake. “I’ll be sure to tell him. I see that you’ve been coloring pictures. May I see them?”

  As she had hoped, Chloe was diverted. Her daughter happily showed off her coloring book, chattering away. Before long, lunch was brought in for them. Cathy had requested a tray for herself before she had come to the room so that she would be able to eat with her daughter. She watched closely while Chloe picked at her food. She was glad to see that her daughter managed to nibble more than a few bites.

  The precious time with her daughter passed all too swiftly. Cathy glanced up at the black hands on the large, round utilitarian clock on the wall. Reluctantly, she eased off of the bed and bent to settle her daughter. “It’s time for me to go to work and for you to take a nap, pumpkin.”

  Chloe nodded obediently. Showing off her colored pictures and eating lunch had tired her. She yawned and held up her toothpick-thin arms for a hug, and Cathy gathered her close. “You’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow?”

  “I will talk to him.”

  “Promise?”

  “Pinky swear.” Cathy kissed her tenderly and smiled down at her. Satisfied, Chloe nodded. She closed her eyes and burrowed into her pillow. Cathy smoothed the blankets up over her small shoulders. The stuffed, nearly hairless kitten shared the pillow. Looking at it, Cathy shook her head.

  Cathy left the hospital room. As she gently closed the door behind her, she was approached by the nurse who had checked her daughter’s vital signs.

  “Ms. Somerset, if I may speak to you for a moment.”

  Cathy gave a friendly nod. “You’re new, aren’t you? I haven’t seen you before. Please, call me Cathy.”

  The nurse nodded acknowledgement. However, her expression remained cool. “Ms. Somerset, I noticed that you gave Chloe some candy. I’m afraid it will probably make her sick to her stomach.”

  Cathy gave a small laugh, preserving her friendliness in the face of the nurse’s stiff manner. “It proba
bly will,” she agreed. “But Chloe loves Skittles and—”

  “Ms. Somerset, we can’t allow you to deliberately give Chloe something that will make her vomit,” said the nurse firmly. “Please do not bring any more candy to her.”

  Cathy’s eyes widened with shock. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her thoughts vibrated with amazed anger. “Regular food makes Chloe vomit. Water makes her vomit. It’s the chemo that makes her vomit!” Her shaking voice had risen by degrees, loud enough to begin drawing attention from others on the floor.

  The nurse tightened her lips. “I must insist that you do not give Chloe anything else that is not specifically authorized by her physician.”

  “Chloe loves Skittles,” Cathy stated emphatically. There was a deepening, clawing pressure building in her chest. Suddenly, desperately, she was trying to breathe.

  “I understand, ma’am, but—”

  Cathy felt something inside of her snap. The air whooshed strongly out of her lungs. “Do you understand? Do you really! Do you understand that my little girl has been ill for nearly two years? That she spends more time here with needles stuck in her arms than she does with me?”

  Her whole body was shaking. She took a step forward and leaned in close, getting in the woman’s astonished face. “There are no more play dates! There is no going-back-to-school shopping for a pink lunch box or colored pencils or crayons!” Fury poured out of her. “She started reading when she was five years old. She’s smart and pretty and funny. She should be in school or playing with her friends. But she’s here instead. And you’re telling me that she can’t have a few pieces of her favorite candy! You stupid, stupid, insensitive bitch!”

  The nurse backed away, her professional facade crumbling in the face of Cathy’s rage. The head nurse suddenly inserted herself between the two women. She snapped over her shoulder at her underling. “Get back to the station! I will speak to you later.” Then she turned back around to confront Cathy. Her tone of voice and her manner gentled. She put a restraining hand on Cathy’s forearm. “It’s all right, Cathy. It’s okay.”