Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
His head drops forward. “Christ, that feels so good, baby.”
My pulse pumps madly, pleasure passing through me in a wave, all the way down to my toes. This is what I want. What I love. Taking care of him in these small but significant ways. He likes to buy me expensive material items and I’m the one who soothes him. Makes him better from behind the scenes. It’s what I’ve longed for since the first time I walked past Gunner’s office and saw him pinching the bridge of his nose, poring over endless paperwork.
After absorbing my touch for several minutes in silence, he takes a bite of the sandwich. “Damn,” he rumbles, examining it. “This isn’t half bad.”
I wiggle my hips triumphantly. “I’m going to have you meditating in no time.”
He glances back at me over his shoulder. “It really bothers you, doesn’t it? Having me so stressed out and overworked?”
Smile fading, I nod, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I worry. A lot,” I whisper. Wetting my lips, I search for an explanation. “For you, mostly. You work harder than anyone. I was little, my father’s business partner would come to the house for dinner once a week. Bunton was in his fifties, a sweet man. Old-school finance, where my father was the young upstart. And one day, Bunton didn’t come to dinner anymore because the stress gave him a heart attack.” My chest starts to get crowded. “If something like that h-happened to you—”
Gunner turns in his chair and pulls me into his lap. “It won’t, Josie.” He kisses my mouth softly, followed by my forehead. “I won’t let it. I’m…” Pulling back, he seems like he wants to say something important, his complexion reddening slightly. “Let’s just say, my priorities are beginning to…change.” Our eyes meet and the gravity in his pulls me under. “There is more to life than working and making money, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” I whisper, holding my breath.
“I’ve made my fortune. I…have a girl I want to spend it on.” He picks up a strand of my hair and rubs it between his fingers. “A girl I want to spend my time with.”
My heart is poised to rejoice, until I realize…Gunner is already spending his time and money on me. He can have both of those things while I’m his sugar baby. He isn’t saying anything about going public with our relationship or seriously committing. But I refuse to be disappointed. We’ve only had a week since our arrangement started. I’m being greedy by wanting more already. It’s my heart’s fault—it has loved him so long.
“Are you talking about me, by any chance?” I murmur, kissing his jaw flirtatiously.
In lieu of response, Gunner slides something across his desk. A black American Express card. “Does that answer your question, little girl?”
My body has an odd response to Gunner’s newest gift.
At first, my heart sinks, because I thought he was on the verge of confessing real, lasting feelings for me. Instead, he’s giving me a bottomless credit card. But oh…there is something about being spoiled rotten that makes my flesh clench needily. There is something about being the naughty little secret, paid for pleasure, that turns me wet and pliant. My heart and my body are not communicating properly—and unfortunately, right now in this dark office, sitting on the lap of this gorgeous hunk of man, my lady business is winning the battle. Later, I might feel differently, but right now all I can think about is pleasing my overworked sugar daddy. Being his relief, his port in the storm of this cutthroat business.
“Thank you,” I twist my bottom on his erection. “You’re so good to me.”
He exhales in a rush, shaking his head. “You’re much, much better to me.”
I bite my lip and giggle. “Papa, you sound funny.”
Gunner’s gaze flies to mine. My pulse dances dizzyingly, waiting with bated breath for his response. He calls me little girl and I call him Papa. But we’ve never played a game like this. Does he want to? It came so naturally to me, I didn’t have to think about it. What if he thinks I’m weird? Twisted? “Well…” he swallows hard. “You’re getting a little old to sit in Papa’s lap.”
I almost gasp at the inundation of lust that blares through me. What is this? Why does it feel like we’ve been heading here all along? “Why?” I pout. “I like sitting in your lap.”
Gunner tugs on his collar, breathing hard. “Do you feel that…hard bulge underneath you, baby?”
Frowning thoughtfully, I wiggle around, making him hiss a curse. “Uh-huh. What is it?”
“That’s my cock.” His index finger traces a circle on my knee. “It’s getting harder and harder the longer you sit in my lap.”
I giggle again. “Why?”
“It knows you can make it feel good.” Very slowly, he drags my skirt up to mid-thigh, roughly kneading the sensitive inner portion. “All kinds of different ways.”