Craving Sugar (Sugar Daddy Romance)

Hendrix

“I’m not hiring a whore,” I all but snarled, pissed at the idiot in front of me. I was tired and stressed; lacked the basic urge to be an understanding individual, much less give the asshole in front of me the benefit of doubt.

Jax, my closest friend since college, had caught me off guard—something that never happened these days.

Nothing surprised me anymore, not since that night four years ago. The night my entire world stopped.

Fuck. Focus on the here and now.

“Why?” he asked, bringing me away from that dark path filled with memories—moments frozen in time that never failed to haunt me. “Answer me.”

The jerk sounded amused—a pit bull with a bone. He wasn’t going to let it go.

Rubbing a hand down my face, I bit back a tired groan. “No.”

Of all the moronic crap he could have spewed, I had not been expecting this; for me to hire someone to play the role of my girlfriend for the next few months.

“Think about it, Hendrix. It’s legal, safe...” he ticked each reason off with his fingers “...and, she must sign an NDA to enter into this kind of an agreement. No one will know.”

Slamming back the shot of whiskey in my glass, I leveled him with a glare. “Get the fuck out.”

“Speak up, man. Your staff went home.” Holding his now-empty tumbler out in front of him, he twirled the glass atop my desk. “There’s no one here to judge you. That prim and proper act you put on can be turned off.”

“Is all this a joke to you?” I hissed out from between clenched teeth. “Am I your amusement for the evening?”

“Come off it, Parker. I came here to see the asshole I know, my friend, not this...” he waved his hand absentmindedly in my direction. “To be honest, I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“Then leave.”

“No. Enough with the hiding. Emptiness—”

I slammed my hand down; the cup of pens close to me tipped over from the impact. “Don’t go there, Jax. Just get up and walk out. Quit pushing.”

“Jesus, man, what the hell is holding you back? A memory? Ghost?”

“Enough.”

“Dammit, Hendrix.” He pushed his chair back and stood to pace the length of my office. Ran a hand roughly through his blonde hair in agitation. “This...” he pointed a finger between us “... is an intervention. You’re young, successful, rich—own the real estate game in South Florida. Known as an asshole, a shark in the business arena, and that’s gained you quite a desired reputation.” Stopping by the window on the far right, Jax turned and glared. “You have that whole tall, dark, and handsome shit going on with your over six-foot-two stature and brooding charm. People respect you, but fuck, man, that’s not enough when you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live.”

“I’m content enough.”

Jax scoffed at my response, his hands placed on the window ledge in front of him. “Content is the equivalent of blah. My friend, you need to rediscover the feel of a woman beneath you. The passion. The heat between her legs.”

Ignoring his spiel, I shut my laptop off and stored it. “Still a no on hiring someone just to appease you.”

No matter how desperate I was to pull the pressure off my persona.

No matter how long it’d been since I dipped my dick into something tight...wet.

Smirk firmly in place, he walked back over and grabbed the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label on my desk. “Prude much, Parker?” He poured himself another fifth and then sipped slowly, all the while studying me with a cocked brow. “And I never once mentioned hiring a whore.”

Pushing my glass toward him, I sat back. “What’s the difference? Both are paid to keep you company.”

“Sugar babies are where it’s at, my friend. A mutual exchange of benefits.”

“Answer me this...” Jax nodded “...is money exchanged?”

“It can be if—”

Holding a hand up, I halted his pathetic excuse. “And you don’t call that prostitution?”

“Would you say my girlfriend Crystal is a prostitute?” What would the young woman I met on his boat a few weeks back have to do with anything? “That she’s easy and out to make a quick buck?”

The hell?

“She’s...?” I asked, because Jesus. Was this man really sitting here in my office telling me he had a live-in play toy? That he bought her? “What kind of barbaric shit is this? How could you do that? What if word gets out, you idiot.”

“And if it did, so what? I’m not ashamed of her or us.” His jaw was set tight, and his blue eyes dared me to say anything negative about her. Jax, my easygoing friend, was pissed. Fuming, if the way his hands were clenched was anything to go by.

“I meant no offense to her, but couldn’t you meet someone through a more traditional route? Someone who cares about more than just the zeros that decorate your bank balance?” This entire conversation was giving me a headache, and I rubbed my temples. I was too tired to continue trying to make sense of this confession.

“And I’ll counter that question with one of my own.” My mouth opened to protest, but he shook his head before taking another sip of whiskey. His eyes were on mine, unwavering. Looking for something. “Wouldn’t you rather meet someone and know their intentions up front? No games or playing pretend. A mutual and even exchange.”

Headache now pounding, I pushed back my seat as if I were standing to leave. “Still not interested—”

Not taking the bait, Jax leaned over the table, a mischievous look in his eye. “Then let me paint a better picture for you, Parker.” He was about to drop some knowledge on me, and I knew it. Should’ve seen it coming for miles. “You have two months to find a date for the few events honoring your pompous ass this fall. And before you say that you’ll decline and hide away on your boat in the Keys, it’s not going to happen. The mayor will not take no for an answer...he and his wife live for these events. To mingle with the rich and arrogant.”

“Would you stop worrying about my life? I’ll be fine.” Absentmindedly, I ran my fingers across my short beard. My mind still reeled from his admission.

I’d spoken to Crystal that day and was impressed. In school, and working toward her master’s in psychology, she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.

Didn’t hurt one bit that the body attached to the head was downright sexy.

His laughter pulled my attention away from the memory of the tiny auburn-haired beauty in a bikini. “Admit it, Hendrix, you’re curious.” Tone smug, he had a gloating gleam in his eye.

“Not in the least.”

“So, if I informed you that the account was already made, and you have some hits, you wouldn’t care? I should just shut everything down?”

My fists clenched in anger. “Are you serious? Do you have any idea what that could do to my reputation—”

“Let me stop you right there.” Holding out a hand toward me, Jax dug into his laptop bag on the chair beside him. From inside he pulled out a plain manila folder and pushed it across toward me. “This is all the information you’ll need: contract, company NDA that I signed for you, health screening information, and what you’ll need to submit. Read it. Sleep on it. Check out the website and the girls’ files available for possible match.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Too late. It’s already done.”

XXX

Beau

“I’m so screwed,” I whined from my place, head down on the coffee shop’s table. I’d just turned in my finals paper in this semester’s Special Education: Behavioral Intervention course and was fried.

Well, if you could call individual lesson planning that would benefit two kids the age of nine assigned to me a paper. It was more of a teaching assessment. Different needs—IEPs that were set at two different places of the spectrum.

It was my dream to work with autistic children, and it all stemmed from my older sister’s daughter being diagnosed with autism. Four years old and a total cutie, Aubrey was the light of the family. Loved her as if she were my own, and I needed to help out.

To learn what I could and give back to a community full of vibrant children.

A dream that now seemed millions of miles away.

Tired. Exhausted. Plain old freaking the hell out, I was drowning.

From my viewpoint, there was no escaping the dead weight I carried. The responsibilities.

Other people’s expectations.

My family’s demands.

Do what my pregnant, out-of-high-school sister couldn’t: earn a degree.

“Talk to Victor, Beau.” My friend Ruby placed a hand on my shoulder. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but now, it made things worse. I didn’t want to be pitied. “I’m sure he could give you a few extra shifts here or there at Carmencita’s.”

“With school being out and everyone heading home, the small bar’s hours will slow. I’ll be lucky to get twenty-eight hours max waiting tables. I’m going to need another job, Ruby. Something with a more permanent schedule.”

“Shit. That’s true.” She pursed her lips and tapped the puckered flesh with the tip of her manicured finger. “Well, you could take mine this weekend and if all goes well, next too. I sort of...kind of...have plans and told Victor you would cover for me.”

No sense in telling her that I was not her maid; the girl was impossible when she heard the word no. So, I chose which battles were worth picking, and this was not one of them.

My forehead left the table, and I arched a brow. “Who’s the lucky asshole this week?” Loved Rubes to pieces, but the girl was truly working her way through this university’s male student body.

“Stop being a prude, chick. Max and I—”

“Max?” Now this had my total attention. Sitting back, I appraised her with a calculating stare.

“Stop it.” She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder.

Blush: check.

Wide smile: check.

Twinkle in her blue eyes: holy hell, check.

“Are we talking about basketball Max? Dated-him-for-three-months-a-year-ago Max?”

“Yes,” she hissed out, nose turned up in the air. “He wants us to clear the air, and I said yes. Will you cover for me?”

Shrugging, I sighed. “For your in-love butt, why not. I’m sure I could schedule sleep in once I’m dead.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ruby clapped her hands, and a group of girls beside our table looked over. Two seemed annoyed, while the third looked at me with surprise. Her dark eyes stayed on mine while she twirled a piece of burgundy hair, a contemplative look on her face.

I’d seen them around campus a time or two. A tight-knit group that dressed to the nines and only socialized with each other. You’d never see them at bars near our school or parties thrown by the different fraternities.

“...anyways, it’ll come in handy. I know you’re freaking out with next semester’s tuition looming over your head. That must be so hard. I don’t know if I could deal with all that pressure.”

Taking my eyes off the other group’s table, I looked back at Ruby. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“Still think you should just tell your parents what’s going on. They’ll help, Beau. Stop being so prideful.”