Sugar Daddies (4 page)

I forced a smile. “Maybe I will.”

Rick reached out, put a hand on my arm. “We’re more than happy to give you three.”

Three grand a month. My legs were shaking. I could do a lot with three grand a month… If I kept my waitressing job, just weeknights… I could have saved enough in six months, enough for everything, or at least a shot.

My voice came out raspy. “What would you expect for three grand a month?”

The air felt heavy until Carl answered. “Three weekends out of four, ideally. A sunny disposition at all times. And sex. Lots of sex.”

“I can do that.” I wished I was as sure as I sounded, but three grand would make me sure.

“Fine.” Carl tapped at his phone. “What’s your email address?”

“Katie S loves horses at gmail dot com.”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. “Sent.”

My phone buzzed in my handbag and I pulled it out. Email.
You received a payment from Carl Brooks. Click to accept.
I clicked and there was £1000 waiting for me, just like that. My heart stuttered. I had to work weeks for that kind of cash in my regular jobs. I tried to keep a poker face. “Great. Thank you.”

“That’s just for this weekend,” he said. “If you want to stay, that is.”

Rick’s hand was on my wrist again. “You don’t
have
to stay, Katie. Really. Don’t feel obligated. And if you do, there is a spare room, plenty of spare rooms… we’ve got more spare rooms than you can shake a stick at.”

“I’ll stay,” I said, even though my nerves were skyrocketing. I had an overnight bag in the car, just in case. I looked straight at Carl, begging my heart to still. “Do you want to… shall I, um… now?” I reached around for the zip on my dress, cheeks burning.

The look he shot me was full of shock, and even a little indignation. “No,” he said. “You don’t seem cheap enough to spread your legs the moment the cash comes out, and we’re certainly not cheap enough to take it that way.”

I felt strangely taken aback. “I just thought… sorry…”

His eyes were so hard. “You’re not a prostitute, Katie. I don’t expect you to drop your knickers the minute you walk through the door.”

I shrivelled under his glare, turning into a gawky little girl. “I thought that maybe… sorry, I misunderstood.”

Rick groaned, loud enough to get our attention. “Drinks, please…” he said. “For fuck’s sake, let’s get a fucking beer. Jesus Christ.”

He didn’t even wait for affirmation, just took himself through to the kitchen.

I was pleased to follow him.

The atmosphere changed in the kitchen. The air felt lighter, and the evening sun lit up the room through the huge townhouse windows. Rick pulled out a beer and offered me one, but Carl was already at the wine rack, pulling out a bottle of red and holding it up for my approval.

“A good year,” he said, and uncorked. He poured, and I caught a heady whiff of fruit.

I took my glass and swirled the wine around, took a sniff. “Nice.”

A thousand pounds richer. I couldn’t quite believe it. Real money. In my account. I smiled, and I meant it, and then I drank down a large enough glug of my wine that Carl smirked at me.

Rick hitched himself onto the marble counter, tapping his brogues against the cabinet underneath. “We got off to a weird start,” he said. “We’re really not that bad, I promise. We’re pretty laidback.”

I didn’t quite believe him, but I smiled anyway. “You have a wonderful place.”

“That’s down to Rick,” Carl said. “He’s the designer.”

Rick looked out of the window rather than soak up the praise. “You want anything here, just help yourself. Feel at home. We want you to be comfortable here, don’t we, Carl?”

Carl sighed, eyes heavy as they met mine. “Yes, yes.” He tipped his head towards Rick. “He’s a free spirit,
man
. Rick is all about ambience, and communication, and…” He reached behind him and jabbed at some weird grill like contraption. “…shrivelled up tofu crackers. He’s quite the hippy.”

“Dehydrated,” Rick groaned. “They’re dehydrated.”

“Whereas I’m a little more, direct. I like to be
direct
.”

No shit.
I knocked back some more wine. “What else do you do? For fun?”

“Work,” Carl said. “We work a lot. Work hard. Work smart. Other than that we watch movies, hit the occasional club, hit the occasional tennis court, too. We have a gym in the basement, and a sauna and Jacuzzi. It makes working out a little easier. How about you?”

Wine made me brave enough to show myself. “I ride,” I said. “Horses. Well, one horse. Samson.” I fought back the urge to whip out the gallery app on my phone and bore them with ten thousand pictures. Now really wasn’t the time.

They both nodded, a look passing between them.

“Makes sense,” Carl said. “The horsey type, yes. Very good.”

“You ride?” I asked.

“Oh yes, we ride.” His eyes prickled me. “Just not horses.” He wouldn’t stop staring, and his gaze was hot. I took a step back, propping myself against the kitchen island. “So, tell me about Katie Serena Smith. Fresh out of university, a business degree under your belt. What next?”

I shrugged. “I’m planning on bailing out of the conventional. That’s why I’m here.”

I had both of their attention.

Rick held his beer up. “Conventional is overrated. We don’t conform much in this household.”

“What are you bailing out of?” Carl asked.

I held up my glass. “The boring. The mundane. The status quo. I studied business because I felt I
should
get a conventional degree. Now I want to live for me.” I took a breath. “I want my own yard. Just a small affair, maybe six horses. That would do nicely.” It felt weird to share my ambitions so quickly, and part of me twitched inside, twitching at the potential disapproval.

Carl tapped his fingers against his wine glass, weighing me up. “An eventing yard? Dressage, perhaps?”

I shook my head. “Neither. Just a little riding school. A couple of horses for a couple of kids, it’s been my dream since I was a little girl.”

He didn’t look impressed, and I didn’t expect him to. Rick was more forthcoming. He smiled and nodded, and uttered noises of approval.

“I only have the one horse,” I continued. “But I want that to change, soon. It’s why I’m here.”

“Money to set up a stable?” Rick asked, not even a hint of condescension in his tone. “That’s really cool.”

I nodded. “It costs a fair bit, even for such a small scale.”

Carl pointed a finger in my direction. “You could use your business degree for a few years, build up some real world corporate experience. You could walk into a decent sales or finance training role.”

I stared at him. Mr Mega Corporate. Stared at the hard lines of him, the promise of steely muscle under his shirt. He worked out a lot, you could tell. He wasn’t all hip and lean like Rick. He was solid. Like a bull. An angry bull. The wine was already hitting me, swishing warm in my stomach, and I tried to imagine him fucking me, his face in mine while he pounded me, the grunts of him as his flesh slapped mine. I wasn’t sure whether the thought thrilled or petrified me. Maybe a bit of both.

Definitely a bit of both.

And he’d paid for it in advance. Paid for
me
.

I focused back on the conversation. “I could probably toe the corporate line, yes.”

Carl raised an eyebrow. “But you’re not going to?”

“No. I’m not going to.” I kept my eyes steady. Determined. He wasn’t the only one who had steel.

I breathed in relief as he looked away. “I do admire those who know what they want out of life.”

Rick laughed. “Carl doesn’t tolerate indecision easily.” I filed that away for future reference. He dug in his pocket, pulled out some rolling tobacco. “Going to head out for a smoke,” he said. His eyes sparkled, full of meaning. “Do you?”

I placed my wine on the counter. “I’ll come for some fresh air.”

Carl didn’t move, not even a muscle, and I was glad. He held up his mobile as we made our way outside. “I’ll just check my emails.”

The garden was impressive, like the rest of the pad. A big wooden table with chairs, and two of those chiminea burners. There was a covered area for smoking, the whole place edged with a classy rock garden. It was as swish as the interior. Impressive and imposing. Rick rolled his cigarette as his eyes weighed me up.

“He’s difficult, but he’s really cool when you get to know him.”

I raised my eyebrows. “No, he’s fine.”

Rick smirked, placing his roll up between his lips. “He’s difficult. He knows it, too. He can’t help himself.”

“Really, he’s fine.” I smiled, and hoped I appeared genuine. In reality the guy intimidated the shit out of me, enough to set my nerves alight. A healthy thousand in my bank account made it a lot easier to stay put, but the thought of fucking the guy was enough to bring me out in a cold sweat. Rick on the other hand, Rick I’d do for fun.

His smile was so easy. “I’m glad you came.”

“Thanks, me too.”

“Some don’t,” he admitted. “For some it’s all talk. I hoped you’d show.”

“I’m serious about this,” I said. “The idea suits me.”

“How so?”

I let myself relax in his presence, catching the scent of him on the breeze. “I don’t get much chance for dating. University, two jobs, horse to look after.”

“But university’s over.”

“Just frees me up for more stable time.”

“Priorities, I get it.” He leaned against the wall. “You’re nicer than I hoped. Your smile is cuter.”

“Thanks.” I leaned beside him. “You’re nicer than I hoped. Taller.”

“Seriously, don’t mind Carl,” he said. “He’s really something when you get to know him.”

“I’m sold,” I laughed. “Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

“I really hope so.” He reached for my hand, pulled me into him, until I could smell beer and smoke, and him. “You don’t need to rush, by the way. Neither of us expect anything, not tonight.”

But I did want something. I wanted him. The mess of his hair was perfect, the lean lines of him pleasing to the eye. His tattoos were hot, patterns and hearts and stars over tight muscle. He wet his lips, and I caught sight of chrome. A tongue bar. I wondered how it would feel against my clit, and the thought shocked me. The extent of my attraction to Rick shocked me.

“You said you had piercings, you didn’t say which.”

He poked his tongue out, showing it in its full glory. “Tongue, nipples.” He paused. “Cock.”

Excitement fizzed. “You have your cock pierced?”

He grinned. “You could say that.”

I forced my mind back to Carl. No favouritism, as per the rules. “And Carl, does he?”

He shook his head. “No, he’s a blank canvas, not even a hint of a piercing. How about you?”

“Only my ears.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about Rick’s cock. About the piercings, and the tats, and the glint of chrome in his mouth.

He stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray. “Better go back in.”

I nodded, but took his wrist as he made to pass. “How many times have you done this?”

“Women?” He stared at me. “Five from Sugar Daddy. A few before it.”

Wow!
“None of them worked out?”

“Some.” He looked through the window, checking for Carl. “One we really liked. It’s a long story.” He moved his hand, took my fingers in his. “None of them worked out, no.” He smiled and moved closer, and my breath stopped as his mouth paused just an inch from mine. “I’m pleased they didn’t, though, to be honest.”

“You are?”

His body touched to mine, fingers trailing up my back, and it was scorching. Chemistry. Fucking chemistry.

“I’m really pleased they didn’t,” he said. “Because not one of them made me feel half as excited as you have since you walked through our door.”

I willed him to kiss me, just to feel the warmth of his mouth on mine, just to
see
. Just to
feel
. Just to squash the nerves, and the tension and the excitement. But he didn’t.

“Carl will be waiting,” he said.