Read Online Sugar Daddy by Rie Warren - Free Book Online

canopied the king sized bed, adding to the libidinous tropical feel.
    Hot.
    Passionate.
    He folded his arms and leaned against the dresser, a scandalous glint in his eyes.
    I tested the mattress, bouncing twice.
    When I lay back, I understood the reason for the gauzy canopy; it hid the mirror, set into his ceiling.
    Holy Hell.
    At his pregnant silence, I said, “Well, it’s big.”
    He sniggered at my innuendo. “You don’t say?” He cocked his leg, drawing my gaze right to the big thing we weren’t discussing.
    My pulse roaring, I licked my lips.
    He let out a long breath. “My bathroom’s through there.” He gestured to a final door. “Meet me on the balcony when you’re ready.”
    Even though I got lost at a turn or two, I made it outside before him.
    I lit a cigarette, joining my smoke to the bottom-heavy clouds sketching the skies at sundown. A jag of lightning, then three more, leant a ghostly backdrop to the steeples that made Charleston the Holy City of the South across the harbor.
    A French picnic–cheeses, fruit, charcuterie, a chilled bottle in a leggy bucket–was spread between two chaises pulled together, heaped with pillows and velvety throws.
    Romance. Seduction.
    Just like he’d promised.
    I stubbed out the cig, finished my bourbon, and bobbed a finger of cheese into my mouth. I groaned at the texture, the flavor. Oh my God...could cheese cause orgasms? For sure this was no Cheez Whiz. I brought the platter to my lap and nibbled away. My nerves eating away at me.
    I was lost inside myself when Reardon joined me in jeans and nothing else. Every muscle in his arms and upper body distinct. The curlicues of hair on his chest pointing to his trim waist. The ducktails on his neck damply curling, he’d come wet from a redneck rinse-off.
    He traced my cheek to the corner of my mouth, then retreated to a lounge chair, adhering to the invisible barrier set by my protective posture. “You’re too far away, Shay.”
    Moving forward, I settled between his bent knees.
    A deep sigh lifted my chest.
    Comfort.
    Human touch.
    He wrapped his arms around my waist. “That’s not what I meant.” He lifted my hair to suckle my nape. Chills scattering all over my body, I wiggled closer. I heard him through the pounding of my heart. “Though this is nice. Is it okay?”
    Resting against him, I nodded.
    “What were you thinking about?”
    I whispered, “My husband. But I wouldn’t want to bore you.”
    “I highly doubt anything you said could bore me, but I don’t want to hear about you and him . ”
    “Help me forget?”
    We traded innocent anecdotes along with bites of food and sips from glasses until I was a bit tipsy, a lot happier. Bright stars studded the black sky when I turned in his arms, bracing myself on his thighs. “I have to go home.”
    “Time’s up?”
    “It wouldn’t do to be late. He–”
    “Tell me he doesn’t hurt you.”
    “Not like that. He won’t even touch me.”
    “More fool him.” Reardon held me against him, making damn sure I knew how much he liked touching me.
    “You think?”
    He sat me back. His fingers circled dangerously close to my nipples; my nipples were dangerously close to begging for more.
    “You…” His lips met mine, a tantalizing brush.
    “Me?”
    His tongue slid to the bow of my lip, then he sucked my bottom lip between his. “Should never…”
    “Ever?” I circled my hips to his grunt and thrust.
    “Never be left wanting . ” He took my mouth in a deep kiss, sinfully mating our lips and tongues.
    “Uhh,”I cried, and he captured it, twisting his head and sealing our mouths with a slick chase of his tongue after mine.
    We strived against each other, grabbing, kissing, nipping. When he lapped a path along my neck, I rubbed my lips against the softness of his earlobe. “You want me.”
    “Yes.”
    I undulated on top of him, riding the hard cliff of his cock. I reached below, brushing my fingertips up his length.
    “Fuck, Shay.” He stilled