Craving Sugar (Sugar Daddy Romance)

Chapter 24

Banging on my apartment door woke me.

Groggy and now grumpy, I looked over at the bedside table and groaned. “Who the hell would be knocking on my door at two-forty in the morning? Asshole better be bleeding or dying.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The force from each blow caused the wooden structure to shake and my walls to protest. It would seem their sole purpose was to wake up my entire building and have me evicted.

Afraid to have a noise complaint drawn against me, I crawled out of bed.

More knocking. Harder.

“Stop it already. I’m up!” I yelled out, before swinging the door open. “What’re you doing here?”

In hindsight, I should’ve paused and thought things through. Having on more than a nightie would have helped the situation. That, and looking through the godforsaken peephole in the door.

“Do you need me to answer that idiotic question?” Hendrix entered my humble apartment and slammed the door with his foot. For his every step forward, I took one back. “Answer me.”

Cat and mouse.

Hunter versus prey.

I was about to be fucked, and I knew that.

“No,” I whispered, afraid to make too much noise and cause him to snap.

He looked disheveled. Tired. Angry as all get the hell out.

The why evaded me, but what mattered was the destruction he would cause in his wake.

“What did I tell you the first night you spent in my home?” left him on a growl, the sound shooting straight down to my womb. My panties dampened, thighs pressed together. “Repeat the words. Let me make sure you understood them.”

“That I would sleep at your place, no excuses.” He reached a hand out, but before he could touch me, I ducked and went around the other side of the couch. “But tonight, was an exception; I needed some quiet time. Too much happening at once, and I was overwhelmed.”

“Don’t give a fuck if the world around us burns to the ground, Beau.” Another step in my direction, and I eyed the door to my room. It was my sole escape from him.

“I’ll break the door down,” he seethed, closer to me now, and I panicked. Made a run for it, but I got no farther than the couch’s armrest when his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me tight against his hard body.

One second, I was standing upright, and the next face down over the edge of the sofa. Ass up, I was exposed and vulnerable.

“Wait. We should talk,” I cried out as his hand fisted my panties and pulled them down with more force than needed. The material stretched, laid tattered at my feet while his cock rubbed along my slit. Spread the visible proof of my desire before slamming balls deep into my pussy.

To the hilt, and then all the way out. “No. No talking, nymph.” Sliding the bulbous head over my puckered hole, he smacked my cheek while letting me feel his weight against my sensitive flesh. “Don’t you remember shutting me out earlier today? How many times I called or sent you a text? Worried fucking sick.” Two more slaps, and heat bloomed across the area he’d hit. “You drove me to this. All your fault.”

“But, Hendrix, I—” The scream got caught in my throat. He bottomed out in one smooth buck of his hips, pace punishing. Didn’t stop pounding into my core—he rode me hard and fast.

Aggressive.

It evoked in me a painful pleasure; I was standing on the precipice of nirvana within a few strokes.

“Feel me, sweetheart,” he spoke into the sensitive skin at the back of my neck, his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses anywhere he could reach. “That’s it…fuck, you feel good. Too good. Might never let you go.”

It was those words that threw me over the edge. My cries were muffled into the fabric of my couch, while his groan above me reverberated throughout every sensitive inch of my body. Hot ropes of come landed on the area no one had explored, another piece of me marked by him.

Weightless, my eyes drooped, and I gave in to exhaustion. The last thing I heard was his hum and something that sounded an awful lot like, “I’ll never accept her walking away. We’ll be fucked in this together.”

XXX

“Want to tell me now why you decided to stay here for the night?”

I jumped, not expecting him to still be here. “Do I have to?”

In the light of day, it seemed pathetic that I reacted the way I did to Gloria’s proposal and the smoothness in which Ivan was accepted into the family.

For a moment there, I felt as if I were a spectator, rather than family.

“Come sit with me, nymph.” Hendrix grabbed my hand in his, while balancing a large cup of coffee with his other. I eyed that cup with longing, even let out a small whimper, which caused him to laugh. “Made it for you, whiny. Wouldn’t dream of having any kind of conversation without caffeine in your system…know better.”

“You’re smarter than you look, grouch.”

He looked back at me from over his shoulder, hazel eyes narrowed. “What’s with the nickname all of a sudden?”

“If the shoe fits…hey!” I yelled out, suddenly airborne before being settled on his lap, my head tucked under his chin. “I’m going to sue you for all the manhandling and rough treatment. My pussy aches because of you.”

“Good.” Strong hands wandered across my body, fingers exploring the tender flesh beneath his shirt which I’d pilfered the last time I took care of Aubrey. Slept in it. “Not that I mind, but when did you steal my shirt?” His tone held amusement, so I knew he wasn’t mad.

“Plead the fifth.”

“Bet I could make you talk…” One long finger slid through my folds, paused just outside my entrance. “Would be so easy, Beau. Want to play that game?”

“No,” I said in a needy whimper, and he chuckled against the top of my head. Immediately, his hand slipped from beneath my shirt and settled on my thigh, holding firm. “Then tell me what the hell is wrong with you? What upset you so much that you decided to sleep here last night?”

“Ivan proposed to my sister, and it threw me off.” Blurting it out seemed like the best way to handle it. Maybe he’d question me less.

“That’s it?” The disbelief in his tone caused me to look up and glare. “Nymph, that sounds like a bullshit excuse, and you know it. Give me more than that…the truth this time.”

Pushing myself up from his lap, I paced the space of my living room. Tried to get my mind and answer in sync. There was no way in hell I’d ever tell him what I felt for him.

Emotions that were throwing me off my game—kept me from seeing this crazy, intense thing between us as anything other than a business transaction.

Hendrix didn’t care for me.

As a human being? Maybe, but not like I needed him to.

“Look, Parker.” I ignored how his pupils dilated and nostrils flared when I called him that. “It was a long day and overpacked with surprises. Feeling overwhelmed is not something far-fetched.”

“Weddings are a happy occasion to most.” Didn’t miss how he phrased that. Did he not care for the institution of marriage? Had he been married and burned?

That photo album and the picture of a happy couple spun through my mind, a nonstop reel of reminders that he had loved before. The way he watched her while she smiled at the camera was not the look of a man taking a picture with family.

Love. Honest to God love had come through those photos loud and clear.

“Look, I don’t want to argue or get into a heated discussion over the sanctity of marriage. That’s not what bothered me. Not at all. I’m happy for Gloria—”

“But…” he interrupted, waving his hand in the air as if telling me to get on with it.

“But, I’m tired of being an afterthought or an always dependable accessory. And before you interrupt…” he laughed at my mock glare and hand on my hip “…I have my reasons for thinking so. Everyone makes decisions that impact me—take away my choices—and I am expected to just keep trucking along.” My heart raced, pulse pounding in my veins. This morning it’d hit me, and talking to Hendrix now was forcing those emotions to resurface. “Want to know what my first thought after she said yes was?”

“Tell me.” He stood then and walked over to me, pulling my small body against his, arms wrapped tightly around my midsection. “Let me help you.”

“My first thought was: who’s going to help her plan this wedding.” Didn’t realize I was crying until a tear rolled down my cheek and onto the corner of my lip. “On whose shoulders would this fall on? And, Hendrix…time and time again, it comes back to me. Everyone expects me to solve every single problem in their life without giving a crap about how I’m affected in the process.”

Tipping my chin, he brought my eyes up to his. “Say no. That your job won’t allow for you to be at their disposal. Blame it all on your demanding boss.”

Moments like these, when he said or acted like he cared, confused me, blurred the lines I was fighting to stay on the right side of.

“Not that simple. Marriage is—”

“Over-fucking-rated. Do it once, and the appeal is…” Hendrix interrupted, but then clammed up. He’d said more than he wanted to.

All women have a way of connecting the dots—of putting the trail of clues together until there was a concise picture in front of us. We are detectives. Ruthless. Cunning.

And right now, my oh shit detector had gone off. Blaring red signals across my processors.

“Personal opinion, or just a general observation? Remember, you owe me a question a day. Honest answers.”

Hendrix stepped back from me, turned around, and gazed out ahead. “I’m done.”

“Is this about the picture in your office?” His entire body tensed, hands clenching into tight fists. “Because I already saw—”

“I’m going to need you to back off, Beau. Remember the contract; mind your own business. No more questions.” The finality in his tone made me relent, for now.

This conversation wasn’t done by a long shot. After the gala, we’d talk and I’d get the answers I needed.

Would decide if I should lay my heart on the line or walk away with my pride intact.

Either way, my jealousy would be justified or laid to rest.

Hate that I love you.