My Accidental Sugar Daddy Read online

  Sure enough, it’s the handsome man, and my heart melts as he strides in. He’s gorgeous in a dark coat that sets off his blue eyes, and his shoulders are as broad as ever.

  “Hey,” I say as Tate comes inside. He grins, and without even taking off his jacket, sweeps me into his arms and kisses me. My eyes flutter closed and I relax into his embrace, letting myself be entirely possessed by his touch.

  After a long moment, he pulls just far enough away to aim that all-too-familiar smirk at me. “Miss me much?” he says.

  I swat him on the arm. “Don’t get too cocky,” I giggle. Then, I turn away so that he doesn’t see the color rise to my cheeks, or feel my heart suddenly thumping away in my chest. My conversation with Rachel echoes in my head. Could this actually be turning into something more than a “mutually beneficial” relationship?

  Tate laughs as he sees my glass of wine on the table. “Is this what you’re doing when I’m not home all day? A bit of day drinking?”

  “Definitely not,” I retort with a smile. “I was just feeling a little anxious and wanted to calm down.”

  He aims a questioning glance at me. “Anxious about what, sweetheart?”

  I shrug, doing my best to look nonchalant. “Nothing in particular,” I say, trying to quickly come up with an excuse. “I think I’m just nervous about the status of the shelter on East Sixth Street. With winter coming up, they’ll really need coats, gloves and hats, especially for the kids.”

  Tate pours himself a glass of wine, and says casually, “Then I’ll donate ten thousand dollars for supplies and anything else you want. Do you think that will help?”

  I stare at him. “Um yes. That will help.”

  But I continue to stare at him with wonder. I’m not a charitable man, Tate said to me once, but obviously, that’s not true at all. Could it be that I’ve changed his mind? Could it be that he cares, really cares, about what’s important to me?

  “Thank you,” I say quietly. “The children and adults will appreciate it.”

  He turns and drops a kiss on my shoulder. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

  We stare at each other for a moment, and it’s incredibly intimate. My heart pounds in my chest. Could he be feeling what I’m feeling?

  But then the moment ends, and Tate takes a sip of my wine. “We closed a huge deal today, so I called it quits early. I could use some celebratory TLC. If you’re game, that is.”

  I giggle and toss my hair flirtatiously. “I think I can help with that.”

  “I know you can,” he growls, looking at me hungrily. Then, he shakes his head and says, “Actually, I had an idea for us today.”

  I pause, surprised. Usually, nothing can stop the alpha male when he wants to sample my curves, so this is new.

  “Oh?”

  “Have you been to the pool yet?” he asks.

  I blink. “There’s a pool?”

  Tate laughs. “You haven’t explored the basement yet, have you?”

  “There’s a pool in the basement? Of this townhouse?”

  He takes me by the shoulders, turns me around, and ushers me gently toward the stairs. “Go get changed. We bought you a swimsuit at that boutique last week, right? It’s perfect because now, you’re getting wet, baby girl.”

  With a giggle, I prance off while wiggling my hips. This man really is my Prince Charming because Tate Connor is gorgeous, generous, and always full of surprises.

  7

  Tate

  * * *

  I’m a sucker for a woman in a tiny bikini. After all, there’s something about swimsuits that can be even more erotic than high-quality lingerie. Maybe it’s the fact that that bikinis are designed to be worn in a public setting, or that the fabric gets wet and clingy. Or maybe it’s the fact that it’s Laurie in the bikini because when she comes downstairs in her all-white ensemble, my jaw drops to the ground and I immediately begin to stiffen.

  I’ve seen her nude and lush plenty of times now, seeing that she sleeps in my bed. But the white of the bikini highlights the creaminess of her skin and makes her long blonde hair look almost silver, cascading over one elegant shoulder. Plus, my girl is tall and slender and walks like she’s on a runway, confidently and unapologetically. But one part of her is definitely very un-model-like, and that’s her breasts. My woman has huge, luscious Double Ds, and I often fall asleep with my head nestled between those soft pillows of goodness.

  Goddamn, I think to myself. The redhead of a few months ago is barely even a memory at this point. In fact, all the women in my past are becoming blurry, almost as if they never existed. Instead, my mind, my home, and my bed are only full of Laurie.

  I warned her at the beginning of our arrangement to not develop feelings, but it seems like I’m the one in danger now. Who knew? I’m not a heartless man, of course. I’ve had plenty of no-strings-attached flings before that have developed into warm friendships full of affection and mutual trust. I’ve even been in love a time or two, although compared with Laurie, those were just expressions of youthful infatuation. But now? I don’t even know what to think.

  On the surface, we would be a good match. She’s beautiful, charming, funny, and intelligent. She’s knowledgeable about a great deal of subjects and holds her own in a conversation, instead of floundering like a dead fish like some other women I’ve known. Even more, Laurie is compassionate with a good heart, and still goes back to the park to check on her friends who congregate there, even though she could have easily forgotten about them. Everything about her is perfect, full stop.

  But do I really know anything about Laurie?

  As we’ve gotten closer, she’s revealed some snippets of her life. I know that she had an asshole of a father and a saint of a mother, and that she had an older brother who passed away at some point. I know that she had a “okay” childhood and went to art school as a young adult. She also had a pet dog named Sammy as a kid, and her favorite color is burgundy. I also know that she loves helping the homeless, and eats an entire pack of Oreos in one sitting if given the chance.

  Besides that, though, I know very little. That’s partially my own fault, as I haven’t pried. Sure, she told me her last name was “Parker” but I resisted googling her. After all, there are probably hundreds of Laurie Parkers in New York alone, and besides, most homeless people barely have a digital presence. A Google search probably wouldn’t reveal anything.

  Besides, we all have skeletons in our closets. Maybe I’ll find out that she’s been staying in homeless shelters since she was a child. Maybe she’s kited checks in the past or scammed the system for food stamps. But I’m going to wait for her to tell me these things because that’s how it has to be between a couple. I can’t exactly turn her upside down and see what drops out of her pockets.

  The problem is that I want to know more about Laurie. Her favorite food. The type of music she likes most. Who her childhood friends were. Her hopes, her dreams, her expectations, and her fears. I want to know more about her family, and to crack the shell to reveal the pearl within. She’s wonderful, and I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to hide in front of me. Not me, ever.

  Most importantly, I want to know how she ended up on the streets. I know it’s a rude question, and I’m never going to ask it, or even try to charm it out of her. It would be overly dramatic to say that it haunts me, but it does certainly occupy a good percentage of my thoughts because what could have driven such a gorgeous, giving girl to life in the shelters? On some level, I know it has to be something really bad. A drug habit? A criminal record? But on another level, I’m just too proud to ask. I need this woman to come to me of her own free will, and I’m not going to drag it out of her, as much as I’d like to. Until then, I’m keeping my mouth shut on the subject, and silently waiting for her to open up.

  “What do you think?” her voice interrupts.

  Giggling, the woman of my dreams performs a little twirl in her bikini. I respond by grabbing her and pulling her close. I kiss her on the cheek, nibble
on her neck, keeping her pressed up against me as she squirms and giggles in mock horror. God, her body feels so damn good against mine. I feel myself growing hard, and she does, too.

  “Getting a little excited?” she murmurs into my ear.

  “Yes, and it’s all because of you,” I reply. Then, I push that lush body away and take her hand. “But this isn’t the time for distractions,” I say with a grin. “Come on, I’ll show you to the basement.”

  “Ooooh, the basement,” she giggles. “Is that where you lock me up and keep me prisoner?”

  I growl, hot daggers shooting from my eyes.

  “Are you into that, sweetheart? Because I’d be happy to oblige if you are.”

  She merely laughs and swats my arm again as I take her down a flight of stairs behind the kitchen. Then, we enter a darkened hallway before coming upon a clear glass door.

  “Ohhh,” she breathes, eyes wide while looking in. “It’s gorgeous.”

  It is indeed. I have a full-size pool in the lower level of my townhouse, and I spared no expense when we put it in. The water glimmers a clear aquamarine, and tiles of gold mosaic glint from the bottom of the pool. The deck is pristine white concrete, with a few potted palms and padded lounge chairs scattered about. We enter, and the air is humid and warm.

  “Wow,” Laurie breathes while setting her towel down on a chair. “Are you going swim while I splash around in the shallow end?” she laughs. “I think I mentioned I can’t do much more than a doggie paddle.”

  I shake my head and take the gorgeous woman’s hand, leading her to the steps going into the water. “Not today, honey. I’m teaching you how to swim.”

  To my surprise, though, she stiffens. “Oh,” she says, her voice quiet.

  I aim a questioning look at her.

  “Something wrong?” I ask. “Don’t be intimidated by the water, honey. I won’t let you drown.”

  “Um,” she says, not meeting my gaze. “It’s just that I’m kind of scared.”

  I chuckle deeply.

  “Of course you’re scared. Everyone is the first time. But we’ll go slow, and we don’t have to leave the shallow end until you’re ready. Okay?”

  She stares at the smooth ripples, her brow furrowed in consideration. Then, she takes a deep breath and nods.

  “Okay,” is her murmur.

  I grin.

  “Alright, then,” I say. “Lesson number one: treading water.”

  Even though Laurie starts off shy, she’s a fast learner. Soon, she’s clinging to the edge and kicking her feet in the water, laughing as she splashes me. I feel like a kid again, re-living endless summer days at the lake. In fact, things are going great, except that there’s one lesson Laurie is completely unwilling to learn: putting her head below the water line.

  “Come on,” I gently urge. “It’s not that bad. And I promise your hair will still look good wet.”

  She makes a face at me. “It’s not that,” she says. “You know that.”

  “Then what is it?” I dunk my head under the water, holding my breath for a few seconds, before I pop back up. “See? Easy. And we’re still in the shallow end.”

  But Laurie merely shakes her head, her eyes unfocused, staring at a point just over my shoulder. Then, I notice that she’s trembling ever so slightly before a sob rips from her throat. She claps her hand over her mouth, big blue eyes welling up with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she croaks, and starts to clamber out of the pool.

  “Hey, hey,” I say, following before grabbing her hand. The beautiful blonde begins crying in earnest, and I pull her toward me until she’s shuddering in my arms. I stroke her hair and shush her for a few minutes, kissing the top of her head tenderly, and then she pulls away, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

  “I’m sorry,” she sniffs. “I’m really embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” I say. “I’ve done a lot more embarrassing things in a pool than cry, believe me.” That makes her smile a little, and I return it with a grin of my own, despite being truly baffled. Is swimming really that terrifying to her?

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Laurie lowers her gaze and turns partially away from me. “My mom died in a boating accident,” she murmurs. “About a year ago. It was horrible. I wasn’t there, but of course I heard all about it. Everyone kept calling it a ‘shocking tragedy.’”

  Shit. I should have known there was something deeper to these swim lessons than just being intimidated by the deep end. I reach for her hand, and she lets me take it, but her grip is loose, as if she doesn’t have the energy to hold tighter.

  “I’m sorry,” I growl, and mean it. “That’s fucking awful. I’m so sorry that that happened to you. I knew your mom passed away, but didn’t know how tragic the circumstances were.”

  “It’s okay because I didn’t tell you,” she says, wearily passing a hand over those lovely features. “I seem to keep a lot of secrets from you.”

  “You have every right to your secrets,” I assure her. “Everyone does.”

  But Laurie merely shakes her head, not meeting my eyes.

  “But I …,” she begins. Then, she faces me again, and tears glitter in her eyes anew. “I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore, Tate.”

  I can’t help but let out a low chuckle. “I don’t hear that very often. But if you insist.” I tuck a strand of silvery hair behind her ear, then let my hand linger on the side of her face, and she nuzzles into my cupped palm, as if for comfort. My thumb wipes away the last remnant of a tear on her cheek as I take a deep breath and gaze into her blue eyes. “Besides, I don’t want to keep things from you either, sweetheart. I want to be fully there for you, and fully present.” I take another deep breath, preparing myself to say something I haven’t uttered for a long time. “I want you to know that I’ll always take care of you. You’ll never live on the street again.”

  Laurie’s lips part and her eyes widen. “Really?” she whispers.

  I nod. “Yeah. Yes. Absolutely. You’re incredible, sweetheart,” I growl, my heart in my throat. “I’m lucky to have met you, and even luckier that you agreed to be part of my life. I’m not always the most affectionate guy around, but I want you to know how important you are to me. I want you to feel like you can rely on me, and this is my vow.”

  Laurie shakes her head slowly, looking a bit confused.

  “But I thought you said this wasn’t going to develop into anything beyond a mutually beneficial arrangement. You know, I’d have a place to stay, and in return, you’d have someone to warm your bed.”

  I shake my head ruefully.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought at first too, but I guess things change. Trust me, no one is more surprised about this development than I am, sweetheart.”

  Her laughter tinkles in the air, and that beautiful smile makes me feel like I’m being warmed by the sun. In that moment, deep in my heart, I know I’ve done the right thing. Unable to resist any longer, I lean forward and kiss Laurie, and her lips immediately part beneath mine, admitting me to her sweetness. Laurie twines her arms around my neck as I run my fingers through her silky hair. Her mouth still tastes a little like wine, and I want more.

  When I begin to massage her breast with my hand, she moans a little into my mouth. She has the most exquisite tits and their large size always gets me going. With a hungry smile, I slide the fabric of her bikini top aside and lower my mouth to one of her pale pink nipples. They’re stiff already, and her moans only encourage me to suck harder, my other hand slipping down to her waist.

  “Tate,” Laurie whispers, and the sound of my name on her tongue makes me grow even harder. She moves her hand to the evidence of my arousal, grasping it through my swim trunks, and I groan in pleasure. She always knows exactly what to do and squeezes tightly as my balls begin to raise.

  Then, I position her so that she’s lying back on the lounge chair and move between her thighs while pushing her knees up. God, she looks so gorgeous like this, her curves ripe and lusc
ious, that twat already steaming through the fabric. Without breaking eye contact, I slowly move the material of her bikini bottom to the side, exposing the pink flower of her pussy. I lick my lips, anticipating the sweet-and-salty flavor of her nectar on my tongue. Unwilling to wait any longer, I lean forward and plant a languorous kiss right in the center of her mound and sure enough, her back stiffens as she lets out a little wail.

  “Ohhhh Tate!”

  Perfect. She’s perfect. I run my tongue along her slit, licking up that pink wetness, and then take her lower lips into my mouth, sucking on them gently. As she tangles her fingers into my hair, moaning in approval, I move to her clit, licking it slowly at first, then faster and faster before sucking on it full force. She swirls her hips, grinding herself against my mouth as her breath begins to quicken.

  But I need more. My cock’s dying for attention and so I lower her knees until they’re flat, and then swivel around so that we’re in a dirty sixty-nine position. Laurie knows what to do immediately. She frees my shaft from my swim trunks and immediately begins sucking on the hard rod, her cheeks bulging with my length.

  “Fuck,” I groan, my eyes closing for a moment. “That feels so good.”

  Her muffled sucking sounds are my only reply, and with renewed vigor, I begin to lick her clit again. The hard nub is stiff with need, and I the flow of her juices gets thicker and creamier as we taste one another.

  “Mmm,” she moans while going to town, swirling her tongue around my girth. The veins in my shaft are beginning to pulse from the dirty play, and this time, I plunge my tongue into her creaminess, giving my woman the penetration she deserves. “Ohhh!” she screams in response. “Mmmm!”

  That’s when things go haywire. Hot female nectar fills my mouth as she jerks beneath me, her pussy convulsing with pleasure. Her mouth tightens of its own accord, and the increased suction is too much. I burst between her lips, filling her mouth with thick seed as I climax.