Page 12 of Sugar Baby Mine

“Jesus Christ,” Ben mutters, shaking his head. “No, not with me. Alone. I can call you a cab or a Lyft.”

I swallow against everything else that threatens to pour out of me—words, drool,actual vomit. “No.”

“No?” he echoes back, confusion twisting his brows. His gaze flits around my face as I straighten up in my seat.

“I don’t want to leave.”

“But you don’t want to be here?”

“I didn’t say that. I also didn’tsayI was uncomfortable—” Technically, I guess. “You know what they say. When you assume, you make an ass out ofyouandme.”

Helaughs,and it sends a delightful skittering of awareness across my scalp. I want to hear it again. Want to feel it rumble in his chest beneath my fingers. And there’s a whole lot more I want to feel. So much so that my brain begins to run away with images, scenarios, fantasies I’ll desperately try to replay late at night when it’s time to try and fall asleep. The sound of his voice is already ringing in my ears.

“Emme?”

“Yeah?”

He repeats the words lost to my scattered thoughts, “I said you’re gonna give me a run for my money, aren’t you?”

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?”

“I would have thought you’d be more complacent. I like that you aren’t.” He brings a hand up to run through his hair, and his eyes lower to my lips. I nearly bite into them just for him.

“This just tells me that Cora hasn’t told Fred a single thing about me—which,fine—but kind of important in this context.”

“Emme,” Ben starts. I hate the wayI lovehow he says my name. “I’m telling you right now, I like what I’m seeing from you already. I like your spice, I just don’t want to force you into something you don’t want to do.”

I really wish I had some water right now. Where is ourfuckingwaiter—“If it was something I didn’t want to do, I wouldn’t be here.”

He hums under his breath, arms folding over one another as a hand rubs over the scruff of his beard. My attention is drawn to the way the fabric of his jacket stretches tight over his biceps, to the glint of his silver watch, to the curve of his mouth.

“Okay, so now that we’ve established we both want to be here—” He levels me with a look that I feel in my bones. The way his gaze sweeps over me is like a light sprinkling of rain that leaves me damp—All. Over. “Neither of us have done this before. We can work through it together.”

Whether our inexperience will be a good or bad thing remains unclear. It could go either way right now. But I have a feeling that we’re going to create a relationship even more unconventional than Cora was laying out.

“About that—why exactly do you want an arrangement like this? You could have any woman you want. Why feel the need to pay?”

Ben lets loose a breath, his shoulders dropping a little in a shrug. “I’ve tried—”

“Hello,” a chipper voice interrupts. A young man sliding up to our table with a pad and pen in hand, a half apron slung low over his dress pants and pressed white shirt. “My name is Jacob, and I’ll be your server this evening. What can I get you both to drink this evening? Water? Cocktails? Wine?”

Oh,nowhe shows up.

I press my lips together, glancing down at the menu under my hands and then at Ben. He’s watching me, waiting.

“Water with lemon, please.” Even though I’m dying for a cola.

“I’ll have the same,” Ben echoes.

Jacob nods. “Any appetizers for the table? Or do you know what you’d like to order?”

Looking over at Ben, I raise an eyebrow. “Should we get appetizers?”

“Up to you. I could always go for some bruschetta, or they have this fried squash that’s really good.”

“Oh! Yes, the squash blossoms are great.” Jacob nods, pen at the ready, poised over his notebook.

“Why not both?” I shrug, my indecisiveness coming forth right along with the growl of my stomach as I lean back in my seat.

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