Page 73 of Sugar Baby Mine

|Have fun.

Sliding into my heels, I sling my purse over my shoulder with his credit card zipped safely inside. I already know where I’m going as I set the GPS on my phone: a local lingerie store that stocks several Italian-made brands. A little far, but worth it. If I stop at another store along the way and Ben notices two charges on his card instead of one, well, sue me. He didn’t sayhow muchI could spend.

It’s a miracle I made it back to the hotel before Ben at all. After lots of walking—which, why did I wear the freakingheelsout—two water taxis, and an inordinate amount of time spent choosing a set of lingerie, I’m finally ready.

Considering the fact that I really couldn’t make up my mind, maybe it’s a shame the set is so practical. No excessive straps, no frills, no bows. Just a simple set made of Leavers Lace from La Perla—a bralette with a matching cheeky thong in a dusty silver that edges toward blue. But it feels good on my body when I run my fingers over the fabric laying against my skin.

And the new heels help. Black velvet Prada platform sandals. They might have cost more than the other pair he bought me. They make my legs look so fucking long.

Checking the time on my phone, I put the bags away and lay back on the bed. I’m already looking forward to the dinner Ben promised us for when he’s back, as long as we don’t get carried away here.

Another ten minutes or so pass while I’m scrolling on my phone and staving off a nap before I hear the card swipe on the door unlocking. I lay my phone on the bedside table and relax against the bed, raised up on my elbows and legs pulled together.

“You really weren’t kidding.”

“I was committed,” I reply to him, watching as Ben lets the door click shut, leaning against the dark wood behind him.

He stays there for a moment, gaze roaming over me, but he decides soon enough that he’s much too far away. The way he crosses the room in a rush, his hands peeling his suit jacket off and tossing it to thefloor, have my jaw dropping open even as he’s kicking his shoes and socks off in record speed.

“Ben?”

“What?” he asks, lifting a knee with the bed dipping underneath his weight. But he doesn’t move any further, not yet. Though his gaze is dark, hungry, as it moves unhurried over my body, from my face all the way down to the heels on my feet.

“You threw your jacket on thefloor.”

“It’s fine, it’s dirty anyway.”

The fact that I’ve never heard him say that before. His normal clothes, yes, but usually he takes more care with his business wear.

Ben circles his hand around one of my ankles, separating my legs and lifting my foot into the air. He runs his fingers along the velvet fabric just above my toes, and it makes my skin tingle as if he’s touched me.

“We didn’t discuss shoes.”

“Maybe I had these already.”

He gives me a look, one that has my resolve threatening to crumble already. He’s so good at seeing through all my lies. Or maybe he’s just more versed in women’s shoes than he should be.

“Fine, I bought these, too. This lingerie wasn’tthatexpensive.I needed something else.” Something that cost more than my weekly payment altogether. Twice over.

“I like them,” he says simply. But then moves his fingers underneath the strap at my ankle before unbuckling the fastening. “But they’ve got to go for now. Wear them to dinner with your black dress.”

I was planning on it. But the words don’t make it up my throat before his fingers are running up the instep of my foot as he drops the heel to the floor. It makes a loud clacking, but the blood pounding in my ears is louder as he brings my foot higher to press his lips to the thin skin of the inside of my ankle. He repeats the process on the other side, and I’m already burning up for him from that alone.

“You look divine in this color.”

Ben lets my legs back down against the bed before stepping back, beginning to unbutton the white button-down he’s wearing. His attention never strays from me, though it feels like time is moving in slow motion. Each breath pulls from my chest in ragged form as he reveals more of his tanned skin, the trail of hair disappearing beneath the waist of his pants. He doesn’t remove his shirt completely though, just lets it flow unbuttoned.

“Do you like the way it feels on your skin?”

“What?” I ask in a daze.

“Do you like the way the lace feels on your skin?”

“Oh,” I say, bringing my hands up to let my fingers skim over my breasts, enjoying the way his gaze focuses in on that. “Yes, it’s so soft, it’s almost silky.”

“Good, because I’m going to rub this little cunt through your new panties until you come.”

My knees move to press together reflexively, thighs wanting to garner some friction, but his palm stops them from closing, instead pulling my legs wide apart with both of his hands. He kneels further onto the bed, moving up so he has one thighpressing between my legs.

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