Page 17 of Sugar Daddies

I deserved to be scowled at; I brought it upon myself for being clingy.

“What’s going on?” He lowers his volume down to a whisper as he caresses my cheek.

Leaning into his palm, I keep my mouth shut to stop being dramatic and making the situation worse. I can’t help that I just woke up clingy and the fact that we were supposed to spend time together today made up my expectations higher, but he has to work, so it’s about time that I compromise.

I had last night with him; it makes it a little better.

“Are you feeling needy?”

My big eyes water with the bottom of my lip trembling to hold back the frustrated tears. Without Daddy’s discipline, I would be a crybaby even to this day, and I’d die of humiliation for being so weak.

I’m still weak, and it’s a miracle that Daddy puts up with me.

“I want Daddy,” I whimper as I push my face to his chest. The steady heartbeat rocks against the side of my forehead.

“I know you do,” he murmurs on the top of my head as he strokes my hair from the back. “I am going to take care of this business as fast as I can, and when I come back, we’ll spend time together.”

My throat drags out a noise.

“Daddy has never lied to you before,” he comments.

“You did. You said you’d spend time with me today and you lied.” I thump my forehead on the hard surface of his chest, and I ultimately hurt my own forehead because his chest was just that hard.

What does this man do in his workout that turned his body into steel?

“No,” Daddy corrects with a small kiss on my hair, “I said I would spend time with you today. I never specifiedwhen.”

“Daddy!” I grumpily throw my arms around his waist.

He reaches down and pats my butt softly. The flesh jiggles as I huff grouchily in his shirt and I hope he can feel my dismay in that breath. Daddy isn’t supposed to be mean this early in the morning. He has to give me some time to adjust to being awake to be used to the usual grumpiness of him.

“You are my good girl, aren’t you?”

Daddy is playing with my heart, and the curl of my toes into the wooden flooring reminds me that I have to keep up the charade. I remember that I have to be mad at him for breaking his promise. It’s still unclear as to where he broke it, but in my head, he did it, and I’m punishing him for being a bad man.

“You’ve been so good lately, little girl,” he praises, and he’s got me wrapped around his fingers.

He knows what to say to get me putty in his hands, and I’m a sore loser that falls for it every time. At least he’s paying attention to me; it’s sad that I have to turn to being a brat to get his eyes on me.

“Daddy wants to reward you for being good,” he purrs softly.

I look up and stand on my toes to peck his lips. I give him more chaste kisses and finish with one long kiss that rushes blood to my lips.

“It’s okay, Daddy. I was bratty.”

“You admit your faults,” Daddy nods approvingly.

Even though it’s kind of negative, I can’t help but feel my chest puff up at the proudness in his eyes. It’s kind of odd to feel pleased about something that isn’t essentially good in different aspects, but anything is better than lying.

“Put this back on,” he holds up the tie, and the wash of memories come back to why we were in this complex position.

Tying a tie is easy. I have been helping and learning from Daddy on how to do it. I take the silk fabric to loop it around his neck, tucking it here and there while smoothing down the creases that I made.

I silent beam an apology to the tie in my head and hope it forgives me for treating it roughly. Fine materials should be treated with priority care, and I am a Neanderthal for wanting to rip it apart.

I run a hand down the tie, and the ridges of Daddy’s muscles can be felt through my hand. I finger the triangle tip with my fingers as I’m not ready to let it go.

If I let the tie go, then it feels like a final goodbye to Daddy, and he’s going to leave until who knows how long. He is the boss of the company, so his schedule is not a regular nine-to-five job; he has to oversee many things and work overtime if needed.

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