Page 58 of Sugar Baby

“Derek?” I call out to him.

He pulls on his briefs, then glances at me.

“Three yeses.”

He just nods.

My head snaps around when a very timid, almost sad voice enters into the conversation. “Daddy?”

I take a deep breath. Here we go.

Chapter 24

Emery

My eyelids are weighed down by one hundred metric tons of . . . something.

It hurts to think.

Well, not hurts, exactly, but thoughts are hard.

Like my brain is floating through a pink cotton candy sky as it chases between thoughts, trying to string some sort ofcoherence together. But every time I manage to catch a thought, it disintegrates into pink glitter.

The murmuring around me isn’t in focus and sounds more like a hum, blocked out by the cotton candy clouds.

Thinking of hurting—internally, I snicker at myself, because an actual snicker is too much energy—my whole body hurts like I’ve done ten rounds with my last fucker of a foster father.

No, wait.

I press my thighs together, and a deep-seated ache throbs in my pussy and upper thighs. He never caused that kind of pain. Just a broken arm and a messed-up face.

The warm pillow I’m lying on rumbles, and I can clearly make out its words.

“I agree with Darcy.”

I frown. Why is my pillow agreeing with Darcy? And who is Darcy, anyway? DoIknow a Darcy?

My arms feel heavy as I try to maneuver them beneath me so that I can push myself up, but they don’t want to cooperate.

Two bands of steel tighten around my middle, restricting my motions.

Another memory of being restrained by satin ribbons flashes into my mind, and everything comes back to me.

Four men. Daddies. Sex, so much sex.

Holy fuck. I did it.

I really fucking did it.

I’m ten thousand dollars richer.

Ten thousand motherfucking dollars.

It’s over.

Done.

They are done.

---