Page 9 of Sugar Baby
“Go on then, go fuck your little whore behind the sheds.”
“Who said it won’t be in my bed?”
I stand up and glare down at her. Her eyes are on fire as she turns her gaze upward. Part of me wants to believe she is jealous, but I know that can’t be true. She is cold and unfeeling, and while I get that her life has made her that way, I was trying to break through those walls.
I guess they are as strong as the cage that is built around her. It will take a stronger, more patient man than I to knock them down. This proves that I’m not the alpha for her. She needs someone who will do whatever it takes, not back down when things get complicated. But try as I might, that destructive button deep inside me has been flicked, and I walk away from her, knowing that any minuscule shot I had with her, is walking away with me.
ChapterSeven
Sugar
Dropping my forehead to my drawn-up knees, I groan. “Shite on a stick.”
I really don’t like how that conversation went. Why couldn’t he have just left me alone as I asked him to? Conversing with him makes me flustered, and I panic because I’ve decided that I like sniping at him for some inexplicable reason. I don’t like the come back, though, so call me a hypocrite. The thought of him shagging some willing female now makes my skin crawl. I don’t want him, but I see what’s happening here. I don’t want anyone else to want him, either. I have a territorial stake on him, but only to yell at him, and, perversely, have him order me about like a child. Why do I like that all of a sudden?
“Sophia.”
I turn toward Nico and look up at him. “Time to go in,” he adds.
Sighing, I stand up. “Already?” I grumble, but it’s rhetorical. He wouldn’t be here if there was still time left.
“Your father wants you.”
Frowning up at him, I ask, “Why?”
My stomach churns. Did he just see Cain and me? Am I in trouble? Is he? I didn’t do anything wrong. I was trying to get rid of him because I know how these things end.
He shrugs and looks out over the lake pensively.
Something is definitely wrong. Nico is usually taciturn and fierce except when he’s fucking me. Then he goes all passionate and growly. But his face is drawn and almost ill-looking.
I chew the inside of my lip. “Everything okay?”
“Hmm?” He turns to face me. “Of course. Inside, Sophia. Your father is waiting.”
With nothing left to say, I walk back to the house, aiming for the kitchen where the back door leads out into the grounds.
I hesitate for only a second when I see my dad looming in the doorway. He takes up the whole thing, and now I know shit is about to hit the fan.
I approach with caution.
“Sugar,” he rumbles. “Go and change into something decent and meet me in the living room.”
He turns and leaves without anything else.
“Wait. Why?” If he wants me already in my coffin clothes when he kills me for conversing with Cain, then I want to know now so I can prepare accordingly.
He pauses and looks back with a growl. “Just do it.”
He walks away, leaving me reeling. What is going on?
However much I want to know, I don’t linger. I scamper into the house and to my bedroom, pulling out a pretty pink, ankle-length dress that floats around me and has a modest neckline and thin straps. As far as coffin clothes go, I can live with this. Or be dead with this, rather.
I run a brush through my hair and, barefoot, make my way to the living room. Shoes on corpses freak me out. No, barefoot all the way.
The scent hits me before I enter the room. It’s delicious. It reminds me of watermelon. But not the smell of an actual watermelon, rather the scent that watermelon-flavoured things smell of.
Slowly, I walk into the living room, wondering which alpha this gorgeous scent belongs to. I stop when I see a complete stranger talking to my dad, laughing and joking like they’re old friends.
