Page 82 of Needing Your Love
A throat cleared, and we both turned.
Kurt Wallace.
My hackles raised, and Sutton stiffened slightly beside me.
“Kurt,” Sutton greeted him, tone wary.
Like Gram had said, Kurt appeared gaunt, his posture saggy. Purple bruise-like smudges sat beneath his eyes.
He nodded at both of us before glancing around uneasily. “I, uh…wanted to apologize for the other day.”
The cramp in my stomach eased, shoulders lowering as hope sprang to life inside me. I was dying to spend time with DJ again and wished Kurt would allow me to do so.
“I’d been drinking.” Kurt made the excuse I expected, checking out our clasped hands. His brow indented for a split second but immediately smoothed out. “Didn’t, uh, mean those words I used. Hard liquor makes me a different man.” A too-quick smile flitted over his lips before a small huff left him, sounding like a depreciating laugh.
Neither Sutton nor I spoke as he continued to avoid our gazes.
“Trying real hard to stay sober,” he continued, shifting on his feet and moving the basket he held from one hand to the other. He scratched the back of his neck while staring at the floor. “Mom said you’re a good friend to DJ, Jimmy. He doesn’t have many of those.”
“He’s a sweet kid,” I stated quietly. “Deserves the world.”
Kurt nodded and glanced up at me but quickly looked away again, shoulders up near his ears. “Sure does. Now more than ever. You, um…can hang out with him over at my mom’s whenever you want. He really misses you.”
The tension in my chest eased, my throat tightening. “Thank you, Kurt.”
He turned to go.
“You need anything, you let me know,” Sutton stated, his tone firm. Commanding.
Kurt paused to nod. “I will, Chief.” He half-waved over his shoulder before shuffling away.
Sutton watched after him, eyes narrowed, a deep furrow between his brows—being his usual suspicious self.
“That was…unexpected,” I said.
“Mmm,” he hummed an agreement and nodded toward the front of the store. “Ready to head home?”
Home.
My feet barely felt the tiled floor. “Yes.”
We snuggled on the couch after dinner, Sutton propped in the corner with me sprawled between his spread legs. His arms wrapped around my core, keeping me tight against his chest, a lone fingertip absently rubbing along my stomach where my shirt had ridden up. Food Network played on the TV, theChoppedshow Sutton got a kick out of watching. I enjoyed just sitting against him and soaking up his attention that held no intention of fucking, the TV nothing but noise in the background.
Affection from Sutton was life-giving. Affirming. I could stay right there without issue, but I could admit to feelingtoomuchlike a pillow princess. While I wouldn’t turn away a sugar daddy of love since I had plenty of money for the time being, a sense of purposelessness had begun to creep into my mind some of the longer days while waiting for him to return.
“I should get a job,” I said to see what Sutton would think.
His finger on my stomach stilled for a second before starting up again. “I’ll admit, I haven’t thought about your financial situation.”
We hadn’t discussed my bank account—one of the few, if not only, topics left uncovered in our lazy days together.
“I’ve got a lot of money in the bank, but when you’re not around, I’m bored.”
He reached for the clicker and muted the TV. “What would you like to do?”
I shrugged. “All I know is sex work, but that’s no longer an option since I quit Elite. Not that I was thinking of going back to it,” I hastened to add in case he assumed I was missing variety of the dick sort. His was perfect, and I didn’t want any other shaft to suck or fuck for the rest of my life.
Sutton didn’t say anything, and my brain went straight into negative mode. Shifting slightly, I wondered if he thought about the guys who had access to me before he did. Twice, he’d had to reassure me he didn’t care about my sexual history, but I didn’t understand the lack of jealousy.
