Page 5 of Their Little Sugar Plum
Jonah cups the back of my neck, drawing me in for another kiss. “Mikayla. Before you go, I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah?” I grip the edge of the door.
He offers me a slow smile. “Merry Christmas. I love you.”
Mason
Beautiful little Mikayla practically floats out to my SUV. The blush on her cheeks makes my dick hard. There’s always been two warring elements about that girl—her sweet, innocent face and that sinful, curvy little body. She’s utter perfection, always has been. Since I met her over the summer, I’ve thought about her, off and on.
Retta did a number on me. I’d known it was over for quite some time, but I kept trying to twist myself into who she wanted me to be.
I nearly lost myself, but I’ll work to get back to who I am and what I want out of life. And I’ll never change my identity for a woman who doesn’t love me. Never again.
I climb out of the car and come around to open the door for Mikayla.
“Thanks, Mr. Clark,” she murmurs as she climbs in.
We make the one-hour trip with very little conversation. I’m distracted by how pretty she is—it’s the only thing keeping me from losing my mind with worry.
Violet’s at the cabin…and that’s exactly where I sent my kinkiest best friends.
3
Mason
Leaving Violet behind with Brody and Heath awakens feelings I can’t quite parse. My daughter is grown—I’ve known this for a long time. But to see her in the arms of my kinky friends? It will take some getting used to.
Having breakfast together reassured me of their intentions, though. They truly seem to dote on her.
Mikayla is quiet as we walk to my car. The ring at the front of her collar glints in the late morning glare. Brody and Heath both took note of the collar and I could see the questions in their eyes, but this collar has very little to do with me. Her boyfriend put it there, marking her as his.
I open the door for her and stare at the passenger seat. A wet spot stains the leather.
Either she was turned on as we rode up here, or her boyfriend’s come leaked out of her the whole way.
My bet is on the latter.
But what if she was also turned on?
She sees me staring at the stain. A pink blush overtakes her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Clark—I?—”
She stops, unable to continue.
I fucking love it when she calls me Mr. Clark. I used to tell her to call me by my first name, but when she never took to it, I gave up. I’m glad, now.
“You have an excuse?” I stare down at her, noticing her pert little tits with the nipples hard, poking against the red velvet of her dress. “I’m waiting.”
She shakes her head. “I’ll pay for a cleaning.”
She’ll do no such thing. I want that mark there.
“Is it your arousal, or Jonah’s come?” I gesture toward the stain. “Or is it both?”
Her cheeks turn a deeper pink. “Both. I think.”
“Get in. We’ll have a conversation on the way home.”
Mikayla
