Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Josie

I step out of the black SUV and smooth the ruffles of my pink skirt, staring up at the black onyx building emblazoned with the words Kraft Investments. Before the car pulls away, I turn to check my mascara, making sure my French-braided pigtails don’t have any stray hairs sticking up and nod, satisfied.

“Thank you,” I call to the driver. And when there is a break in pedestrian traffic, I move across the sidewalk toward the building. Where my presence has been very gruffly requested.

Of course I know why.

It’s the email I sent from that fake account.

I’m actually a little surprised that Gunner clicked on the link because he isn’t the type to trust the unknown or put up with any shenanigans. I was making a list of other ways to get the website in front of his face when he called me.

Based on his steely tone of voice, he has definitely seen my profile on the sugar babies website. It went live last night and I’ve had three hundred and twenty requests for contact. Not that I read a single one of them. I won’t read any of them unless I fail at convincing Gunner to give in. To give us what we both need.

Please don’t let him say no. Please don’t let him reject me.

It has been a week since I had his hands on me and I feel like I’m drowning without the maturity of his touch. The scrape of his palms and the rasp of his breath. I’ve lost count of the hours I’ve spent lying in bed and replaying those moments in the kitchen when our mouths met. Even now, walking through the air-conditioned lobby of his building, my nipples are erect thinking about how close we came to kissing. Me and Mr. Kraft.

The elevator arrives and I step inside amidst a group of black suits. I almost laugh at how insanely out of place I look, a pigtailed girl in head-to-toe pink, surrounded by businessmen. I face the wall to hide my stiff nipples, remembering too late that it’s mirrored—and none of the men are shy about looking at me, two of them even crowding closer until I’m pressed into the corner of the elevator, my breath accelerating with nerves, fear.

Normally, I’m a flirt. No amount of interest rattles me. But only with dumb boys my age who I can easily rebuff if they get the wrong idea. Or perceive my teasing as something more.

It’s never more. Only for Gunner.

Only ever for Gunner.

These men are older, have a hard, worldly look in their eyes. They’re used to getting what they want. My father has had men like this over for dinner countless times. I’ve attended parties with them. But I always make sure not to be alone with them. Not when they make their interest so obvious when no one is looking.

The men are all facing me now. Four of them, I see in the mirrored wall. One of them starts to unbuckle his belt, another one preparing to hit the emergency stop button on the metal panel—

The doors roll open.

And there is Gunner.

I start to slump against the wall in relief, but he already has my elbow in his grip and he’s pulling me off the elevator. Away from the predatory men…and directly into his embrace.

My knees almost give out at the perfection of being held by Gunner.

My savior.

I slide my arms up around his neck and inhale the woodsy scent from his clothes, nearly moaning when he wraps me up tight, one arm around my shoulders, one low around the small of my back. And when I look up, I see he’s snarling at the men on the elevator, baring his teeth at them in a possessive way that turns me on as much as it gives me hope. If he’s possessive over me, there is no way he’ll allow me to remain on the sugar babies website, right?

He’ll have no choice but to claim me.

The elevator closes once again, taking away the foursome of men.

“I have their faces on camera, Josie. They’ll be fired before the hour is out. They’ll be so ruined in this city, they’ll have no choice but to leave.” He exhales a curse. “I was watching the camera feed. I worried the elevator wouldn’t get here in time, baby—”

“It did. Now I’m safe,” I whisper into his neck, snuggling closer. “Thank you, Papa.”

Between our tightly-pressed bodies, Gunner becomes erect. I hear him swallow hard, one of his hands getting lost in the pink ruffles of my skirt. “What is this outfit you’re wearing? Throw in these pigtails and you look like a school girl.”

“I am a school girl.”

“Perhaps you should be punished like one,” he rasps, dragging his hand up the back of my skirt and kneading my right cheek—just one glorious time—before he rips his hand away, disentangling from me with a shaky curse. “Enough of this, Josie. Goddammit.”

Feeling abandoned, I default to my flirtatious routine, biting my bottom lip and twisting side to side. “You’re the one who brought me here.”

Gunner’s attention drops to my breasts and heats. “I must have been insane,” he mutters thickly, taking me by the wrist. “Don’t make eye contact with any of the men on the trading floor, is that understood?”

Laughing, I allow Gunner to drag me out of the deserted marble elevator bank and down a hallway. At the end of it, there is a reception desk, a sweeping, brightly lit office beyond, packed full of analysts and traders, all glued to their computers. “Why can’t I make eye contact?”

I’m caught off guard when Gunner wheels around, pressing me up against the wall of the hallway, his hard face an inch from me. “You perpetually look like you need to be fucked. That’s why. Every man you look at sees an invitation.”

His big chest and stomach are pinning me and I love it. “That’s their problem, not mine.”

“Don’t. Look. At a single one of them, Josie.” Lightly, his hand circles my throat, tightening ever so slightly. “In my current mood, if one of them showed interest in you, they would be removed from my employ immediately.”

“Why?” I trail a finger down his chest. “Because you want me all to yourself?”

He’s right on the verge of saying yes. I can tell. But at the last second, he blows out an unsteady breath and continues leading me down the hallway and through the office. It’s definitely in my nature to make eye contact with some inconsequential boy just to incite Gunner. What can I say? I’m sassy like that. But I want to be alone with him too badly to blow my chance. So I keep my eyes down on the sapphire-blue carpet until we’re safely enclosed in his office.

I’ve been in my father’s office, which is impressive, but Gunner’s is even more so. Two walls made up entirely of windows overlooking the financial district. A leather sofa in front of a fireplace. And on the other side of the office, there are built in bookshelves behind a humongous desk. He leads me over to it now, hitting a button on his phone that brings down the blinds on the windows, darkening the office, except for the flicker of the fireplace and the glow of his computer.

With a firm hand on my back, Gunner bends me forward over his desk, putting my face right in front of the screen—and there it is. The sugar babies website has been pulled up and my profile is open. Just knowing he looked at these pictures of me so scantily dressed wets my panties, makes me restlessly hot.

“Josie Elizabeth Lancaster,” Gunner says, using my full name, his hand flat between my shoulder blades, his lap pressed to my bottom. “You tell me right now that someone stole these pictures. That you didn’t voluntarily put them up on this horrific website.”

“I…I…”

“Josie, you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

“I did,” I whisper, my breath fogging up the computer screen. “How…who sent you this? How did you find out?”

Gunner lets out a hiss of breath over my confession, his big hand twisting in the back of my tank top. “A friend sent it to me, urging me to try the service. A service where men my age find young girls to fuck between business meetings. It’s inexcusable. It’s wrong.”

I don’t like making Gunner this upset. He doesn’t take care of himself and I get very worried about his stress level. Sometimes it even keeps me awake at night, tossing and turning anxiously, wishing he would just let me care for him. But I have to see this through. This is make or break. I can’t go on waiting for him to see me as more than a little girl. I have to force him to notice. I have to tempt him until he gives in. The alternative is loving him from afar for the rest of my life and I truly think that will kill me. So it’s full speed ahead.

Trust the plan.

“I wonder if your friend is one of the men who messaged me,” I drawl. “Asking to meet.”

Gunner stiffens, the tempo of his breath changing. Growing harsher. The fire crackles on the opposite end of the office. And then he does something I’m not expecting, but excites me beyond my wildest dreams. He flips up my skirt and spanks me. Hard.

“Cock teasing little brat,” he grunts, slapping his palm against my other cheek, ripping a gasp from my mouth, my fingers turning to claws on the desk. “You will take yourself off this fucking site. Immediately. You’ll delete every message you received. And I’m going to watch you do it. You’re going to sit that hot little ass right in Papa’s lap and take it all the hell down.”

I want to tell him yes. Yes, I’ll do it.

Especially because he called himself Papa. Treating me like his wayward little girl, just like I’ve dreamed about for so long. I want to scream my agreement and make him happy and be a good girl. But I can’t do that yet. Not yet. Not until he claims me himself.

“No,” I whimper. “You can’t make me.”

“Oh yes I can.” I’m turned over and crowded up onto the desk. He looms so close, I have no choice but to open my thighs for him, my femininity clenching when he steps between them, pressing his hard shaft flush to my cleft. “You don’t need the money, Josie. Why?”

“I do need it.” I wet my lips, hating that I have to lie. “M-my father keeps me on too short a leash. I want more spending money. Not that I owe you an explanation.”

“Don’t you, baby?” He ducks his head, breathing hard against the side of my neck. “Don’t you owe me an explanation, after treating me to little peeks of tits and ass for months? After you flashed me that airtight pussy on my kitchen counter?”

My thighs flex involuntarily around his bulky hips, my nipples throbbing now. Painfully. “You have a filthy mouth, Mr. Kraft. I had no idea.”

“Take down the profile,” he says with forced calm, his lips traveling up the side of my neck to bury in my hair, his hands inching higher and higher up the outside of my thighs. “You want spending money? I’ll get you a credit card. Cash. Whatever you want. But you don’t respond to any of those men. You take your beautiful image off the site.”

Almost there.

I can’t believe it, but we’re almost there. He’s touching me, offering me money.

It’s happening.

Once we have an agreement, we’ll have time. Time alone. To finally get to know each other as adults. I’ll finally be able to show him how good we can be together.

I run my hand down the length of his tie, tugging gently. “Are you offering to be my sugar daddy, Mr. Kraft?”

“What?” he barks, his head coming up. Eyes flashing. “Absolutely not. I’ll give you the money without strings. I’m not making a teenager fuck me for cash.”

Make me?

Is he crazy? I’m practically begging.

Push a little more.

“I won’t take your money without giving something in return.”

“Josie. No.” Even as he supposedly turns down my offer, he rakes his hands down over my breasts, plumping them in his hands. Teasing my already-stiff nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “Jesus Christ, these tits…they make me so goddamn hot.”

That admission dampens my panties even more. So close.

Ever so slightly, I tug him forward by the tie, planting my mouth against his ear. “There are a lot of reasons a man like you would want a sugar baby.” Slowly, I let go of his tie, lean back slightly and peel off my tank top, watching a violent shudder pass through him at the sight of my bare breasts. I draw his hands to them, urging him to mold the mounds in his strong grip and a wet spot appears on the fly of his pants, that massive chest heaving. “For one, you don’t have time to date. But you still deserve pleasure, don’t you?” I find his erection with my hand, rubbing the now-wet material up and down, earning a guttural moan from his mouth. “And with so much money, Papa, why not get that pleasure from a virgin? Don’t you want a little girl all your own?”

“Goddammit, no. A virgin?” His hands leave my breasts and grip my hips, as if he’s trying to convince himself to push me away. Instead, he yanks me up against his big body forcefully, dislodging my hands from his arousal. “Ah Jesus. No. I can’t. I can’t. I could be your father.”

“No. But you can be my Papa.” I open my thighs wider around his hips, arching my back enticingly. “Papa gets to put it anywhere.”

I have no sexual experience. I’m just a flirt.

But I can sense Gunner is on the verge of something extraordinary. His back is beginning to hunch, his fingers clutching and unclutching my hips. The color of his face deepens, his eyes squeezing shut. Nostrils flaring.

“You’d own my mouth. You’d own all of me,” I whisper. “I’m on the pill so you don’t have to pull out or use a condom.”

And then he makes a choked sound, ramming his hips up between my thighs. Just once. And he bellows into my neck, grinding down, down, his hefty frame shaking against me. Straining. Dampness blooms on the front of his pants, so much moisture that it drenches my panties, making them cling to my sex. All I can do is take it, let him soak me, my mouth open in utter shock and joy, my hands stroking his broad back soothingly.

“Get it all over me, Papa. I’m your good girl.”

Another bellowing moan and more release soaks the fly of his dress pants, his shaft jerking behind the zipper, his grip bruising on my hips. His mouth kisses my neck reverently, just once, and then unexpectedly, he tears himself away from me, taking a pocket square from the back pocket of his pants and wiping his forehead and upper lip, his gaze hot and a little wild on the spot between my splayed thighs. “Take the profile down. Now.”

“Does this mean—”

“Yes,” he heaves, raking a hand down his face. “I’ll be your…sugar daddy.”

I come very close to crying.

I’ve loved him so long.

Now I get to kiss him, be with him, spend time together the only way a no-nonsense businessman like him would ever allow. Under a contract. I want to throw myself into his arms, but I can tell he’s stunned by the force of his reaction to me. Knowing I need to give him time to acclimate to our new relationship, I put my tank top back on and hop off the desk, turning toward the monitor of his computer. A few key strokes later and the profile has been deleted.

“There,” I say, blinking back at him over my shoulder. “I’m taken.”

Still not breathing normally, Gunner jerks his wallet from his front right pocket and removes every bill in the fold. A giant stack of hundreds. And hands it to me. “Until I can make arrangements.”

Guilt tries to pervade my belly, but I ignore it. Gunner is a multi-billionaire. There is no limit to what he can afford. Plus, I remind myself, he would never agree to a normal relationship with me. He’s a man of rules and structure. I should know, I’ve been infatuated with him since I was twelve. There is no cheating at board games under his roof. No dessert before dinner. He needs things outlined perfectly and that’s why this plan will work. Until I can convince him we can have a real relationship. No money involved. Just love.

“Thank you,” I say, going up on my toes to kiss him softly on the mouth. “I’ll wait for you to call.” Another kiss, followed by a gentle bite of his full bottom lip. “I’ll think of you non-stop.”

He groans, staggering toward me and kissing me back, inhaling me, really, before breaking away as if shaken. More than anything, I want to be held in his arms, especially after my first sexual experience, but I know how to quit while I’m ahead. I’ve gotten what I came for and I better leave before Gunner’s conscience gets the better of him. So with one more kiss of his masculine mouth, I fix my clothes as much as possible and leave the office, already counting the seconds until my phone rings.