His Sugar Baby

He entered her tight heat without preliminaries, his swollen cock throbbing. He groaned at the silken feel of her surrounding him. He felt her sharp nails rake his back through his T-shirt. Michael cursed and dropped his head to nip one of her turgid nipples through blouse and bra. She cried out yet clutched him tighter. Folding his arms tightly around her, he lunged deeper into her hot liquid center, over and over.

Winter writhed under him. Her long supple legs wrapped around his waist, her locked heels digging into his flexing buttocks. Again, again, again, and again, faster harder, until he was driving her body across the rug. Sweat slicked him. Air sawed out of his lungs. “Oh God, oh God! Winter!” His heavy balls slapped noisily against her ass. His cock swelled, exploding. He gave himself over to the pleasurable mindlessness, throwing back his head, a tortured shout bursting from his throat. Michael fell forward heavily on top of her then rolled to the side. His body was utterly spent. His heart hammered, and he couldn’t immediately catch his breath.

When the fierce coupling was over, Winter sat up beside him and calmly pulled her clothing back together. Michael watched her, an uneasy feeling stirring inside of him. He couldn’t believe that she hadn’t been as physically affected as he had been.

He propped himself up on his elbow, taking care to guard his expression. There was something brittle about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. She bent forward and slipped on her pumps. He reached out to catch her slim wrist when she started to rise. “Winter, will you come back?”

“I have to work tomorrow.” She didn’t look at him. She had averted her face. Her tumbled auburn curls fell across the angle of her smooth cheek, hiding her expression from his intent gaze.

Slowly, Michael drew in his breath and let it out again. What the hell was she thinking? Why wouldn’t she talk to him or even look at him? “So do I. But afterward, come back to the house. I’ll grill steaks out by the pool. The weather will be good. You can bring your swimsuit.”

“Sure, Michael.” With a tug, she pulled free and rose lithely to her feet. Still not looking him in the face, she walked out of the room.

Michael didn’t move. He heard her heels clicking on the granite tile in the entry. He heard the front door open then shut. Heavy silence surrounded him. He slowly balled his hand into a fist, and he hit the thick rug with a sharp blow. Then he rolled over onto his back, throwing an arm across his eyes. His T-shirt stuck to his sweaty chest, his briefs and jeans were twisted around his knees, his privates were exposed to the cool air and God’s eyes, and none of it mattered.

She was slowly, inexorably, driving him insane.





Chapter Ten



As Michael had hoped, his suggestion of getting together again after work served as a means to re-cement his relationship with Winter. He did not push her into having sex. Instead, he went out of his way to make their time together companionable. On a gas grill out by the pool, he grilled chicken breasts and summer vegetables for their meal and served cold margaritas. He was pleased when she responded to his attempts at conversation. She gave every indication of enjoying simply being in his company. As the hot evening waned, he became cautiously confident that Winter had thought better about her decision to break up with him.

They were relaxing after taking a swim when his cell rang. He picked it up and looked at the caller ID. “Excuse me, Winter. I need to take this.” He flipped open the phone. “Hello! How are you, John? No, no, that’s fine. I’ve got the file here at the house. Just give me a minute to get to my office.” He mimed to Winter that he would be back soon, and she nodded. He opened the French door and stepped through it, his attention already focused on the call. “Sure, I understand. It’s not a problem.”

When his call was completed, Michael padded barefoot back through the house to return to the patio. He had just stepped through the open French door when he overheard Winter talking on her phone.

Sarah Roberts's books