Sugar Daddy (Sugar Bowl #1) Page 4

  “Don’t take it personally,” I tell her with a charming smile as I take her by the elbow, guiding her to the bar where I left my drink. “He doesn’t like confident women. Threatens his masculinity and all.”

  She gives an unladylike snort. “I find that hard to believe.”

  Yes! A smoky voice that sounds exactly like sex. I knew it.

  “Well, it’s true, and I know him better than anyone in this room,” I tell her truthfully as we reach the bar and I pull out a stool for her. “Let me get you a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  She sits down, crosses one smooth leg over the other, and looks me directly in the face. “So…are you going to divulge all of your partner’s dirty secrets to me, Mr. North?”

  Ahhhh…she does know who I am.

  “It’s just Beck,” I reply as I hold my hand out to her. She takes it and rather than shake, I pull it up to my lips and press a whisper of a kiss on her knuckles. “You know who I am?”

  “Techie mastermind of The Sugar Bowl,” she says with a shrug, and I don’t see a hint of calculation in her eyes. Instead, she says, “I’m Sela Halstead, and I was hoping to get a moment with Mr. Townsend to talk about The Sugar Bowl.”

  My stomach bottoms out a bit, because I hate deception, and I eyeball her shrewdly. “You don’t look like a reporter.”

  She gives a husky laugh and touches her fingertips to my forearm in reassurance. “No. I’m a Sugar Baby, but I am writing a paper in my psych class about the sexual evolution of the human mind. I thought he’d have some interesting perspectives to share.”

  The tension leaves my shoulders and I smile at her. “Well, I’m sure I could provide you with the same type of information you’re looking for. I’m well versed on sexual evolution and my mind is quite human.”

  She laughs again and I raise my hand to catch the bartender’s attention. I look back down at her and ask, “What are you drinking?”

  She stares at me a moment, chews on her bottom lip as if plagued with indecision. Her eyes cut across the room to JT and then back to me before she finally says, “Whatever you’re serving at your place.”

  Chapter 5

  Sela

  I’ll have to say, the photographs I’d seen of Beck North don’t do him justice.

  In researching Jonathon Townsend, I’d naturally read my fill about his friend and business partner, Beckett North. While he chooses to stay out of the limelight for the most part, there was still a wealth of biographical information to be found.

  He’d attended the same prep school as Townsend and also went to Stanford. But whereas JT went on to pursue an MBA at his alma mater, Beck went east and got his master’s in computer science at MIT. He’s hailed by some as a certified genius, while others wonder why he wasted his talents on building a Web-based platform that was nothing more than another dating site. Regardless, my research showed well enough that Beck North was the brains behind this venture, while JT was the rich, pretty face they put on the posters.

  Except, in my humble opinion, Beck North is infinitely more gorgeous than Jonathon Townsend, and that has nothing to do with my bias and hate toward my rapist.

  Beck North is starring perfection in every woman’s fantasy. Tall, broad shoulders that fill out his expensively tailored suit in such a way that you know he was born to a life of privilege. Yet his eyes, which are more aquamarine than blue, hold a certain amount of humbleness within them. Whereas JT’s gaze was filled with nothing but condescension and arrogance, Beck’s is friendly and charming.

  There’s no doubt he’s probably sporting a four-hundred-dollar haircut as his dark brown hair is short on the sides, longer on the top with stylishly messy spikes pushed up and away from his forehead. Beck North oozes sophistication and smarts that would enable him to walk into any Wall Street boardroom and command attention. This is a product of his birth, social status, elite schooling, and multimillionaire ranking. In this respect, he and JT are just alike.

  But there was a glaring difference as I read about the two cofounders of The Sugar Bowl. Most of the articles and pictures of JT showcased a man who lived the high life. Ate at the most expensive restaurants, had the most lavish vacations, and frivolously spent his money on stupid shit like underwater personal submarines and advance seating on the first personal spaceship to the moon.

  Despite the nearly identical upbringing and social status, Beck North is a completely different story. Most articles about him dealt with his philanthropic and charitable work, his main passions including equal educational opportunities for inner-city kids and disaster-recovery work. I found numerous pictures of him in sweat-soaked and mud-covered clothes assisting disaster victims in the cleanup process. Find a hurricane, tornado, typhoon, mudslide, or tsunami in the world, and Beck North was jetting off to help clean up. I saw he was once quoted as saying, “I’ve always been a hard worker, but let’s face it. I sit at a desk all day in the air-conditioning. This is just a good way to get my hands dirty and keep my ego in check.”

  There was another difference as well. While most articles of JT showed him with a gorgeous beauty on his arm at every celebrity event he attended, Beck never seemed to date anyone. He always went stag to the few public events he attended, and I even read an article that said he was too busy with his career to have time for a relationship. He didn’t say this in a cold demeanor, but merely in a matter-of-fact way that told you love was low on his list of priorities.

  So what I’ve read about this enigmatic man makes it easy for me to believe that while most of his life is probably spent in boardrooms, because of his easygoing charm and egoless attitude, I bet you could throw a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on him and he’d just as easily fit into a dive bar listening to a grunge band.

  It was fascinating to read about him. Even more intriguing being up close.

  But I’m not interested in him in any way other than trying to figure out in this moment how I can use him to achieve my goals. I’m clearly not going home with Jonathon Townsend tonight, as that little part of my plan that was dependent on luck that went south in a hurry. I knew the plan was rash, somewhat ridiculous, but it was only my first shot at JT. I never intended to give up if the first go-round came up empty.

  “Whatever you’re serving at your place,” I told him as my blue eyes held his own. I had figured out enough in about thirty seconds that he likes the direct approach, unlike his partner.

  Beck gives little in the way of surprise. Possibly a momentary lifting of his eyebrows over my bold offer, but instantly his eyes project an appreciative intensity that he very much likes my answer.

  “Then let’s go,” he says as he takes my hand and suavely helps me right back off the barstool.

  I made a command decision and I’m going with it. JT was a bust tonight, effectively shutting me down within seconds of my introduction. Beck confirmed for me what I figured out in those dismissive moments. Jonathon Townsend is intimidated by confident women. I miscalculated that, figuring the thrill for him was in bringing a woman such as that down. I mean, isn’t that why rapists rape? For control, domination, and to compensate for all their mommy issues?

  Thus, the minute Beck North confirmed for me the reason why I was snubbed this evening, I figured out that unless I’m willing to pull my gun out right here, right now, and murder Townsend with a few hundred witnesses, I need to take a step back and recalculate. Figure out a different way to go about this.

  Besides, I can’t go in for the quick kill. I need information from him first, which means I have to get close to him.

  And perhaps Beck North is exactly what I need. Maybe an in with him will get me close to JT, but not so close as to risk exposure. Maybe I could even work something out that is less messy that the “bullet between the eye” plan, which makes my stomach turn a bit. I’m not good with blood.

  Maybe poison.

  That’s so much more stealthy and something I had actually considered before. Maybe I can get close to Townsend through Beck and
then poison JT at an opportune moment. Of course, that would mean I’d have to give up my quest for the identity of my other rapists, so that might not work out after all. Besides…I’ve been really looking forward to the instant gratification of watching fear overwhelm JT when I hold a gun to his head and then listen to him plead for his life. I won’t get that with the poisoning option, but I’ve got a far better chance of getting away with murder that way.

  This will take a bit more thought.

  Maybe having Beck intervene is a godsend. Maybe it was a signal to me that I need to take a step back, cool down a bit, and go forth with a plan that is less rash and driven by emotion. I should be a bit more calculating and give up on the satisfaction I’d get from brains blowing out of his skull.

  Yes…the gorgeous cofounder of The Sugar Bowl is probably exactly what I need.

  I’m led out of the ballroom with a gentle hand on my elbow. Beck doesn’t make small talk, but then why would he? My offer was clear, and it wasn’t for a drink.

  When we reach the elevators, he pushes the button and merely says, “I booked a room here tonight.”

  “That’s convenient,” I say with a laugh.

  It’s an easy laugh, and one I’m able to give with no qualms.

  If you think I should be feeling uncertain or weirded out by the prospect of having sex with a complete stranger I met less than five minutes ago, you’d be wrong, because there is nothing I wouldn’t do to carry out my plans.

  Infiltrate.

  Murder.

  Repeat.

  I will never be deterred in my revenge, and Beck North, with his good looks and brainy charm, is not going to be a chore for me at all.

  The elevator door opens and Beck’s hand drops from my elbow and takes hold of mine, lacing his fingers throughout. It’s an intimate act and my first reaction is to pull away, because intimacy has no place within my framework of deception. I need to remain cold and distanced, my mind focused on the ultimate goal.

  And yet, his warm hand engulfing mine sends a tiny pulse of security through me.

  Almost as if I have a partner in crime?

  Or perhaps it’s just a feeling of being grounded at this moment?

  Let’s face it, not but five minutes ago, my plan was to have this evening end in murder. Now it looks like it’s going to end in sex with a very gorgeous man and a restructuring of my agenda.

  As soon as the doors whisper closed and Beck hits the button for the thirteenth floor, he steps into me. With one hand still holding my own, and another pushed up under my chin to ensure my eyes lock with his, he tells me, “I’m not a Sugar Daddy, just so you know.”

  I blink at him in surprise, my mind spinning over the implications. “What do you mean?”

  His voice is soft but firm. “What I mean is that while I’m one of the owners of The Sugar Bowl, and while you are a Sugar Baby, I am not a Sugar Daddy. I am not looking to commit my time to one woman, nor my resources to any woman. So if you’re going up with me right now with the expectation that this will result in a lucrative contract, I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

  Well, fuck.

  I was sort of banking on that being a definite possibility. I mean, the whole point of these mixers is to hook up and form relationships. I assumed that’s why Beck was here. I thought it was sort of implied when he approached me. I mean, I didn’t think it was a given that would occur, but I figured maybe a night of wild and freaky sex would make him inclined to want to keep me around for a bit. Even if it was for a short contract period like a month. That would have certainly given me the time to come up with a new plan to kill JT.

  “Want me to take you back down?” Beck murmurs, and I blink again, trying to put my head in the game. The elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open.

  Time for another command decision and I go with my gut instinct. I’ve already figured out Beck likes a challenge, so I’m going to go with that.

  “I didn’t come tonight hoping to find a Sugar Daddy,” I say truthfully. Because I didn’t. I came to kill JT.

  And then I tell him another truth, because when I decided that becoming a Sugar Baby was going to be my cover, I went all in and started talking to various men in case someone got suspicious of me. “I really came to try to meet Mr. Townsend for my paper. I’m actually in talks with a potential Sugar Daddy in Santa Clara and we’re hoping to meet soon. He’s looking for a long-term commitment, and I’m looking for something stable enough to carry me all the way through my master’s degree.”

  This surprises him and his hand drops from my face. “Then why are you coming to my room with me?”

  “Because until I do enter into a ‘sugarship’—which is a stupid name, by the way—I’m a free agent. And I very much enjoy sex. Even more so with an intelligent, witty, and gorgeous man. So why not?”

  Okay, so that was a lie about the enjoying sex part. My rapists ensured I’d never be comfortable with the act of sex, and so I only view it as a necessary function that serves some other purpose for me.

  Beck’s lips curve up and his eyes crinkle in silent amusement. “I like that answer very much, Miss Halstead.”

  “Good,” I say with a wink, a little surprised with how well I’ve got my confident seductress act going. “Then let’s get going.”

  His hand takes mine again and we walk from the elevator side by side. His room is at the end of the hallway, and when we enter, I see why. It’s a corner suite with sweeping views of the Golden Gate Bridge and an outdoor balcony.

  “Want a drink?” he asks as he lets my hand go and loosens his tie.

  “No, I’m good,” I say as I look around, taking a few steps toward the balcony. Elegant furnishings, silk wallpaper, stylishly expensive furniture. So this is how the 1 percent live.

  Nice.

  Hands on my waist divert my attention and Beck steps into my backside. My heart rate immediately accelerates, half of my body going into a defensive posture and the other half opening wide up to the slight possibility of something thrilling with this man. Sex is complicated for me. My first experience was so horrific I tried to kill myself after.

  Since then, I’ve had good and bad.

  Some men do nothing more than thrust, grunt, and unload. That’s not so bad and it’s over with quickly.

  Some men are mediocre. They make attempts to get me off but are never successful, and I’ve become adept at faking the world’s best orgasm, which strokes their ego nicely.

  None have been fantastic. No one has ever made me go weak in the knees. Not one single man has ever inspired me to want to bring them to theirs.

  Doesn’t mean I haven’t brought them to their knees, it just means that I’ve never found someone that I wanted to do that to.

  No man has ever made me feel a connection to him past the act of sex. My psychiatrist once told me that was because I had no emotional connection when I was raped. In fact, it was so cold, brutal, and without regard for me as a human being that I have a hard time understanding and accepting intimacy. I just can’t reconcile that sex and kindness go together.

  I’ve never in my life experienced an orgasm while having sex with a man. Had plenty with my vibrator, but a man has never gotten me off, and I don’t need my psychiatrist to explain the reasoning behind that either.

  To me, sex is just an act. I could do without it, but I also don’t mind having it when it fits my agenda. In my past relationships, which have been few and far between, I had sex to make the other person feel good. More as a reward for treating me decently, and also maybe because while I may not have enjoyed it very much, it at least made me feel normal and not like a freak as I normally do.

  Tonight, sex with Beck will further my agenda, so I’m all in.

  Beck’s hand lifts, pulls my hair away from my neck. I feel his lips press there softly and a shiver runs up my spine. My heartbeat increases in tempo and a rush of adrenaline flushes throughout me with dizzying repercussion.

  Oh wow…that’s new.


  I suck in a deep breath and try to ground myself. His lips press harder against me, then I feel teeth against my skin. He scrapes them gently over me and a delicious ache forms between my legs.

  That’s also new, and the feeling is so disconcerting that I pull away from his embrace so I can get myself under control. My body has never reacted that way, and frankly, it scares the shit out of me, almost to the point that I consider running.

  I cannot afford to lose control with this man, a prospect that is almost as terrifying as my memories of my sixteenth birthday.

  Keep your eyes on the prize, Sela.

  It’s imperative that whatever happens tonight that I rock Beck North’s world to such an extent that he wants to see me again. I need to keep my foot in the door and that means tonight…I cannot hold anything back. It has to be my best performance ever.

  Turning to face Beck, I tilt my lips upward in a seductive curve and step into him. My hands go to his chest, slip upward and under his suit coat, to his shoulders where I push it off. It falls to the ground and before it hits, my hands are working his belt buckle.

  It’s a good thing too, because working the expensive, supple leather through the metal buckle helps to calm the shakiness of my hands. I pull the entire belt free and toss it away. My hands go immediately to the button of his dress slacks, but the minute I twist it free of the hole, Beck’s hands are on mine…stilling my progress.

  I look up slowly and Beck’s eyes are sizzling with need. This gratifies me, because I know that I have what he wants and I have the power to hook him with it. I press against his hold and try to tug at his zipper, but he draws my hands away.

  “Slow down a bit,” he says gruffly as I look back up at him. “We have all night.”

  “All the more reason to let me give you a blow job right now,” I tell him with sly look, and reach my hands out again. “Take the edge off.”

  “I like the edge,” he says in a low growl. “I like getting worked up. I like waiting until it’s even a bit painful. I also like being in charge, so those beautiful lips aren’t getting anywhere near my cock right now.”