Sugar - Lydia Michaels Page 0,2

bracing breath and tightened my posture just before the doors opened to the lobby. Shoulders back, tits out. Showtime.

Pasting on a pleasant smile, I sashayed out of the foyer and offered the concierge a polite nod as he held the door. All personal details about myself were masterfully disguised as I took that first step into the evening, autumn air.

The sleek Aston Martin Rapide idled silently by the curb as I carefully navigated the brick and cobblestone sidewalk in my pumps. My date, a man with passable looks, a receding hairline, and a designer suit I knew he didn’t choose himself, appeared beside the driver’s door and grinned.

His gaze measured me from head to toe, undeniable approval reflecting in his eyes. Not devastating eyes like the pair that studied me upstairs, but older eyes, worn by time and the stress that came with a hard-earned fortune and little time to play.

“Avery,” he greeted affectionately, gently clasping my elbow and leaning in as if intending to kiss my cheek but not daring to actually put his lips on me. “You’re stunning, as usual.”

The musk of his cologne lingered by my skin, a scent I’d be wearing all night once I sat in his car. It wasn’t an unpleasant fragrance. To be honest, I liked it more than most. But a man’s natural scent, clean from the shower without a trace of femininity, remained my favorite scent of all. I wished someone would let men know I wasn’t the only woman who felt that way.

“It’s nice to see you again, David. I’ve missed you.” I hadn’t, but the lie slipped easily as I flawlessly fell into my role.

He opened my door, his chivalry noted and appreciated—an occupational perk I often enjoyed. Once behind the wheel, he glanced at me and smiled. I returned the gesture, meeting his every anticipated expectation.

“Dinner first?”

I’d already eaten, but he didn’t need to know that. “Sure. Where would you like to go? You always find the best-hidden gems in the city.”

He didn’t. He went to all the usual rich and famous haunts, but making him feel superior and unique remained the goal. Reminding him he wasn’t my only sugar daddy would be an extreme faux pas. I knew better, and that’s why I excelled at my job.

“I have the perfect place in mind.”

The car shifted, its quality and design evident in the way the leather seat hugged my body at the slightest turn. Another luxury I relished, one I never imagined years ago when I left my home in Blackwater.

Shelving the brief recollection of my old, dilapidated mobile home—manufactured home to be more PC—I focused on the present. That shelf where I kept the memories I never talked about, grew more cluttered with unwanted forget-me-nots of my past every day. Unreturned phone calls from Momma, friend requests from old acquaintances left in social media purgatory, and too many dusty recollections to count kept a gnawing sense of guilt alive in my gut. But I kept squeezing my dirty past anywhere it would fit, ’cause I ain’t never going back to that hellhole…

This was where I belonged and planned to stay.



It took a minute—a solid, cock-swelling sixty seconds—after the elevator doors closed for the breath clogged in my lungs to release. Missed my chance again. What the hell was wrong with me?

Shoving into my condo, I tossed the junk mail onto the marble-topped secretary. My conscience ran on autopilot as my feet carried me to the window facing the street. Hugging the molding, I brushed the curtain aside and narrowed my eyes at the sight of a sleek Aston Martin pulling away. Even the cars she traveled in were sexy as fuck.

Once the vehicle pulled away, my fingers loosened the knot of my tie, and I pretended to push all thoughts of my new hot neighbor aside as I rummaged through the cabinets for dinner. But as I set the barley and wild rice to boil my mind returned to visions of her sweet ass swaying in that tight little dress as she sashayed into the elevator.

She saw me. She had to have seen me. We seemed to be playing some sort of game, and I couldn’t tell who held the lead.

The image of her looking up and holding my stare for that split second glance sent a jolt of hot blood pumping to my cock. Oh, yeah. She saw me. Then she got in the car with another guy.

Okay, so she might be dating someone. A complication,