Sugar Baby Beautiful

She let out a deep sigh. “I told her to pay the bill yesterday. Thanks. Goodnight, Theo.”

I put my phone on the dresser and stripped down. Entering the bathroom, I reached for my toothbrush but stopped when I caught sight of the reddish-purple hickey on my neck. It had been her gift to me earlier this evening. Reaching up, I touched it and laughed.

She had said the point was to have fun, and I was having it.

CHAPTER NINE

My Life Motto

Felicity

7:00 a.m.

I’d spent the weekend at his house—three days and two nights—and hadn’t even realized it. Luckily he had a spare toothbrush, but for the most part, I wore his clothes, used his body wash, and never stepped outside. Since the party, we ate, we fucked, and everything else was really unbelievable. I never thought I could spend so much time with someone and not be annoyed by them. I didn’t think I’d ever spent time with Cleo or Mark like this.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” I said when he walked into the kitchen. He scanned the mess all over his kitchen island.

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“Explain to me what the right idea is, because it looks like you are trying, and failing, to make breakfast for me.”

“See, that’s the wrong idea. I was trying to make breakfast for myself. But as you can see, I’m not really good at cooking.” I sighed, putting down the spatula in defeat. He crossed to the refrigerator, the one I’d basically raided without saying anything to him. “I’ll pay you back for the groceries.”

“You sure used a lot for someone who selfishly tried to cook only for herself.” He made sure to emphasize the word as he drank orange juice.

“What you see as selfishness, I see as considerate because not only did I spare you from eating my food, but I also spared you from having to politely pretend you liked it.”

“Wow,” he said, putting his glass back on the counter. “You twisted that so well I almost want to say thank you.”

Smiling, I lifted burned toast. “Honestly, I think a thank-you is needed.”

“Sit and I’ll cook,” he said as he took a piece of my toast.

“Honestly, you don’t have to cook for me—”

“I’m not. It’s for me.” He winked and seized the eggs and a skillet. I felt the urge to stick my tongue out at him, but instead I cleaned up the mess I’d made. I placed everything where I’d gotten it from, since he had everything so neatly arranged before

“Your maid is going to hate me.” I laughed more to myself than him, but he answered anyway.

“Not possible since I don’t have a maid,” he retorted as he poured some milk into the eggs.

“What? Who cleans this place?” I glanced at him. He was staring at me, his eyes traveling down the length of my body.

“These hands are good for more than one thing. There is no maid or chef here. It’s just me unless I’m having people over. Disappointed?”

“Not even a little bit,” I replied, taking a seat on the other side of the island. “After this weekend, I can safely say you aren’t anything like I thought, Mr. Darcy.”

“What did you think of me, Ms. Harper?”

“At first domineering, cold, distant, emotionless, and sexy.” I shrugged as I leaned over to snatch one of tomato slices.

“And now?”

“Just a little bit domineering and still very sexy. Everything else is a barrier you use to keep people away.”

He paused, his eyes staring into mine, and without saying anything, he flipped the omelet over in the pan. He took a plate and fork from the cupboard. Folding the omelet, he slid it smoothly onto the plate. Walking around to me, he set it in front of me and leaned against the kitchen island.

“Don’t fool yourself, Felicity.” He lifted my chin. “I’m still all of those things, but the funny thing is, so are you.”