Hot Sugar

Holy shit.

Who’d have known it would come to this?

Mr. CEO standing by the sidelines, beaming as his girl gets all the attention.

The master of the universe, brought to his knees by one sweet thing.

Because that’s how it is. Usually at these shindigs, people want to know me. I’m the guy in charge after all, holding the purse strings, their jobs at my fingertips. But tonight, it’s different. Tonight there’s a new star of the show, and that’s Carrie Newman. I don’t blame them. I’m starstruck as well, the female’s a nebula, blinding with her kindness and sincerity.

“Are you not having a good time?” Carrie whispers in my ear, mouth so close that it makes me shake.

“Of course I am, baby,” I pull her close. “Of course I am.”

“Then why do you keep checking the time?” she asks with a lilt to her voice. The female’s hand is resting on her hip, feigning attitude, but I know what this is really about.

“Because as much as I enjoy showing you off in public, I can’t wait to get you home so I can have you all to myself,” I growl, expression already going hungry. And her soft giggle is music to my ears.

“Well then, how much longer do we have to be here? Because I’ve got a surprise for you tonight,” she coos coyly, running one finger down the front of my shirt.

Shit, we shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t be openly flirting, not in front of all these professional acquaintances. But there’s a goofy grin on my face, a silly look complete with adoring eyes.

So I pull the brunette close, kissing that soft neck, uncaring of the onlookers. It’s strange, for sure. Usually, I hide my emotions, maintaining a mask of neutrality, like nothing can penetrate the shell. But now, all caution’s gone to the winds and I don’t fucking care. Mason Channing’s head over heels, folks. Yes, it’s true. She’s young, she’s luscious … and all mine.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Carrie

Coming to this function was unexpected, but it’s been good. People have been nice and not at all catty.

Because I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect at first. Usually, women aren’t so kind to me. They take one look at my curves and start thinking the wrong thing.

She’ll steal my boyfriend, they whisper.

She’s a ho, they gossip.

That girl only got Mason because she put out.

And words like that hurt a lot because the old saying’s not true. Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words sting even more. I know. My whole life, other people haven’t been so nice, even if it was just talk.

So I wasn’t sure what to expect at the gala, but everyone was perfectly polite. Maybe it was because I was with Mr. Channing. The CEO exuded confidence and dominance, darkly handsome in a black suit, blue gaze penetrating.

But now, at the end of the night, I’m worn out. My cheeks hurt from smiling constantly, and these heels are killing me. As if he can read my mind, the billionaire turns and meets my gaze from across the room.

The electricity is immediate.

My heart thumps loudly, adrenaline making me stand up straight.

And he walks over, strides long and sure.

“Hi gorgeous,” he says. “You ready to bust this joint?”

My answering smile is immediate.

“Yes please,” is my murmur. “If you don’t mind. Do you have to stay longer? I don’t mind,” are my hesitant words.

But the big man jerks his head.

“Naw, let’s go,” he growls. “I’ve had enough of this shit.”

And in an instant, we’re back in the Bentley, humming through the streets of Manhattan.

I thought I was exhausted.

Tired to the bone, ready to collapse after several hours on my feet.

But the moment we get into the apartment, fire rushes through my veins again.

Because I want him so bad. Those blue eyes all over my body, those hands on my curves. And yes, that dick in my cunt, making me feel good all over again.

“Big boy,” comes my low, throaty purr.

Mason’s eyes gleam.

“I thought you wanted to sleep?” he asks, one brow quirking. “I thought you wanted to get some zzz’s?”

I laugh slightly, edging onto his lap. He holds his glass away, the lowball of whiskey tinkling melodically.

But I’m doing more than that.

“Big boy, I have something for you,” is my husky smile.

His brow quirks again.

“What is it?”

The words are calm, but I can feel his erection jerk under my butt. And never breaking eye contact, I tug the top to my dress down, big boobies spilling out. Immediately, Mason ducks his head, meaning to catch a hard nip in his mouth. But I pull away, giggling.

“Big boy, like I said, I have something for you.”

He stares, blue gaze fierce.

“You better bring it then. Right now, pretty baby, because I ain’t waiting.”

And giggling again, I bring that tumbler to my breast.