Hot Sugar

The blonde shook her head slightly, eyes afraid.

“No I’m good Carrie. I got everything, thanks,” she said, patting the small duffel at her side.

I almost guffawed. That bag was no bigger than a knapsack, there couldn’t be more than a couple things in there.

But Carrie nodded her head jerkily.

“Good. Because I only want to go back once, and do a clean sweep. Are you sure there isn’t anything else?” she asks sharply.

And this is where I had to step in.

“Sweetheart,” is my low rasp. “You’re not going back there. Ever.”

The brunette turned to look at me.

“Mason, I have to,” she said, small shoulders straight. “I have to, there are important documents, someone’s got to clean up, there are so many things to do.”

But I cut her off.

“Naw honey. That’s not your job anymore. I have a staff. They’ll take care of it.”

Both girls’ jaws dropped then.

“A staff?” whispered Nicole. “You have people working for you?”

But it was Carrie’s reaction that made my chest go tight.

“You would do that for me?” she asked quietly. “For us, Mason?”

Because shit. All of a sudden, I realized I’d do that and more. I’d take the brunette to the moon. I’d buy her anything she wanted. I’d buy her a new set of parents if that was possible.

But unfortunately, Jim and Rhonda are her biological relatives, and no amount of money can change that. But there are other things.

“Just tell me what you need, honey, and I’ll make it happen. There’s nothing too big or too small.”

And with that, Carrie flew into my arms. That sweetly heaving form pressed into my hardness, making my dick jerk even during this sad situation.

Because that’s what the female does to me. With her little sister sitting not ten feet away, I wanted to weigh those boobies in my hands. I wanted to stroke her creamy cunt, to make the woman gasp with pleasure and forget the ugliness that had happened.

Because she’s mine.

Bought and paid for.

Five thousand a month.

The problem is suddenly this isn’t just about the money anymore.

It’s about something else.

Something real.

Something wild.

And shit … but I can’t wait.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Mason

My secretary’s voice bleeps from the intercom.

“Mr. Channing, it’s Miss Newman on the line,” Rachel chirps. Her voice jolts me from my reverie, and I grab the phone off the hook.

“Sweetheart?” I growl. “How are you?”

“Hi Mason,” is Carrie’s soft reply. “Good. How are you?”

My head falls back just hearing her soft voice, the tension rolling off my back. Shit. How does one small girl do this to me?

“I’m good,” comes my growl. “How are you and Nicole holding up?”

She sighs gently into the receiver.

“I’m worried about Nicole,” she admits. “My sister takes these things hard, so we’ve been talking a lot. I’ve been telling her that Rhonda and Jim can clean up,” she says.

“No they can’t,” I state flatly. “People like that are out of control.” Of course, Carrie didn’t see how her parents became wild animals at the prospect of money, and there’s no need to tell her.

The brunette takes a deep breath.

“I know Mason,” she says softly. “I know Jim and Rhonda aren’t model citizens, not by a long shot. But they’re also our parents, and I can’t badmouth them too much. It’s just not the right thing to do,” she says firmly.

And I have to respect her for that. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Your family is your family, no matter what happens.

“Okay,” I say smoothly. “But that’s Nicole. How are you sweet thing? How are you holding up?”

She sighs into the receiver before giggling lightly.

“Thank you for the hotel, Mason. You didn’t have to. The Mandarin Oriental is a five star place, and you know me and Nicole. We’d be fine with a budget motel, just any small space somewhere.”

A growl escapes from my throat.

“You deserve the best,” are my protective words. “You deserve it, sweetheart, and I’m gonna make sure you have it.”

I can almost hear her smile through the line.

“Thank you Mason, that’s very generous. But we need somewhere to stay permanently, each night must be so expensive. We have to move out, sooner rather than later.”

The Mandarin’s costing me four figures a night, but I don’t tell her that.

“Where are you thinking, sweetheart? Where are you thinking of moving?”

There’s a hesitant pause.

“Well, I’m going to see some places,” she begins. “I only spent a little of what you gave me, so first and last month’s rent aren’t a problem. There’s a guy I know who said he could show me some apartments.”

What?

What guy?

The housing market in the city is beyond predatory, and I don’t trust this clown whoever he is.

“A guy where?” I ask.

Carrie hesitates for a moment.

“Okay, I found him online. He has places in Queens, and –” she begins before I cut her off.

“You’re not moving to Queens,” is my flat reply.