Hot Sugar

Her words practically die on the word Mason. Like she’s afraid to say the name, afraid to open Pandora’s box, releasing the furies.

But instead, there’s just silence. Dead air.

“What about it?” are my tuneless words.

Nicole tries again, eyes getting desperate.

“You don’t have to do this anymore,” she says in a brave voice. “I have a job. You can get another job. Don’t put yourself through this anymore.”

But Nicole has it all wrong.

“Are you worried about the money?” I say carefully. “Are you worried that we’ll be out on the street?”

And eyes swirling with emotion, my sister nods.

“We’ll find a way, I promise,” she says softly. “I’ve researched hostels, even apartments on Staten Island. If we scrimp and save, we can make it work. It won’t be anything like this,” she says, gesturing to the king bed and floor-length mirror, “But I’m okay with that. I just don’t want you to be like this,” she adds in a small voice.

And suddenly, I burst into laughter. Maniacal, crazy-woman laughter that makes my sister sit up with a jerk.

“What?” she asks. “What’s going on?”

But again, Nicole’s got it all wrong.

“I don’t care about our surroundings. I don’t care about this apartment or the clothes or the jewelry. You know that, missy,” I say with a sad smile.

Nicole nods.

“Yes, but what else could it be? All that stuff with Jim and Rhonda, and what they said about Mason,” she starts in a quavery voice. “He’s going to kick us out.”

I nod slowly.

“Yes, but that’s not what has me down.”

My sister’s stumped.

“But then what it is? I thought that’s why you were on the sugar baby site,” her voice breaks a little. “Money for … well, you know,” she flushes, embarrassed.

I smile gently at her.

“It started that way, sure,” are my soft words. “But it grew into something more. I’m not sad because we’re leaving this place, or that we have to live on Staten Island. I’m not sad that we’ll be eating cheese sandwiches and stale white bread. I’m sad because I fell in love with Mason,” are my soft words. “I fell in love with my sugar daddy, and that’s the ultimate no-no.”

Nicole’s stunned, at a loss for words.

“Really?” she asks in a hushed voice. “So you love him?”

And slowly, my head nods.

“Really, really,” I say in a sad voice. “I fell in love, and that’s not what you do in this line of business. I really messed up Nicole. So that’s why I’ve been in this room for a week now,” are my sad words. “That’s why I’ve been locked up, unable to move.”

Nicole takes my hand, squeezing it gently.

“It’s not so bad,” my sister says softly. “There are worse things than falling in love.”

I choke back a sob.

“Not when he doesn’t love you back,” are my unhappy words. “Not when –“

But suddenly there’s a growl at the door.

I look up and oh god, but Mason’s there, massive form looming, casting shadow upon shadow.

How long has he been standing there?

How long has he been watching us?

Did he hear what I said?

Did he hear my admission?

Suddenly, my cheeks flush bright pink, everything going hot.

Because I just declared myself. He must have overheard.

And sensing the electricity in the air, Nicole mumbles and excuses herself.

“I’ll just be in my room,” she says hurriedly, zipping her hoodie before dashing out of the room. “You know where to find me.”

And then the door closes.

Silence, heavy and thick.

Me and Mason alone in the room together.

The air pulsing, sizzling with energy.

Oh god, I must look a mess. My hair hasn’t seen a comb in ages, and my face is a mess of tears. Self-consciously, I raise my hands to my curls, trying to pat them into some sort of shape. Big help that is, the rat’s nest can’t be tamed that fast. Plus, my nightie is dirty and stained after a week straight in bed.

But the alpha doesn’t see it. Because Mr. Channing drops to his knee by my side, eyes penetrating, voice hoarse.

“Did you just say that, sweetheart?” he rasps, big hand grasping mine. “Did you say that you love me?”

My face flushes, and I squirm, hotly embarrassed. But there’s no denying it. Because what’s done is done. He heard everything, every word that came out of my mouth, every confession from the bottom of my heart.

And what use is it denying it now, anyways? The billionaire’s done with me. He doesn’t care. All he wants is for this to end smoothly, to send me on my way with a minimum of tears and recriminations.

So I nod, taking a deep breath.

“I do love you Mason, but it’s okay if you don’t love me back. It wasn’t part of our deal to begin with, and I don’t expect —“

But then the billionaire’s mouth slams down on mine, hard, hot and hungry, like a ravenous man who can’t get enough.