Knee Deep in Sugar Read online

  His lips are firm but tender, taking their fair share from mine without expecting more than I'm willing to give.

  The stubble along his jaw scratches like fine sandpaper as his mouth burns trails along the hairline by my ear and then down my throat.

  His hands cradle my head, his fingers slipping through my hair and then moving down my back and then-- finally-- around my waist and under my shirt, inching higher till I feel his fingers brush against my pebbled nipple.

  His touch carries more electricity than the storm outside.

  The slightest graze against my breast and my breath catches in my chest, my back arches.

  Our bodies move against each other like we're dancing.

  I manage to get his pants undone and slip my hand between us.

  That's when he warns me in a dark tone that we're about to go too far.

  His voice is thick with lust, warming the space just above my lips where he breaks our kiss long enough to give me a chance to stop.

  Maybe he thinks I'm doing this for the wrong reasons. Maybe I am. I don't care, feeling Grant inside me has been on my mind since he made me breakfast.

  "I'm not stopping," I pant in reply, "I need this-- I need you."

  My hand finds its way beneath the band of his boxers, my fingers wrapping around an erection harder and thicker than I imagined.

  "You do need this, don't you, Baby?"

  His voice is gravel and rock salt against my ear as his fingers slide between my legs and sink into my wetness.

  If I thought I was on fire for him before, now I know how hot I can burn.

  My body writhes against his hand and anything else I have to say is nothing but moans and whimpers while he strokes my center till I'm begging for release.

  Between us, we manage to claw our way out of our clothes while barely separating from one another.

  My hand fists his girth and I feel the surge of blood rushing below the surface of the delicate skin.

  I think that if I don't have him inside me, I'll go insane but my effort is met with the hoarsest of chuckles as he pushes my hands away and moves down my body.

  "First I need to taste this pussy that's been teasing me," he murmurs against my belly as he pushes my thighs wide to make room for his shoulders.

  At first I'm reluctant. I miss the weight of his body on mine, the secure feeling of being so completely enveloped by his strength. I want the smell of him back in my lungs and being denied the feel of his cock filling me up to bursting seems like a cruel punishment I don't deserve.

  But when his mouth finds my core, I'm thoroughly convinced.

  Grant's fingers trace the slick seam of my sex, gently at first. His mouth only occasionally landing tenderly in their wake, teasing me but also taking his time to appreciate my body and learn the ways to touch me that make me come alive in his hands.

  And I do.

  His fingers and his mouth work together in a dance with my body that has me moving in time with the beat of music that only exists inside me.

  I come for him when he tells me to, calling out for him before giving in to the call of the storm that threatens to carry me away with the one raging outside.

  "Fuck baby," Grant whispers as his teeth bite gently into the hinge of my thigh, "that was amazing."

  His voice is dark and ragged coming between heavy breaths that remind me that he's still on that dangerous edge of need.

  It knots me up somewhere much lower than my stomach, sending new heat rushing through me and I feel new moisture building between my thighs.

  "Let's see if you're ready to do it again," he rasps against my belly with another kiss that's more gentle bite than tender press of lips.

  His mouth stops again at my nipples, taking time to pull them between his teeth and roll his tongue around the hardened buds while his hands hold them in place with a firm grip.

  Once again I'm twisting and turning in his hands, moving any way I can find that brings our bodies closer to being one.

  "Tell me what you need, Cass."

  His eyes are back to mine, watching me in the flashes of lightning that sporadically lights the room around us.

  He presses his cock against me, the slippery head teasing at my entrance, making me whimper.

  "Tell me you want me inside you," he whispers, "natural and raw, nothing between us--"

  His voice has an urgency to it, his words running together. His hand grips my hip, fingers digging in. I don't know if he's trying to hold me back from my efforts to pull him into me or if he's pulling me closer, dragging me onto him.

  "I want that," I can barely make words come together. "I want to feel you inside me," I plead, "I need to have your cock--"

  He thrusts without warning, rendering my words pointless. There's nothing left I can say as Grant finally grants my wish.

  His dick is thick and long and so hard it feels like I'm being impaled. I can feel my body being stretched, forced to make room for him as he pushes deeper.

  It's even better than I anticipated. The way he fits into me. The way I feel like I was made to hold him like this.

  My breath hitches. My eyes squeeze tightly shut and I feel my own teeth on my lower lip before I feel his mouth take their place.

  And then we're moving together as if we'd done it a thousand times. Each thrust deeper and sweeter and filling me more completely.

  Grant's breath is coming heavier, his thrusts stronger and more rhythmic, and I want to hold on to him like this and ride the storm out with him. I want to watch him when he loses his control and shakes in my hands as he pours his seed inside me.

  But first, I feel the need to join him out there on that ledge.

  We come together.

  Our voices joining the wind and the thunder around us. Our bodies moving fast and hard, slick with sweat and the combined fluids of our bodies and then I'm not aware of the details anymore.

  I only know that I'm with Grant and that I'm safe to let go.

  Before I can even catch my breath, Grant's hands tighten on my body. His thrusts go wild and he comes hard with a rough grunt and a string of compliments disguised as obscenities.

  "Shit," there's a touch of relieved laughter in his voice as he collapses onto me and then rolls so that I'm cradled against his chest without completely slipping out of me, "I didn't mean to do that."

  Whatever he's talking about, I don't have the energy to ask. I'm enjoying the warmth of being sheltered against his body, listening to the strong beat of his heart as it slows back to normal.

  Besides, whatever he's talking about, he doesn't sound very convincing. So I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off, only vaguely hearing his own drowsy voice whispering against the top of my head.

  "I should have asked if you're on the pill."

  Grant

  The worst of the storm died down while we slept, but the rain continued till well into the following afternoon.

  Of course, the hotel's power was restored long before Cassidy and I woke up long enough to move to the master bedroom and make love long and slow before fading back to sleep.

  Over the last week, I've watched Cassidy blossom. Coming out of the shell of fear she'd been living in and letting me discover the strong and courageous woman she really is.

  She's also opened up, trusting me with so much more of herself than just the story of how she ended up here.

  "What would you do with a sugar daddy anyway?" I chide softly as we lay in bed together on the first morning that the sun hasn't had to fight to get through the clouds.

  Cass's warm curves wrapped around my body in the early morning has become such a part of my regular routine, I don't remember what it was like without her.

  She giggles and kisses my chest and I feel my cock stiffen as her body moves against mine.

  "Why, are you volunteering?" She asks, playfully.

  It's been our private joke since that first night that I had to force her to come in from the cold. It's not a surprise that she's not takin
g me seriously.

  Cassy isn't exactly the sort of woman that would choose a man because of his money.

  And I'm not the sort of man that would put up with a woman who only cares about my net worth.

  Maybe that's why it's easy to joke with her.

  Maybe that's why it's easy to make the offer.

  "I certainly fit the criteria," I tell her just as playfully, "I'm rich, I'm educated, cultured, incredibly good looking..."

  Cassidy's laugh catches her by surprise and she snorts.

  "Oh my God," She raises herself up on her elbow and looks down at me.

  The sheet drops off her shoulder, revealing the creamy flesh of her breast tipped with its rose colored nipple. Her nearly black hair is a tangled mess around her head from last night's love making that shines in the early morning sun.

  She's beautiful in every way and I know I want to be more than just her sugar daddy.

  "You're right! You are the perfect candidate," she teases, "You're old and totally full of yourself!"

  "Seven years," I point out as I roll her onto her back and give her my best glare, "That's not that much older than you."

  Cassidy stops laughing. She swallows hard as her eyes look into mine.

  "I don't want a sugar daddy, Grant," she tells me softly, in a voice that sends hope soaring through me, "I just want to be able to live my life again."

  I nod in understanding.

  Then I kiss her.

  Then I kiss her again.

  Maybe Cass doesn't want a sugar daddy, but I sure as hell hope she wants me.

  And not just in the way that her hands and mouth are suggesting as she gently pushes me back on the bed and slides under the covers.

  As long as I'm around, this perfect woman has nothing to worry about. And I plan on being around for a very long time.

  A week ago, I didn't think twice about the time it takes to keep the resort running.

  I've been working in my family's hotels and campgrounds since I was 15, running one or several in some capacity since I graduated college.

  After proving myself at the corporate level, I stepped down from the stress of the constant international travel, the board meetings, the constant reports and paperwork of being part of the family business and let my younger brother have the limelight.

  I've always loved the hands-on work of running just one property and running it personally. And our South Dakota resort, with it's placement between the Black Hills and the Badlands, was the place I fell in love with that during first summer internship I did back when I was in high school.

  It was a given that I'd ask for the Black Hills Ranch for myself when I decided I wanted to simplify my life and get back to the basics of running my own place.

  As I check off my to-do list on my regular route through the hotel this morning, I think how much can change in a single week.

  Who am I kidding? It's not the time that changed things-- it's Cassidy.

  It's still satisfying to keep the resort working smoothly. It's just harder to concentrate when my mind is hopelessly lost in Cass.

  Memories of the first time I saw her, curled up right there on that couch looking like a frightened kitten. Memories of her just this morning, moaning for me while I made her come again and again. Memories of her saying she doesn't want a sugar daddy...and all the fantasies she's inspired.

  We've only talked a little bit about what comes next.

  Now that she's feeling safe enough to let her guard down. We managed to contact her parents in Florida and let them know where she is and that she's all right. We got a hold of her girlfriend back home and made sure that she got Cassy's apartment sorted out so we could give her landlord notice that she won't be returning.

  Sugar daddy or not, I'm glad I'm in the position to be able to take care of the expenses that were piling up from Cass having to leave town without notice.

  Her rent has been paid. Her friend, Lisa, has been able to have a moving company put everything from the apartment into a storage unit-- for the time being. I'm hoping Cass's things will be joining her in South Dakota very soon.

  What I need to do now that the weather has finally decided to cooperate, is get her car towed to a local repair shop and have that battery exchanged-- as well as anything else that needs attention.

  Turns out the car is on loan from another friend. Someone this asshole stalker doesn't know about, so he couldn't track her by the plates anymore.

  At first, I thought Cassidy's story might have been a little exaggerated. Certainly this guy's sister in law isn't abusing her resources as a law enforcement officer to help what has to be an obviously deranged man stalk someone. Even if he is family.

  After a talk with my buddy, Patrick Andrews-- sheriff-- Patrick Andrews, on the subject though, my eyes are open to just how grey that area can look depending on the situation.

  So now that my actual work chores have gotten crossed off the to-do list for the day, it's time to make some phone calls.

  Cassidy

  Grant called up to the room to tell me he's having my car towed to a shop and he needs the keys.

  Of course, I haven't been hiding in the suite all week. I've gotten to know pretty much all the staff now and I've been getting the hang of the way the resort works.

  At first I was really self-conscious about the staff thinking I was some bimbo that the boss was banging. Hell, for all I knew at the time, he puts women up in the penthouse suites all the time.

  Everyone's been great to me though.

  Apparently the boss does not make a habit of comping lavish suites to random women. In fact, according to Amanda, who runs the kitchen at the main restaurant downstairs (and makes a mean chicken fried steak,) no one on staff has ever seen Grant with a woman.

  They all think I'm a unicorn.

  Grant told me to meet him in the parking lot, by the car.

  It'll be nice to be able to get my own car back from my dad's old college buddy, Nick. It was really nice of him to let me take the Land Rover so no one could trace my plates while I figured out where I was headed. But the Rover is old, it gets lousy gas mileage, and I found out real quick that it's an expensive car to have work done on.

  I miss my little hatchback.

  I know Grant and I joke around about the sugar daddy thing, but there's no way I can let him pay for all the things he's been doing for me. I have to figure out how I'm going to pay him back.

  That's why I've been talking to Amanda about staying here and coming to work in the kitchen. I can't cook, and they don't need many cakes decorated here at the resort, but I'm pretty good with a paring knife and a melon baller-- I can bring the morning buffet's fruit bar to a whole new level.

  I have no idea how long I'd have to work at the lodge to pay Grant back but I'm sure he won't mind having me around.

  Things between us are going really well for only being a week.

  Like, it just feels right.

  Thinking about Grant and staying here at the lodge and working in the kitchen and hoping that Grant might be interested in having me stick around for more than just letting me work for him, has me practically skipping across the lobby when I get off the elevators.

  The sun finally came out and the light is pouring through the big windows and glass door at the front entrance of the main lodge building.

  Of course, my sunglasses are out in the car still, not like I've needed them all week!

  So I have to squint into the bright light as I head for the door, excited about getting out into the sunlight and excited about seeing Grant when I get out there.

  And totally not paying any attention to the man standing by the entrance of the general store that turns to follow me as I cross the lobby.

  "Hey Cass."

  At first I don't think anything of the man's voice casually calling my name as I walk toward the big doors of the hotel's main entrance.

  "Took me forever to catch up to ya."

  Something rings familiar about the voice tha
t's quickly closing distance from behind me.

  My hand lands on the bronze Elk horn replica handle, ready to push the heavy glass and wooden door open to the vestibule, my instinct to keep walking even though I haven't yet registered why the man's voice sounds familiar.

  A hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me from going any farther and I turn to face the man.

  Donald.

  It's been almost 3 months since I've actually seen him. He stopped shaving at some point, but it's not hard to recognize him under the unkempt beard.

  "Your folks wouldn't answer my calls."

  He seems genuinely confused as to why that would be.

  "And your friend, Lisa, called the cops on me every time I tried to ask about you."

  My eyes dart frantically toward the front desk, hoping someone notices what's happening but there's no one out front.

  Donald seems agitated but not angry and I don't want to do anything that flips that switch.

  "Oh, uh, I," I stutter, wanting to acknowledge him but not having a clue how to respond.

  When I left everything behind in the middle of the night over a month ago, it was because the cops couldn't do anything about the break-in even though I knew it had been Donald. I never thought I'd be gone so long.

  I never thought I'd end up leaving my job, giving up my apartment, canceling my cell phone.

  I've spent the last few weeks questioning whether the situation was really that serious, wondering if I over reacted?

  Right now, standing rooted in place while I stare down an obviously unbalanced set of watery blue eyes, there's no doubt in my mind that I wasn't taking it serious enough.

  "Cass, I just need to talk to you, Babe."

  His grip on my shoulder softens and his touch borders on a caress.

  My stomach turns.

  My blood is cold in my veins.

  Everything in me wants to laugh out loud at him when he calls me "Babe," as if there's ever been any thing to base that on.

  I'm ready to snap.

  I'm tired of running. I'm tired of giving this asshole any more power over me or letting him steal any more of my energy.