Sugar Daddy Page 22

“Let’s do something casual,” he said, and started walking back toward his bedroom. My eyes dropped to the pile of mail, and I saw an envelope that he had already opened with what was clearly a birthday card sitting on top of it. My hand reached out, never once considering his privacy, and I picked up the card. It was generic-looking with a birthday cake on the front. On the inside just a simple printed message, HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Under that it wasn’t even signed, but was stamped in calligraphy with the names MR. AND MRS. BECKETT NORTH, SR.

His parents.

A rush of anger and sadness hit me all at once, that this was the type of card they would send their son. I got up from my chair and walked into Beck’s bedroom. He’d already shed his work clothes and was pulling on a pair of jeans. He looked up at me with a smile, then his eyes dropped to the card in my hand, back up to me with the same smile.

“Today’s your birthday?” I asked quietly.

He laughed and nodded at the card in my hand. “Actually it was two days ago. My mom’s secretary is apparently late in sending that to me.”

I gasped in outrage. His parents actually had someone send a card to him? And it was late on top of that?

Beck buttoned his fly and walked up to me, taking my face in my hands. He looked at me with sympathy.

Me.

With sympathy.

“Relax, Sela,” he said with a laugh and then a kiss to my lips. “That’s par for the course. I didn’t expect anything different.”

And while that made me feel marginally better, I still felt terrible. “But I was here two days ago with you. We went out to eat at The Slanted Door. You gorged on oysters and ceviche, and never once did you tell me it was your birthday.”

“It’s just a birthday,” he told me as he wrapped his arms around me. He kissed me again on top of my head, a measure of reassurance and affection that I’m upset on his behalf, and this act caused my stone heart to start to crack.

Beck then started talking about a new restaurant he wanted to try that had opened a few blocks over from the condo, and the subject of his birthday was put to rest.

Until today, that is.

I woke up with a plan already formed. I went to my classes, and as soon as they let out at one p.m., I hustled to the local market. I bought some beautiful salmon steaks, fresh asparagus, and a chocolate-raspberry cake from the bakery. I had thought briefly to bake him a cake, but I suck at baking and am only mediocre at cooking, so in order to preserve the sanctity of the only birthday party he was getting this year, I went with items that I couldn’t screw up. I also bought a large roll of silk floral ribbon in a pale pink color.

I did my studying, took a shower, slathered lotion all over me, and curled my hair. I applied a little bit of makeup and brushed my teeth. Wearing one of Beck’s robes, I managed to get the salmon steaks and asparagus in the oven, let them cook the required time, and then turned the heat off. It was ten of six when I scurried back to the bedroom and ditched the robe, picking up the silk ribbon.

And now at six p.m. I am lying in wait in the foyer when I hear Beck’s key in the lock.

I quickly light the candles on the cake I’m holding in one hand and then toss the lighter onto the nearby buffet table. I have just enough time to place my free hand on my hip and cock it out in a sexy pose when Beck opens the door.

I wish I had a video to capture the look on his face. His eyes go to the cake first, then to my face as I smile at him and say, “Happy birthday, Beck.”

His lips curve up and his eyes roam over my body, turning hotter and hotter with every inch they cover.

“Are you my present?” he asks in a husky voice as his eyes light back on mine. He closes the door behind him softly and flicks the lock.

I look down at myself, once again impressed with my ingenuity. I’m completely naked except for two things. The high-heeled silver sandals with ribbons that lace up my legs that Beck had returned to me, and pink silk ribbon wrapped from the very top of my thighs, around my ass and pelvis, covering my stomach, and on upward to wrap around my breasts. I finished the wrapping off with a bow right in the center of my chest.

“Come blow out your candles and you can unwrap me,” I whisper.

What I’m doing right now is a monumental feat for me. It’s the only time in my entire life I’ve ever made a conscious effort to seduce a man. I have never once offered myself up in such a sexy and overt manner. Two days ago when I waited in Beck’s bed naked doesn’t count, because that was my terrible attempt to be a good Sugar Baby, and it was completely lame. I did it because I felt I owed him for paying for college, and no other reason. I did it because I thought he was expecting it.

Tonight is different though.

I am doing this for Beck because I want to do this for him. I want him to have a memorable birthday because the one he had three days ago was shitty. And I want to see him smile because of it and know that someone on this earth is thinking about him in the way that he deserves.

“You are too much,” he murmurs as he drops his keys on the side table and prowls toward me.

He stops just inches away, the light from the candles making his face glow and his eyes to sizzle. I give him an impertinent smirk. “I only put five candles on. Didn’t want to burn down the house, old man.”

Beck snickers and turns to blow out the candles. “I’m only twenty-eight and I’m going to make you pay for that ‘old man’ comment.”

Beck takes the cake from my hand and turns to set it on the table beside his keys. As he turns back to me, he eyes the bottom of the ribbon hugging my thighs. “Got anything on under that pretty bow?”

“Nope,” I tell him, my hand still resting on my hip and trying to hold my sexy pose. I have no clue if I’m pulling it off, but Beck seems to appreciate what he sees.

“Perfect,” Beck murmurs, and his hands come to my shoulders. He turns me around and starts pushing me toward the dining room table. He kicks one of the massive chairs covered in cream leather to the side and uses an arm to push my books away, clearing a space just in front of me.

“Bend over,” he says as he puts a hand to the center of my back and starts pushing me forward.

Immediately I flush all over with warmth and awareness of what this must look like. I know the farther I bend over, the more the ribbon is going to ride up high on my ass and bare myself to him.

But even as I experience the thrill of excitement over the position he’s putting me in, a wave of anxiety hits me hard. My chest tightens and my muscles tense all over. My hands are practically shaking between nerves, fear, and desire as those emotions battle within me.

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