His Sugar Baby(18)

Darryl leaned forward and picked up the folder. Balancing it on his knee, he flipped through a few pages, skimming them. He began to nod. “The presentation looks good.”

They briefly discussed the project, Darryl’s recent trip, and a few other business issues before Darryl left the office. Michael glanced at his wristwatch. Two more hours. That incredible dress.

He smiled.





The ballet premier was spectacular. Winter was enthralled with the soaring music, the classical pageantry on stage, and the sheer glamour of the event. Michael had said nothing about her spending the night with him, so she had been able to relax into full enjoyment of the production.

As the performance concluded, she sighed in utter contentment. Winter clapped along with the rest of the appreciative audience. She almost regretted the end of what had turned out to be a perfect evening. It was a rare treat to get out of her lonely apartment and do something like this. She picked up her clutch bag and got to her feet. She was grateful to Michael for bringing her.

Michael helped her to drape the soft wrap over her bare shoulders. His warm hands rested on her for a moment before lifting away. She slid a glance back at her escort as they left their seats and began to make their way up the aisle with the rest of the audience. Michael had worn a black tux and white shirt that fit well across his broad shoulders and complemented his dark tan. He looked spectacular. Winter had seen more than one woman take notice of him. She had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a solicitous, good-looking man.

The animated buzz of conversation around them barely registered outside her reflections. Michael had been the perfect gentleman throughout the evening. During the intermission, they had exchanged polite chitchat about the performance, and Michael had mentioned that he was going out of town for several days. “I have a new client that I am hoping to interest in our encryption software.”

“I hope your trip is successful.”

He had leaned closer, a gleam in his pale eyes. “Have I told you yet that you look beautiful tonight?”

“I believe that you mentioned it once or twice,” she replied demurely. He had laughed, and as the lights dimmed with the end of the intermission, he had reached over to lace his fingers with hers.

At the memory, a smile touched her face. She had liked the ordinary give-and-take between them. With Michael, she didn’t have to be the strong, invincible woman that she pretended to be when she was with everyone else. For a time, she could be just a woman enjoying the company of an attractive and attentive man.

As she and Michael were making their way down the gallery toward the broad stairs, a bottleneck formed and the crowd slowed and eddied to a stop. The crowd was densely packed, and the lighting was dim. Winter waited patiently with Michael standing close behind her.

His palm smoothed warmly down her backside.

Winter jumped, exclaiming under her breath. Embarrassment fizzed through her veins. She darted a quick glance around, but no one seemed to have noticed. She felt his hand start its way down again. But this time his fingers lingered, tracing the line of the thong she wearing from side to side. Then, lazily, one finger followed the thong down between her buttocks.

She started forward a half step, but he caught her arm and pulled her back against him. He gently folded her arm behind her and held her wrist pressed to her lower back. It would appear to anyone who glanced their way that they were holding hands. Effectively holding her captive, he used his free hand to trace and tease the hollow of her buttocks. Then he palmed and kneaded and firmly squeezed one butt cheek.

Winter’s breasts rose and fell with her quickening breath. She was glad for the dim lighting, knowing that she was blushing. She struggled to keep her expression neutral, not wanting anyone to guess what he was doing. Warmth began to suffuse her body. His breath ruffled the curls at her nape, and she realized that he had stepped closer to her. The corner of his jacket brushed her hip.

His fingers tightened around her wrist as he moved her hand. She felt the satin texture of his tux pants against her fingertips, then the hard bulge that filled the shallow of her palm. She jerked her arm, but he would not have it. He leisurely stroked her imprisoned open hand firmly against him, up and down, up… Winter swallowed, feeling vividly every slide of him against her taut palm. Under her hand, his length grew and became more rigid. Michael’s free hand slowly massaged her butt in sensuous circles. Ribbons of heat began coiling low in her belly.

Winter bit her bottom lip. Her heart pounded erratically. Heat flushed her face and neck, spreading lower into her décolletage. She was stunned by the impact of Michael’s teasing play. She was actually getting turned on by what he was doing to her there in the crowded hallway. His long fingers suddenly slid under the curve of her ass, lightly caressing her intimately through the thin jersey. A frisson of pleasure shuddered through her. She swayed back against his chest.

“The crowd seems to be moving finally. Shall we go?” His voice was husky in her ear, but otherwise he sounded perfectly normal. Winter swallowed. She didn’t feel normal. Her heart was beating fast while her breath fluttered under her ribs. She did not trust her own voice, so she just nodded.

He freed her wrist and stepped round to her side to politely encase her elbow in the warmth of his cupped hand. Winter was glad of his support. Her legs felt wobbly. They slowly descended the stairs along with the rest of the crowd. They didn’t speak as they emerged out into the night, both too aware of the sexual tension that was arcing between them.