Free His Sugar Baby by Sarah Roberts

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