Free Sugar Daddy by Sawyer Bennett Page A

get the fuck back to work?
    Images of Sela’s back arched off the bed and the muscles in her pussy clamping down hard on my fingers the first time she came flash through my brain and I click on the button without another moment’s hesitation.
    Scanning through the messages, I can see several potential Daddies have reached out to her. She’s responded to a few, but nothing more than a polite decline that she’s not interested. And then I see a long history of exchanges dating almost two weeks back with a man in Santa Clara, California.
    Frank Webert.
    And fuck…lame-ass name aside, he’s practically a perfect catch for her. He’s on the younger side at age forty-two, reasonably fit and attractive, and made his money in robotics. That means he’s super-fucking filthy rich.
    I read the messages and he comes on strong with Sela. While there is no overt solicitation or request for sex, there’s enough innuendo in his messages to her that he expects it. Her responses are flirtatiously vague but promising, and she did agree to meet with him this upcoming weekend.
    My bet is that he’ll have an agreement signed with her by Sunday.
    I think about how that makes me feel.
    I wonder if he can make her come the way I did.
    I wonder if she’ll suck his cock like—
    Surging up out of my chair, I grab my keys and phone off my desk. I look at her home address one more time and commit it to memory before logging off my computer.
    I walk out of my office and tell Linda in passing, “I’m going to be out for the rest of the day. I’ll return calls tomorrow.”
    “No problem,” she says with an affectionate smile. “Need me to do anything while you’re gone?”
    I stop and look back at her, wondering if I’ve gone temporarily insane. “Yeah…as a matter of fact…print me out a blank sugar agreement.”
    Linda blinks at me in surprise, momentarily stunned to inaction. I raise my eyebrows and lift my chin toward the printer that sits on the corner of her desk. She immediately jumps to it, taps her fingers on her keyboard a few times, and then the printer starts spitting out the document.
    She pulls it off, staples the two pages together, and hands it to me with wide eyes. “Are you going to sign that?”
    “I have no clue what I’m fucking doing,” I mutter as I walk down the hall toward the main door.
    —
    I check my watch for about the twentieth time and glance down Nineteenth Street. No sign of Sela yet.
    I’ve been parked outside her Oakland apartment at the corner of Twelfth and Nineteenth, not sure what direction she’d be coming from. I’m taking a guess she’s using BART to get to and from school, so I expect to see her walking down Nineteenth from the train station. It’s all supposition, and for all I know she’s got a car that gets her back and forth, but I doubt it. That’s a chunk of change to pay for gas and parking over at Golden Gate, and if she’s in the market for a Sugar Daddy I’m guessing she’s a BART girl.
    It’s nearing five p.m., starting to get dark, and I’m about ready to give up for the day. I’ve been sitting in my car nearly two hours and my ass is numb. I’m also starving, as I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I can always try again tomorrow. Or hell, maybe I should just call her. I have her phone number from the database.
    Just as my hand reaches for the ignition, I see Sela heading straight toward me. The sidewalk isn’t overly crowded, although there are several people walking in both directions, but regardless…I recognize her immediately. I spent so much time touching and licking that body, I’d recognize it anywhere.
    She’s dressed a far cry from her sexy dress of last night. Today she’s got on faded jeans that are ripped in one knee, black Converse tennis shoes, and a faded Raiders sweatshirt to ward off the chill. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she has a heavy-looking backpack slung over her right shoulder as she trudges toward her apartment