Sugar Daddies Read online

  He pushed the door closed behind us, and reached for my hand and it felt alright. I could do this.

  Or so I thought.

  Until there was him. Mr Stern. And he was massive. Massive and perfect. And really stern. His eyes looked like they hunted girls like me for breakfast.

  “Carl, this is Katie. Katie, this is Carl.”

  Carl took a step forwards, and I instinctively took a little shimmy back, but his hand had already landed on mine, squeezed hard. “Introductions aren’t entirely necessary, Rick,” he said, and I wasn’t sure how serious he was. “Pleased you could join us, Katie. I’ve heard a lot. All good.”

  “Same,” I said. “I mean, bits, from Rick.”

  I’ve heard you’re intense, and serious, and great in bed. I’ve heard you’re not as scary as you first appear. I’ve heard you work all over the country, closing mega technology deals worth enough to make the eyes water. I’ve heard you’re driven, and smart, and really nice when you get to know you.

  I’ve heard I have to take you both at once. That’s the condition. Your condition.

  I’ve heard that’s what gets you off.

  But I couldn’t fathom any of it, I could only burn under the way his eyes ate mine. Green, like bay leaves, flecked with silver. His hair was dark and slick, and his shirt was crisp and white, the collar so sharp it could cut. He was wearing tailored trousers, even on the weekend, and his watch was expensive and caught the light as I watched his hand shaking mine.

  “So, Katie, what brings you here? Why us?”

  Direct.

  Rick jabbed him in the arm, elbowed him pretty hard. “I’m sure Katie would like a drink, Carl.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, angling me past his confrontational other half, where my body skirted Carl’s just a little too closely. My skin prickled and my legs felt like jelly, as though he was melting me.

  I couldn’t fuck him.

  He’d destroy me. Turn me into a puddle of gooey nothing.

  But I was giddy at the thought. Giddy with everything. And it all seemed so stupid, this whole thing was crazy stupid. A silly girl out of her depth, thinking she could cut it as some kind of high class escort to two bisexual guys, just because she took it up the ass a few times at college and enjoyed it.

  A lot.

  Ok, I enjoyed it a lot.

  But still.

  Fuck.

  Rick led me on through the hallway into a huge, airy kitchen. The place was gorgeous, framed energy drink adverts lined the walls above glossy white ceramic tiles, and the tops were black marble.

  “You did these?” I asked, pointing one out.

  “Sure did.” He smiled at me, and I’d have relaxed completely if I hadn’t felt the heat of Carl behind me. “Wine? Spirits? Soft drink?” Rick raised his eyebrows. “Power-up lime, the drink of champions?”

  I smiled back. “Water, please.”

  He took out a mineral water, one of those posh ones in glass bottles, dispensed some ice from their super cool fridge-freezer, and handed it over in a twisty glass. I sipped, and my throat was tight with nerves.

  “A little apprehensive?” Rick asked, and his eyes were twinkling. “Hey, don’t sweat it. I’m nervous, too.” He looked behind me. “We all are.”

  I didn’t believe that somehow.

  “This is… surreal…” I managed. “It feels so different in real life.” I checked myself. “Not bad different. Just different.”

  “We should go through to the lounge,” a deep voice said. “It’s more comfortable.”

  My heart pounded.

  I followed him mutely, with a paper smile on my face all the way. I chose a seat in the far corner, a big white leather armchair that swallowed me up. Rick took one of the pouffes beside me, arranging himself casually with his legs kicked out towards mine. Carl took the chair opposite, and there was nothing casual whatsoever about him. He sat forward in his seat, with purpose, eyes on mine.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  Plenty. But I couldn’t think of a single one besides the obvious. Are you going to fuck me now? Here? On your lounge rug while my heart pounds ten to the dozen? Are you going to insist I take two cocks right from the off, and judge me if I squeal? Are you going to be disappointed when I wimp out of anal and cry that it’s been a while?

  Am I going to be good enough?

  I pictured my dreams, everything I’d ever wanted, and all the ways they’d seemed impossible before I’d stumbled across the Sugar Daddies article in Glitz magazine.

  I needed to be good enough for this.

  I took another sip of water and focused my mind.

  Questions. He wanted questions.

  “I have a few,” I said.

  And then the questions came.

  I started with the innocuous. “You guys have been together three years?”

  Carl stared at me, and my heart wouldn’t stop pounding. “I’m sure Rick filled you in.”

  So much for an ice breaker.

  Rick took a breath, and smiled all the brighter. “Three years, yeah. Met through adult hook up, just for threesomes, and when things didn’t work out for Carl and Melanie we just kept on going with other women until one day we kept on going without. Just us.” He leaned back on the pouffe and I admired the swirls of colour on his forearms. “But we don’t want just us. We’re far too greedy and far too bi.” He laughed a little, and behind the warmth of his smile I caught a hint of nerves.

  Carl cleared his throat. “Our routine makes it challenging to find women compatible with our… requirements. Hence we were advertising.”

  Were advertising. The choice of tense didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Makes sense,” I said. “So much is online these days. Dating made simple…”

  Green eyes pierced me. “We haven’t found it to be all that simple so far. I’m hoping that’s about to change.”

  My skin was burning, and I hoped I wasn’t pinking up. I brushed my hair back, feigned confidence. “I hope so, too.” I took a sip of water and decided to go all in. “So, these… requirements? What are they?”

  Rick leaned forward in a heartbeat, all ready to start talking, but Carl spoke first.

  “We want a woman who will share our preferences in the bedroom, indulge us often, and keep us in pleasant company outside of it. We want a relationship without drama, without endless questioning about where this is going, or what’s going on, or concerns over pointless mundane trivialities.” He paused, his eyes on my bare knees. “We want a woman who can accommodate us both at once.” Another pause, and those smouldering eyes felt like they were prising my legs open.

  “Yes, of course,” I said, as if he’d just asked for extra sugar in his tea.

  “We want someone who can stay neutral to both of us, who isn’t going to get notions of falling in love with just one man. We don’t have time for that kind of emotional involvement. We want someone we both find attractive, who turns us both on. A lot.” He smiled, and he had such perfect teeth. “It’s safe to say you tick those boxes.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I said the obvious. “Thank you.”

  His eyes looked me up and down, and my confidence faltered. “What about you, Katie? What are your requirements?”

  Shit. “I want…” I took another sip of water to ease my throat. “I want to experiment. I want a dynamic I can be comfortable in…”

  “And two cocks?” Carl smirked. “You want to feel two dicks in your pussy at once, yes? As per your message. We enjoyed your message.”

  Rick shot him a glare. “She wants to get to know us, Carl. She’s only just walked through the bloody door.”

  “She is getting to know us. I’m just stating the obvious, why not call a spade a spade?”

  Rick scowled at him. “Why not just have a drink and relax?”

  “Because that’s not why we’re here.” Carl fixed me back in his gaze and I found myself licking my dry lips. “That is what you want, isn’t it? Two men at once?”


  I nodded, certain the blush was creeping up my cheeks. “It’s… it’s my fantasy…”

  “And now that we’re all here, in the same room, is it still your fantasy? How about it, Katie, do we measure up to your fantasy?”

  Rick visibly squirmed, and his eyes were full of apology, but I didn’t mind. I had metal. I had to have metal, or I wouldn’t last five minutes of this crazy shit.

  “Yes, it’s still my fantasy. You’re a very attractive couple.”

  Carl nodded, seemingly appeased, and I felt strangely satisfied by his approval. “Good.” He got to his feet and stepped away, grabbing an envelope from a corner cabinet. He handed it over. “Our paperwork.”

  Shit really was getting real. I pulled my own envelope from my bag and offered it to him. His fingers touched mine as he took it and I swear I felt the spark. He gave me a nod as if he’d felt it too.

  I pulled out their documentation, STI test results less than a month old. They were clean, both of them. Carl had already finished with my paperwork by the time I’d finished. He offered it to Rick, but Rick waved it away. “We should have had a drink,” he said. “Sorry.”

  I shrugged. “Better to get the formalities out of the way, right?”

  He went to answer but Carl started up again. “You’re on the pill?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I’m very careful.”

  “And you’re comfortable with this being an exclusive arrangement? No other partners on the side.”

  “Yes.”

  “How long are you willing to commit?”

  I drank the rest of my water. “I’m unsure… I was thinking a few months. Maybe six?”

  “Six months works. We can talk again after six. Renegotiate the arrangement. Iron out any issues.”

  There was an edge to his words that sent a shiver up my spine. A brooding heaviness, and it felt so ominous.

  Rick piped up, his tone light. “Of course we’ll talk,” he said. “Often. Nothing is set in stone, we’re people, right?” He laughed. “This thing isn’t going to be signed in blood. We can be flexible; make sure everyone’s happy.”

  Carl pulled out a mobile phone. “So, what are you hoping for in terms of the financials, Katie? Do you have a figure in mind?”

  I suddenly felt dirty, and fought back the nerves. Money. I hate talking about money. “I’m really not sure… do you?”

  “We paid our last companion two grand a month, but she only did one weekend out of every two. She had children.”

  Their last companion. Nothing like making a girl feel special. I brushed it aside. “That’s… generous. Very generous.”

  “Not that generous. You should hold out for three.”

  I forced a smile. “Maybe I will.”

  Rick reached out, put a hand on my arm. “We’re more than happy to give you three.”

  Three grand a month. My legs were shaking. I could do a lot with three grand a month… If I kept my waitressing job, just weeknights… I could have saved enough in six months, enough for everything, or at least a shot.

  My voice came out raspy. “What would you expect for three grand a month?”

  The air felt heavy until Carl answered. “Three weekends out of four, ideally. A sunny disposition at all times. And sex. Lots of sex.”

  “I can do that.” I wished I was as sure as I sounded, but three grand would make me sure.

  “Fine.” Carl tapped at his phone. “What’s your email address?”

  “Katie S loves horses at gmail dot com.”

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. “Sent.”

  My phone buzzed in my handbag and I pulled it out. Email. You received a payment from Carl Brooks. Click to accept. I clicked and there was £1000 waiting for me, just like that. My heart stuttered. I had to work weeks for that kind of cash in my regular jobs. I tried to keep a poker face. “Great. Thank you.”

  “That’s just for this weekend,” he said. “If you want to stay, that is.”

  Rick’s hand was on my wrist again. “You don’t have to stay, Katie. Really. Don’t feel obligated. And if you do, there is a spare room, plenty of spare rooms… we’ve got more spare rooms than you can shake a stick at.”

  “I’ll stay,” I said, even though my nerves were skyrocketing. I had an overnight bag in the car, just in case. I looked straight at Carl, begging my heart to still. “Do you want to… shall I, um… now?” I reached around for the zip on my dress, cheeks burning.

  The look he shot me was full of shock, and even a little indignation. “No,” he said. “You don’t seem cheap enough to spread your legs the moment the cash comes out, and we’re certainly not cheap enough to take it that way.”

  I felt strangely taken aback. “I just thought… sorry…”

  His eyes were so hard. “You’re not a prostitute, Katie. I don’t expect you to drop your knickers the minute you walk through the door.”

  I shrivelled under his glare, turning into a gawky little girl. “I thought that maybe… sorry, I misunderstood.”

  Rick groaned, loud enough to get our attention. “Drinks, please…” he said. “For fuck’s sake, let’s get a fucking beer. Jesus Christ.”

  He didn’t even wait for affirmation, just took himself through to the kitchen.

  I was pleased to follow him.

  The atmosphere changed in the kitchen. The air felt lighter, and the evening sun lit up the room through the huge townhouse windows. Rick pulled out a beer and offered me one, but Carl was already at the wine rack, pulling out a bottle of red and holding it up for my approval.

  “A good year,” he said, and uncorked. He poured, and I caught a heady whiff of fruit.

  I took my glass and swirled the wine around, took a sniff. “Nice.”

  A thousand pounds richer. I couldn’t quite believe it. Real money. In my account. I smiled, and I meant it, and then I drank down a large enough glug of my wine that Carl smirked at me.

  Rick hitched himself onto the marble counter, tapping his brogues against the cabinet underneath. “We got off to a weird start,” he said. “We’re really not that bad, I promise. We’re pretty laidback.”

  I didn’t quite believe him, but I smiled anyway. “You have a wonderful place.”

  “That’s down to Rick,” Carl said. “He’s the designer.”

  Rick looked out of the window rather than soak up the praise. “You want anything here, just help yourself. Feel at home. We want you to be comfortable here, don’t we, Carl?”

  Carl sighed, eyes heavy as they met mine. “Yes, yes.” He tipped his head towards Rick. “He’s a free spirit, man. Rick is all about ambience, and communication, and…” He reached behind him and jabbed at some weird grill like contraption. “…shrivelled up tofu crackers. He’s quite the hippy.”

  “Dehydrated,” Rick groaned. “They’re dehydrated.”

  “Whereas I’m a little more, direct. I like to be direct.”

  No shit. I knocked back some more wine. “What else do you do? For fun?”

  “Work,” Carl said. “We work a lot. Work hard. Work smart. Other than that we watch movies, hit the occasional club, hit the occasional tennis court, too. We have a gym in the basement, and a sauna and Jacuzzi. It makes working out a little easier. How about you?”

  Wine made me brave enough to show myself. “I ride,” I said. “Horses. Well, one horse. Samson.” I fought back the urge to whip out the gallery app on my phone and bore them with ten thousand pictures. Now really wasn’t the time.

  They both nodded, a look passing between them.

  “Makes sense,” Carl said. “The horsey type, yes. Very good.”

  “You ride?” I asked.

  “Oh yes, we ride.” His eyes prickled me. “Just not horses.” He wouldn’t stop staring, and his gaze was hot. I took a step back, propping myself against the kitchen island. “So, tell me about Katie Serena Smith. Fresh out of university, a business degree under your belt. What next?”

  I shrugged. “I’m planning on bailing out of the conve
ntional. That’s why I’m here.”

  I had both of their attention.

  Rick held his beer up. “Conventional is overrated. We don’t conform much in this household.”

  “What are you bailing out of?” Carl asked.

  I held up my glass. “The boring. The mundane. The status quo. I studied business because I felt I should get a conventional degree. Now I want to live for me.” I took a breath. “I want my own yard. Just a small affair, maybe six horses. That would do nicely.” It felt weird to share my ambitions so quickly, and part of me twitched inside, twitching at the potential disapproval.

  Carl tapped his fingers against his wine glass, weighing me up. “An eventing yard? Dressage, perhaps?”

  I shook my head. “Neither. Just a little riding school. A couple of horses for a couple of kids, it’s been my dream since I was a little girl.”

  He didn’t look impressed, and I didn’t expect him to. Rick was more forthcoming. He smiled and nodded, and uttered noises of approval.

  “I only have the one horse,” I continued. “But I want that to change, soon. It’s why I’m here.”

  “Money to set up a stable?” Rick asked, not even a hint of condescension in his tone. “That’s really cool.”

  I nodded. “It costs a fair bit, even for such a small scale.”

  Carl pointed a finger in my direction. “You could use your business degree for a few years, build up some real world corporate experience. You could walk into a decent sales or finance training role.”

  I stared at him. Mr Mega Corporate. Stared at the hard lines of him, the promise of steely muscle under his shirt. He worked out a lot, you could tell. He wasn’t all hip and lean like Rick. He was solid. Like a bull. An angry bull. The wine was already hitting me, swishing warm in my stomach, and I tried to imagine him fucking me, his face in mine while he pounded me, the grunts of him as his flesh slapped mine. I wasn’t sure whether the thought thrilled or petrified me. Maybe a bit of both.

  Definitely a bit of both.

  And he’d paid for it in advance. Paid for me.

  I focused back on the conversation. “I could probably toe the corporate line, yes.”