Sugar Baby Chronicles: Aimes

I felt my lips moving, but I didn't know what I was saying.

Then she looked up, her gaze finding mine in the low light.

I took the final step towards the table.

She didn't say hello.

Neither did I.

I simply stared, wondering why on earth, how on earth, this woman needed to get on an app to find company and companionship. Hell, I'd lick her boots for free. I might even pay her for the honor.

"...I'll be at the bar."

I felt myself nodding, but I couldn't seem to tear myself away from her gaze, so openly assessing as they raked down my torso, then back up my face.

My cheeks heated in a flush I couldn't control.

She gestured to the chair with a slight movement of her chin.

Sit.

I sat, dropping onto the surprisingly plush patio chair with little grace.

She leaned back, seemingly at ease, picking up the glass again, swirling its contents as she assessed me.

Then she spoke. "Is that your girlfriend by the bar?"

I tried to speak but my throat tightened to a bottleneck at the sound of her voice, rich and honeyed like someone used to giving orders. Or having their orders obeyed.

I simply shook my head.

"You sure?" she asked, her gaze leaving me for a second. "She's watching us very closely."

"She's worried about me."

Shit. My voice sounded like the croak of a drain frog.

A perfectly arched brow rose. "Why is she worried?"

I curled my hands into fists in my lap. "I've, uh, never done this before."

Something shifted in her eyes, darkening in the low light.

"I noticed you had no reviews."

I fidgeted on the chair. "You didn't either."

She licked her lips, raising her glass to them again.

I cleared my throat. "So you haven't, um, haven't done this too?"

"No."

"Then... why me?"

The question brought a smile to her lips—one that could easily be confused as a smirk.

"Why not you?" she asked, flashing a row of even teeth.

"I just... I'm a little confused." I looked down at my hands, wondering if I was breaking any of the rules Niko had mentioned earlier. There seemed to be a lot of them.

She raised that single arched brow. "Would you like a glass of wine while we sort out this confusion of yours?"

"Yes, please. And water."

She raised her glass and tapped her index finger to it. Within a minute, an identical glass was set in front of me and the waiter rattled off some rubbish about its origins that went past my head.

As he waited, I took an obligatory sip that I barely tasted, murmuring, "Delicious."

"We'll have Evian as well, Richard. Thank you." She paused, turning back to me. "Now, what exactly is confusing you?"

"I thought I was being catfished," I blurted, and that smirk/smile tugged at her lips again.

"Why?"

"Because." I grappled for the right words, but only came up with, "Have you seen you?"

She only made a noise—a cross between agreement and 'go on'.

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you need the app at all?"

She set her glass down, lacing her fingers through one another, the lamplight playing over her features.

"I don't have time to date," she said, tapping her index finger against the back of her hand. "Swiping through Tinder or Bumble or whatever... that'll never work."

"Are you looking for something in particular?" I asked, genuinely curious now as I charted the way her lips moved as she spoke.

"Perhaps."

Her gaze lingered against mine for a few moments.

"Tell me something about you. Ayme, is it?"

I nodded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even get your name," I said, taking another sip of my wine.

"Mira."

"So Ananda is your last name?"

"Yes."

"What do you do for a living?"

That finger began tapping again. "I believe I asked you first."

"Oh, well," I sipped on the chilled wine, clutching the glass as though I could draw some much-needed strength from it. "I'm a finance major at NYU, graduating in the fall. I play a lot of video games, particularly RPG. I watch a lot of anime."

Oh god, was I really sitting at a swanky restaurant telling this woman how much of a weeb I was?

On her part, she didn't seem to react outwardly to my statement. She simply watched me with those inscrutable dark eyes as my own gaze moved over her face, trying to find one flaw. One imperfection.

"Mmmm."

She made a humming noise at the back of her throat.

"I work at Starbucks part-time."

"Are you from the city?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"I was born in Singapore—my mother is Singaporean Chinese. She met my dad when he was over there for a business exchange. When I was two, they moved the family to Boston—that's where my dad is originally from. I lived there until I moved out here for college."

"So your parents still live in Boston?"

I could already imagine Niko yelling at me: Ask about the client's life! Don't talk about yours!

"Yes and no. My parents have been separated for the last couple of years. My dad still lives in our old apartment but my mom moved back to Singapore to take care of my grandma."

"That must be hard."

For the first time, I noticed something soft in her gaze, a mellowing of the lines around her mouth.

"Yes, but wait. I'm supposed to talk about you, right?"

Now she was amused.

"I don't know, are you?"

"Well, yeah... I'm sure you didn't pay so much money just to hear me talk about myself."

A corner of her lips crooked upwards. "I think your adorable floundering is worth my money."

My adorable floundering?

Someone just kill me.

I reached for the wine again, needing something to distract me from the insistent burning of my cheeks.

"Maybe..." I cleared the cobwebs in my throat. "Maybe you should tell me a little about yourself."

"What would you like to know?"

"Um, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a publisher. I produce digital magazines for beauty brands."

"Oh."

Should I tell her she looked the part?

The wine was zipping through my body, warming me up pretty quickly even with the insistent breeze. I unbuttoned the blazer and laid it on the back of my chair, knowing that she was watching me, tracking my every movement.

"Why did you choose the beauty industry?"

She cleared her throat, finishing the last bit of wine in her glass. "It's not something I chose. I got my degree in literature when I was a little younger than you. No one else was hiring except Conrad Media, so I started as a Junior Writer with a pittance for a paycheck."

"And now you're a publisher at the same company?"

"Exactly. After almost fifteen years."

"How'd you do it?" I asked, unable to keep my fascination out of my voice.

"Ambition, I suppose. I knew what I wanted and couldn't settle for less. I have a tendency to obsess, which is great for the publication, but detrimental to my personal life."

"Isn't that empowering? I envy people who know what they want and go for it. Most days, I can't even decide what to have for dinner, much more what I want to do with my life."

Something shifted in her eyes.

"So you'd rather have someone make decisions for you?"

I let out a breath like a deflating balloon, the mere thought of letting go of the decision-making burden easing the tension along my shoulders.

"That sounds like a dream. It takes the pressure off, you know?"

"Do you cook?"

The random question made me pause.

"Uh, yeah. My mom taught me. I'm not professional or anything, but I can cook a lot of Asian dishes."

"Mmm."

That humming noise again, as though she was evaluating my words.

"Any dietary restrictions?"

I shook my head and she raised a hand, getting the attention of our waiter.

"Ask Edoardo to send us anything he recommends," she said. "And a bottle of wine for the table, please. Whatever pairs best with the food."

"Right away, ma'am"

As he walked away, I said, "You come here often."

She nodded. "I have an account here for client meetings. It's not my favorite spot in the city, but it's high on the list."

"I've never been up here before," I said, looking out into the skyline. "Can't say I'm a 'wine-and-dine' type of person, but I do like to cafe hop sometimes."

"I used to write top ten lists for cafes when I was younger. They all blurred into an indecipherable blob after a while."

I tilted the last sip of wine to my lips, leaning back against the chair, feeling my body relax a little more.

"You talk about the past like it was a long time ago, but you don't look old enough for that."

That brief smirk again. "I'm fourteen years older than you, Ayme. I remember a time with pagers and answering machines."

I shrugged. "Does the age thing bother you? Because it's nothing but a plus for me."

"Is it?"

I nodded. "There's a sense of comfort in knowing there's someone more... I'm losing the word... maybe experienced? Yeah, maybe. It's nice to have someone experienced looking out for you."

"So you've only dated older women before?"

"Um, no. Not really. Just women my age. I've been dating on and off for years but it's never really clicked, you know?"

"Why didn't it click?"

I shrugged, thanking Richard as he placed a platter of starters on the table.

"I think women expect certain things from me. I'm masc, I'm supposed to take the lead on certain things. But I'm not like that. I don't like making decisions, even if it's something simple like where we're going for dinner. I think it irritates people that I'm not as advertised on the package."

"I think you are."

Her words made me pause as I reached for a dome-shaped entree.

"You do?"

"I expected to be entertained and I certainly am."

I couldn't hide my pleased blush.

"Okay, then I have an idea."

I popped the entree in my mouth, tasting truffle and mushroom. Pretty good.

She made that humming noise again—I was beginning to realize it could mean many things, but this time, it meant continue.

"What if I pretended to be your girlfriend for the rest of the evening? Kind of like roleplaying?"

A sharp brow rose in my direction.

"Would that make you more comfortable being here with me?"

I nodded.

Her shoulders moved almost imperceptibly. "Sure."

I reached into my pocket. "Hang on a minute."

She watched as I texted Niko as quickly as I could, telling her I was all right and she could go home. I even turned in my chair to wave at her. In response, Niko drained her glass and gave me a thumbs up.

"I think I don't need Nik on bodyguard duty anymore," I said, turning back to my date.

"Why not?"

"You don't seem like the type to kidnap me." I popped another tiny entree into my mouth.

She gave me an odd look.

"Oh, but if you are, please ask my consent first. Sometimes I could be in the mood to be kidnapped."

A flash of surprise flickered across her face before her features changed, softening as a husky laugh overtook the table. I wasn't prepared for how those notes landed in my gut like an unsuspecting punch.

It wasn't just the laugh—it was the fact that she was laughing at something I said. The very idea that I had the power to make this stoic, stern woman melt into soft laughter... that made me feel invincible.

I felt my spine straighten a little as I reached for the glass of water and took a congratulatory sip.

"So," I said, leaning back against the chair. "How was your day, my little pumpkin squash?"

Damn if that didn't make her laugh even harder, the lines around her mouth deepening like a shallow trench I wanted to immerse myself in.

"You're ridiculous," she said with a flash of her teeth.

I shrugged. "Life's too short for boring ol' nicknames, you know?"

"Sure is, sweetcheeks."

I pursed my lips, mulling that term. "I think you can do better than that."

"Whatever you say, sugar tits."

I nodded in agreement. "Now we're talkin'."

"You're not what I expected." She regarded me with laughter lingering in her eyes, glimmering like dark cocoa under the lamplight.

"Neither are you. Well, mostly cause I thought you were a catfish situation."

"I take it there aren't many women on that app?"

"Nope, at least according to Niko."

"I think I've seen your friend on the app before," she said, idly slicing a wedge of crumbly cheese.

I paused. "And? Niko is most people's idea of a good time. You didn't make an offer?"

She followed that bite of cheese with a sip of wine. "She's not my type."

I moistened my bottom lip. "Am I? Your type I mean."

She didn't miss a beat. "Yes."

I couldn't help the pleased blush that reddened my cheeks, and I knew she noticed.

"I don't particularly have a type myself. Niko calls my dating history 'experimental'. I don't really know what I want so I pretty much just trial and error. Mostly error."

She took another bite of cheese, her gaze moving over me assessingly. I fought not to squirm, crossing my legs and keeping them in that position with the sheer force of my will.

"I'm tired of error," I confessed, my gaze on the dark table.

"What are you looking for, babygirl?"

I thought she was going back to the game of nicknames, but when I looked up, her eyes didn't hold that hint of laughter.

Oh god. She was serious.

She'd really called me babygirl.

A little burst of pleasure coiled low in my belly and a smile tugged at my lips. Who the hell would've guessed I'd genuinely like a nickname like that?

I reached for my wine to hide the smile that was slowly becoming goofy.

"I guess I just want someone who makes me feel safe, you know? Someone I don't have to second guess all the time, who accepts me as I am and doesn't push me to do things I'm not comfortable with."

"Partners in your past have made you do things you're not comfortable with?" Her brows knotted, as though she was irritated by the mere idea of it.

"Sometimes, yes. I'm not the most confident person, so even the littlest things like sending food back can make me extremely anxious." I picked at the fabric on my pants. "I guess you can see how that would irritate people."

"On the contrary."

My gaze shot up to hers.

"What?"

"Maybe you're more suited to a different relationship dynamic. Perhaps your previous partners were looking for an equal balance of power. But you're actually looking to be taken care of."

Fuuuuck. She was uncannily perceptive.

I reached for a joke so it wouldn't seem so scary: "You can just call me a bottom, you know. I won't be offended."

"Are you a bottom?"

I looked away briefly. "Yes."

"Does that... Are you... okay with that?" I struggled to get those words out.

A corner of her lips crooked upwards in a smirk. "I wouldn't be here otherwise."

*

I didn't realize how much time had passed until we were the only ones left on the patio. The constant flow of food and wine and conversation blurred away the hours until it was way past midnight.

"I believe I only booked you until eleven."

My shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I don't really care about that."

As Richard returned her credit card, she lifted her napkin from her lap and dropped it onto the table.

"Let me book you an Uber home."

"That's okay. I'll get the subway. It's not far."

"I'm getting you an Uber."

Her voice brook no rebuttals and I let her have her way.

She stood, reaching for her jacket, and I did the same.

Oh wow.

I hadn't realized how tall she was, towering over me in those skinny heels. From this angle, I could step straight into the warm cove of her breasts and press my face into the deep crevice. I wondered if they would part to welcome me then swallow me whole.

Okay, it was becoming blatantly obvious that I'd watched too much anime.

But it was still tempting. So incredibly tempting.

I had to force my gaze away and shrug into my blazer.

There were still a few people lingering by the bar and we strode past them to the elevator.

Her hand was dangling by her side and before I could overthink it, I slid mine into hers, stepping close.

She stared at me, unblinking.

"I-Is this okay?" I stammered, wondering if I'd broken another one of Niko's precious rules.

The elevator doors parted with a ding and she tugged me inside, barely waiting for it to close before she shoved me against the side, taking my lips in one quick dip.

Holy shit.

I was struggling to keep my thoughts together—the feeling of right, good, perfect taking over the part of my brain that was meant for logical thinking.

She tasted like deep red wine and the chocolate we'd had for dessert, and I wanted to climb her like a tree and cling to her shoulders... let her do anything she wanted to me.

The way she handled me, like a toy under her fingers, was making me pulse and ache. It seemed so easy for her—as though she already knew what I wanted. How to touch me, taste me, make me purr under her lips.

This is what I needed. Someone to take control of my pleasure. Use me. Plunder my lips like it was her source of life.

I needed all of this, and more. More of her.

She pulled back barely an inch.

"Book your Uber now, babygirl," she murmured against my tingling lips. "Go home."

I made a sound of protest that sounded suspiciously like a whine. "Not yet. Please."

"Why not?"

My fingers found the edges of her jacket, holding on tight. Tugging. "Will you take me home with you?"

"Are you sure?"

She pulled back further and a quick zip of pleasure rippled through me at the sight of our mingled saliva on her bottom lip.

"This is a decision I'm one hundred percent sure of," I promised, yearning to press close to her. "Please kiss me again."

Before she could respond, the elevator doors slid open, intruding on our little bubble.

My fingers found hers again, tugging her out the small space.

"Tell me you live close by?" I questioned hopefully as we hurried out of the lobby, her heels clicking on the hard surface.

She nodded, fingers tightening on mine. "Three blocks."

"I don't think I can wait three blocks," I admitted as we stepped onto the sidewalk.

"Be patient, babygirl." Her gaze sparked in the dim streetlight. "I promise it'll be worth it."

*

I managed to get a brief glimpse of exposed brick, clean lines and glass, before a single word stopped me in my tracks.

"Strip."

My breath caught in my throat as she towered over me, the glow of the low-hanging lights in her apartment playing across her face.

I couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

She was too close, her deep floral scent swirling around me like a cage.

I wanted nothing more than to take a step forward and plunge my face between her breasts, resting there as though they were pillows meant only to comfort me.

"If you want to leave—"

I didn't let her finish that sentence.

My blazer landed on the wood floors with an unimportant rustle, and I relished the hunger that seared in her eyes.

Hunger for me. Me.

This beautiful woman who could make rows of heads turn in any room was hungry for me.

It was almost unbelievable.

Yet I felt the truth of it in the coiling of my stomach, the sudden desire to appease that hunger. Whatever she asked of me... I'd do it.

Whatever she wanted.

The top slid over my head, joining the blazer on the floor, and I didn't waste any time shoving my pants down to my ankles and kicking them aside.

Even though Niko said it didn't matter, I was now glad I'd worn my best set of underwear: black briefs with a pink trim and a matching sports bra. No holes.

"Let me see you."

A question that was really a command.

I felt her hand on my waist as she lifted me onto her counter, putting us almost at eye level.

Now it was my turn under the low lights, the amber glow dancing over my skin as lightly as her fingers.