Sugar Daddy (20 page)

He wouldn’t. He’d never, yet my eyes fell on the couple outside, embroiled in a tense discussion.

“You think he’s a savior? Ha! He’s double-dealt more companies than me. Why do you think I keep him around? Kid’s got killer instincts.” He shook his head, as if in awe of Reardon’s rapacious skill. “Shark in the boardroom, lady killer in the bedroom, know what I mean?”

When I remained silent, a snide look spread across his face. “Oh,” he chuckled, “Oh my.” He collapsed back in laughter. “You don’t know what I mean at all, do you? What’s stopping you from putting out,
hmm?
Worried you won’t be good enough, seeing as he’s a professional fucker? Think once he gets a taste, you won’t have anything to hold over him?”

I slumped into a chair, overcome by his cruel perception.

Quaffing his drink, he sought to finish me off. “You gonna go cry to your sugar daddy now?”

This was what he did, this was what Slaughter was good at. Finding a weakness, exploiting it.

I fired back to my feet. “I didn’t come into this needin’ to be saved. Got church for that.” I leaned over him. “But let me take a stab at you.”
With my glare, since I don’t have a big, sharp knife handy.
“Got tired of bein’ a tiny tadpole in a big pond. Discovered you could gain power over those better than you by bein’ a complete and utter dickhead, second nature to scum like you. You pretend to help, even while digging for weaknesses. You’re not only an asshole, but a traitor.”

His face bunched briefly before he returned to studied indifference.

“Hate’s the only talent at your disposal, and I imagine it’s beginnin’ to bother you. Truth is, you’re not worth my time. I’ve wasted enough on y’all.” I moved toward the ballroom.

“You got spunk, which is gonna make your downfall even more fun.” He searched for another vein to tap. “You should really do lunch with me and Leila sometime. I’m sure we could straighten you out.”

“
Thanks, but I’d rather give myself a Brazilian with a pair of safety scissors than sit across from you two under any circumstances.”

Our tete-a-fuck-you was blessedly interrupted when Slaughter stood, smartly saluting someone behind me. “Admiral Hightower.”

“Lieutenant Slaughter, forgotten protocol?”

I was completely and totally in love with this man. I was ready to ditch Reardon and jump on the good ship Hightower.

Slaughter’s pitted face turned the color of tripe under the Admiral’s military inspection.

Awesome
.

“Sir, please meet Miss Greer, of the Motte family.”

Oh yeah, I was so loving this
.

“A pleasure, Miss Greer.” He moved as if to jerk a scabbard aside, the missing weaponry a part of his body. Dressed in pure white, a full regiment of medals laid in a row over his chest, he lowered over my hand, which rose of its own accord.

“Admiral.” I attempted a curtsey.

“Don’t stand on ceremony, please call me Ellegee.”

My relief multiplied with his frosty dismissal of Slaughter. “You may leave us.” The Admiral sat down. “He is not a man of honor.”

Amen.

“Not a McClellanville lass, are you?” He felt around his uniform absently and came up with a rich-smelling cigar he snuck under his nose to sniff with a connoisseur’s satisfaction.

“No, sir. Old Mount Pleasant stock.”

“Good people from The Village.”

“And you?”

“I believe you’ve already met my daughter, Leila.”

I stood to leave.

“Now, now, don’t be hasty, Miss Greer. Leila’s my flesh and blood, but I’m fully aware she can rub one the wrong way.” He struck a match and it flared before us. “Nevertheless, she is mine. And for a brief time I was fortunate to enough to call Reardon my son.”

Snagging a glass from a tray, permitting the staffer to depart, he handed me the drink. Silent communion burbled like the fizzy bubbles between us.

“I believe the buffet’s started.” The Admiral unfolded his large frame and presented the crook of his arm. “Would you care to accompany me?”

At the serving station, a full complement of fresh seafood, fried green tomatoes, and a variety of gourmet tidbits waited, but my stomach was too jumpy.

“Admiral.” My plus-one appeared, his fingertip tracing my bare shoulders. He just couldn’t get a handle on the no-touchy-feely thing. “I see you’ve met Shay.”

“Indeed, and I’m quite taken with her.”

“As am I.” To me, Reardon said, “I’ve got a few more guests to attend to.” He doffed his head to the older man. “If you’ll excuse me, sir.”

Cash and Jane joined our table and dinner was awkward as hell. Let’s see, there was my new BFF who also happened to be my lover’s sister on one side of me, and on the other was said lover’s ex-pa-in-law. Compulsive throat clearing, aborted conversations, and shuffling of the extensive dinnerware almost pushed me over the deep end.

Excusing myself to the powder room, I considered camping out for the remainder of the festivities. Fresh lipstick and a pep talk later, I returned to the reception in time to see Reardon standing in front of his latest acquisition, commanding the gathered arts patrons’ attention.

The large black and white photograph showed a Gullah man riding a rusty bike by the side of the road, rounding a creek at high tide. A bundle of sweetgrass lashed to the handlebars. The wrinkles of his smile were deep as the creekbed during a drought. The gleam in his dark eyes, merry, his teeth a little jumbled. A poignant portrait of lowcountry life.

Reardon called for silence in his deep voice. “Some of you may wonder why I’m introducing our talented artist at the end of this fete,”–
fete,
so that was the official name for this high-class hoedown. “It might even seem a bit backwards–”

“Y’all always did like to do things ass-to-front, Reardon,” Cash shouted.

“Thank you, Cash.” He swiped a hand across his grin. “Friends, family.” He paused. “The filthy rich.” There were roars of laughter. “Now that you’ve been fed and watered, it’s time to open your wallets for the Gibbes Museum.

“I present to you the very talented, local-grown artist, Jeremy Ladson.” He welcomed a young black man to his side, whispering words they both laughed at before he scanned the crowd, stopping at me.

Applause flooded around me. I went one better with a whistle worthy of a construction worker. Jostling the throng aside, Reardon approached, looking far too fine and totally on fire for me. He was making a mess of this incognito gig.

In danger of my body melting and my resolve crumbling, I aimed to deflect his provocative intentions. “My Lord, that Jeremy’s somethin’ else, isn’t he?” I kept my eyes on Mr. Ladson’s sharp features and the glint of a silver tongue piercing peeking against his dusky lips.

Success. Reardon stopped in his tracks. “Excuse me?”

“Hush up now, I was just admiring his work. You have some already, in your office?”

“Yes, you like it?”

I nodded.

“You like him?”

Trying very, very hard not to snort, I brought him down to me so I could whisper oh so quietly, “Whose desk was I spread out all over yesterday?”

Arousal ricocheted between us.

“Hmm
.
”

“Whose bed will I sleep in tonight?”

“Sweet hell,” Reardon whispered.

Oops, distraction backfired.

I stared at him, possibly licking my lips when…

Flash.

Brilliant white light blinded me.

I froze and Reardon sprang at the journalist, confiscating the camera, smoothly promising its return with the photos he approved. It wasn’t their low, quick conversation grabbing my interest, but Leila. The ugly facade fell while she watched Reardon’s actions. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widened. Turning to me, she snapped her lips shut, eyes flashing from disbelief to cold, undiluted hate.

Now that right there was an evil bitch
.

And I was the freakin’ Virgin Mary next to her.

An air of abandonment echoed around the beautiful rooms once emptied of guests.

Relief sapped the last of my grit, leaving me vulnerable.

Jane, Leila, all the ugly things Slaughter had said.

I just wanted Reardon.

Of the same mind, he led me to the bedroom, switching off lights as we went.

The repercussions would come later.

Chapter 9

Profits and Losses

Gown unzipped, falling softly to the floor.

The corset opened slowly, Reardon unwrapping a present.

The snap of garters hitting my thighs.

The whip of the tie pulled from his collar.

Buttons spraying when I wrenched his shirt open.

Hands desperately tangling my hair, trousers pushed down his legs.

Water sluicing over us inside the shower, steam thick as cotton clinging to our skin.

Rivulets followed by open mouths, sucking lips, flicking tongues.

My back arching with the fierce tug of his teeth on my nipples, the broad swipe of his tongue lapping.

Hands clasping, grabbing, stroking.

The sleek slap of our bodies grinding.

My leg hiked up, his fingers inside me, slowly rolling in and out.

My hands around his cock, twisting with the thrust of his hips.

His harsh yell and pulsing shaft jumping in my fists. Come pearling, washed away by jets of water.

His mouth pulling hard at my breasts, thumb drumming my swollen flesh, his fingers curling, fucking me relentlessly.

Splintering apart, braced between him and tiles, lips parted for moans as my body shattered in a breathtaking orgasm.

As soon as my climax cooled, my anger fired, all the shocking events of the night inciting me. I covered myself with a towel. “You talk to Slaughter about me?”

“What?”

“Slaughter, he said you talked about me.”

Hastily drying himself, he swept back his wet hair. “No, I never did. I wouldn’t.” He stroked my cheek.

I turned my head.

“What’d he say?”

“You’d get bored with me. It’s about the chase, same as your business.”

A frustrated expletive escaped him. “What were you doing speaking to him anyway?”

Let’s see, he ambushed me while you were outside cozying up to Leila.
“How can you associate with that dirtbag?”

“How can you stay married to a man you don’t love?” He hit me where it really hurt.

My stinging slap left a satisfying mark on his cheek. “You son of a bitch.”

The towel flung at him, I hauled on my gown, tugging the zipper, ripping at the choker around my neck. “How long are you gonna fob me off?”

Prowling the room, he asked, “How long are you going make me wait to fuck you?”

“Maybe if you’d start talkin’!” I headed to the door.

He was there before me, blocking it with his arm.

“You can’t keep me here.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Shit, Shay.” His voice was barely audible. “I wanted you to be mine, for one night.”

“Not good enough. You do not get to treat me like crap just because I’m bought and paid for. Paradin’ me around in front of Leila, your sister, your goddamn father-in-law!”

His head snapped back. “Jesus. That wasn’t my intention. I didn’t expect Leila. I can’t remember the last time I saw her. As for Jane, how was I to know?”

“The Admiral?”

“I respect him, and I wanted you to meet him, that’s all. I didn’t think about it from your perspective.”

“Fucking clearly.” I shoved him. “You wanted to what? Show me off? What am I to you?”