6. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Emery
Oakley not only lent me several sundresses—cute little floral things that barely covered my ass and had my boobs pouring out of the top—but she also supplied a pair of ballet flats and a set of heels. Very conveniently, we wear the same size shoe.
The little baby-pink rolling suitcase that I pull out of the back of the cab is also courtesy of Oakley, as is the little handbag I have hanging from my shoulder. I’m really going to have to thank her somehow after all of this. She’s basically bankrolling my start into this sugar baby thing. All she asks in return is that I message her every few hours and that I dry clean anything of hers that I wear, besides shoes.
“Thank you,” I call into the interior of the white sedan, then close the door, having already organized payment with a tip. I’ve never had enough fucking cash to pay someone, let alone tip.
The last sixteen hours have been a complete mindfuck.
From one dollar and six cents in my bank account, to a pending transfer of ten thousand. And just over one hundred left from the bills Oaks loaned me.
Imagine if Tray could see me now. His dark brown, narrow eyes would be glinting with all the ways he could spend my money.
A slimy feeling unfurls inside of me at the thought. If he knew how much money I could make from the app, I’m sure he would find a way to monetize it to support his issues. And I would let him because he was there for me in the exact moment that I needed him. He saved me.
But not anymore. I’m distancing myself from all of that.
Fresh start.
I’m getting out. I’m getting my degree. I’ll get my CPA. I’ll get my steady, stable accounting job. I’ll buy my own little house with a little fence and a little garden, get a little white cat, and everything will be easy.
Last night and this weekend are just going to make achieving my goals that much easier, because now, I won’t need a part-time job to subsidize my student loans.
Turning, I look at the building in front of me, slowly tilting my head to take in the sheer size of the thing. Tall, white, with the vast majority of the windows darkened. Not many other details are available, except for the golden glow of lighting around the front door and the obvious fact it was built in the last decade.
Inhaling so deeply that I’m worried about the seams of the dress I’m wearing, I stride forward in my borrowed ballet flats, dragging my borrowed bag filled with its borrowed clothing.
The rhythmic thunk of the wheels hitting the cracks in the pavement helps keep my heart calm as the glass sliding doors loom ever larger. I maneuver up and over the little ramp beneath the overhang and pause in front of the doors.
They don’t whoosh open.
Maybe the little camera thing didn’t register me?
I take a couple of steps back and then approach again.
Same result.
I glance around the doorway, awkwardness crawling up my neck as I try to figure out how to deal with this. Surely, they wouldn’t have given me the wrong address?
Just as I spot a security panel to the left that has a security call button, movement on the other side of the door catches my attention.
Angel—no, wait. Darcy.
He’s in the same button-up and suit combo he wore at the hotel tonight, not that I really took much notice earlier. But now I do.
Not-quite-black, unbuttoned suit jacket to show the white-with-black-pinstripe shirt, black jeans, and sneakers. For an old guy, he’s actually pretty trendy. It helps that he is hot as fuck, in a pirate kind of way. His long brown hair is once again pulled back into a bun, which just makes me want to mess it up. Thin lips framed by a dark brown beard smirk back at me. I can easily see him leaning against a fuck off expensive car, aviators covering his eyes while a camera clicks in his face.
I finally force my gaze back up to his face. His dark blue eyes twinkle, and there is a smirk on his lips as he stops close to a similar security panel to the one on my side of the door.
Embarrassment wants to pour itself down my body at having been caught checking him out, but I refuse to let it. I’m not a blushing wallflower, like some of my favorite romance novel characters. No, I’m more like a badass FMC in a romantasy. Kick-ass and take charge.
Darcy holds a sleek black card up to the security panel. A second later, the glass doors open and cool air-conditioned air kisses my skin.
He stands there, watching me, and the awkwardness returns.
“Hey,” I say as I break eye contact, dropping my attention to his mouth.
The smirk stretches across his lips and converts to a grin. “Come here, princess.”
My heart stumbles over a beat at the use of the nickname he gave me earlier tonight. Darcy holds out a hand, and I have to breach the entryway to slip my hand into his. As soon as his fingers close over mine, he applies gentle pressure, drawing me in until our bodies are pressed together and he is able to wrap his other arm around my waist.
Our height difference is very noticeable, with me in flats, and I have to tilt my head almost all the way back to look up at him. His shoulders relax as I place my hand against his chest and hold on to the fabric, praying he can’t feel how fast my heart is beating.
Darcy’s stare is intense. I have no idea what he is looking for, so I stare back and hope he finds it. Slowly, his smile returns, then he glances down at my lips.
Oh, I know that signal.
Raising my chin, I offer my lips to him, and he immediately lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is slow, nothing but the moving of our lips, like he is savoring this almost-PG moment with me, and I am totally here for it.
He breaks the kiss after only a few seconds, and it’s only then that I realize my eyelids have fluttered shut. I open them, and he reaches up to brush a few strands of hair behind my ear. The act is so unexpected, but so completely welcome. I can’t really think of the last time someone touched me like that, with nothing but care.
“Thank you for accepting the second invitation,” he says softly, a direct contrast to the intensity in his gaze. Like he wants to devour me right here in the doorway of his building.
All I manage is a nod because there is a massive lump in my throat.
When has anyone looked at me like this?
Never, that I can remember.
Darcy slides his hand from my waist and links our fingers together. “Let me show you the apartment.”
He reaches for my suitcase, and I wordlessly hand it over, still having way too many feelings about a simple look.
This is temporary. Temporary. The look is nothing but a man horny for a woman he is interested in. Nothing more. It’s definitely not a romantic look.
For fuck’s sake, he had his dick sandwiched with one of his friends’ dicks inside of me only a few hours ago. He just wants to do that again this weekend, probably more than once.
This is merely a weekend of fucks. No romance to be seen here.
Get it together, Emery.
Darcy leads me around a slight curve in the cream-tiled foyer toward a bank of elevators. The curve opens to a security desk, and there is a man younger and thicker than Darcy sitting there. His haircut screams military, and the way he looks at me makes me feel the tiniest bit uncomfortable. Like he thinks I’m up to no good or something.
After the stony-faced full-body scan he gives me, he up nods Darcy, and there is no further interaction with the man. An elevator opens immediately after Darcy presses the button, and we step in.
I follow him in, but when I turn to face the front, Darcy stops me. He makes himself comfortable against the far wall, then pulls me to stand between his legs. I hesitantly reach up and wrap my arms around his shoulders as he swipes his card against another panel and then selects the nineteenth floor.
The doors close behind us, and the elevator starts to move.
Darcy doesn’t say anything to me as he pulls out his phone, thumb roving over the screen for a few seconds before locking it and shoving it back into his pocket.
A second later, I feel my phone vibrate in the little purse bag. Pulling it out, I see that I have two SugarLife notifications.
SugarLife
$10,000 has been gifted to you from Brat4Us. You can find your gift in your Vault.
SugarLife
Your vault balance is $20,000.
Let the weekend begin.