Would that make my secretary a late bloomer of sorts, and it's only when she hit her adult years that she's started to yearn for something forbidden—-like having a sugar daddy to dote on her?
The more I think about it, the more my theory makes sense.
My secretary is the type of woman who likes to be in control, and she's likely to find men her age too immature and unreliable. Men who are older, on the other hand...
Mary's expression turns anxious when she sees my gaze narrow. "I know you have every reason to think the worst of me, Mr. Verhoff, but if you could just let me explain—-"
"If there's one thing I'd like you to explain," I drawl, "it's why you think I'm not your type. Is it because you think I'm too young and thus incapable of being the ideal sugar daddy?"
Mary vigorously shakes her head. "It's not like that—-"
"Isn't it?"
"Mr. Verhoff, it's truly not—-"
"I have to admit all of this has come as a surprise," I cut in musingly. "But then again, maybe I should've expected it. I've always found you remarkably hard to read."
"M-Me?"
"Yes, Mary. You."
"But I'm just me—-"
"Just you being you is what makes you mysterious," I murmur. "I've always thought of you as this intriguing little gift I'm meant to unwrap and taste—-"
My perfect secretary reveals a not-so-perfect side of her as she lets out a squawking sound of shock, but strangely enough, I find her reaction surprisingly...cute.
"Have I shocked you?"
Mary nods vigorously, and I look at her with sham sympathy. "I'm sorry about that...but I'm afraid you'll just have to get used to it—-"
Mary's eyes widen.
"Because I plan to do a lot more shocking things from here on. Things that are very, very bad—-"
Mary lets out another horrible sound that I still find fucking adorable...and so damn hot I'm just dying to haul her to my lap so I can start doing all those bad things that have been tormenting my thoughts since Friday evening.
"I can't believe this is happening," she whispers.
"But it is, and that's why I want you to tell me exactly what you want from a sugar daddy," I say invitingly.
Mary looks at me like I've just grown a pair of horns—-from my nostrils, and my lips press together in an effort to suppress my smile.
"Whatever it is you're looking for, I'm absolutely certain I'm more than capable of giving it."
Mary starts shaking her head again. "You can't be serious—-"
"I've never been more serious in my life. I want you to be my spoiled little princess—-"
She lets out an embarrassed cry, and the sound is so damn cute I want to hear it again, preferably with Mary naked under me.
"—-and in return, I'll become the best fucking sugar daddy you can ever ask for."
Mary
Am I dreaming?
Did Stone just say he's going to be the best sugar daddy I can ever ask for?
I'm confused, shocked, and just a little frightened, but Stone simply gazes back at me like he hasn't told me anything world-shattering.
The Stone I know isn't the type to do anything outrageous, and can there anything be more outrageous than asking your secretary what she wants from a sugar daddy?
"This is a joke, isn't it?" I blurt out. "You're playing a prank on me. Aren't you?"
"Do I seem like the type I'd joke about this?"
No, he doesn't...but neither have I ever thought him to be the type to want the role of a sugar daddy.
"I just don't understand." I hate that I keep repeating the same words, but my brain is a complete mess, and all I'm able to do is state the obvious. "This is more Mr. Verhaege's style than yours—-"
"Is it?"
"Yes," I say vehemently. The dating app might refer to its female members as 'baby girls', but it should be clear as day to anyone that the term's only a euphemism for mistress, and we both know mistresses have always been Nic's thing, not his.
"I suppose you're right," Stone acknowledges.
I breathe a sigh of relief. I knew it. This is nothing but a prank—-
"Taking the role of a sugar daddy has never occurred to me, but if being one means I get you in my bed..."
My lungs stop working again, and the purring tone of Stone's voice has set every inch of my body on fire.
I've only heard him use that tone once, and at that time, he was speaking to the woman he had been bedding.
So for him to use it now, and to me—-does that mean I'm that woman now?
I look at him, and I still can't believe it. "Are you saying you want to bed...me?"
"I'm saying I want to fuck you."
Oh my Lord.
I've been in love with him for years, but I've never once felt he was the slightest bit attracted to me.
He says he's always thought of me as this "mysterious gift" he's meant to unwrap and taste, but he never did make a move to unwrap or taste anything.