Sugar Baby Beautiful(66)

“I think I love you—” His lips were on mine before I could finish, his tongue in my mouth, my arms wrapping around his neck.

He wasn’t rough. He didn’t try to control me. He wanted to feel me as much as I wanted to feel him.

I guess that’s why it was called making love.



2:13 a.m.

“You really need to sleep.” He kissed the back of my hand as we lay in the middle of the master bed.

Lying on his chest, I listened to his heartbeat, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took.

“What if I fail? What if I fall and embarrass myself, or worse, you?”

“You won’t.”

I sat up. “But what if I do?”

“You won’t,” he replied, and I wanted to smack him. “And if you do, then guess what? It’s only a moment before something else takes over the spotlight. This is Hollywood. You get fifteen minutes of fame or shame and then people move on.”

Frowning, I put my head down. “That doesn’t make me feel better. Urgh, this is going to be bad—”

“Felicity, I’ve seen you. You’re amazing. I know it, the team knows it, and at the end of the night, everyone will know it too.”

“How can you be so calm? It’s a huge night for you too.”

“It’s the sex.” He grinned.

“It was that good, wasn’t it.” I grinned too before laughing. “Let’s say everything goes off with out a hitch tonight. What happens next?”

He pretended to think before grabbing my ass.

“Theo!”

“What happens next? Well, sex is always on the list.”

Rolling my eyes, I moved his hand from my ass to my waist. “Fine. After the sex, what’s going to happen with us?”

“Oh, there is an us now.” He grinned. I tried to spin out of his arms, but he rolled on top of me, holding my arms down beside my head. “After you take everyone’s breath away, and then after I make you scream my name at least a good dozen times, then we do whatever the hell we want to. You want to keep dancing with us, you can. It’s up to you. I’ll date you for a few more weeks before getting you to move in with me and then maybe in a year—you’re panicking.”

“I am not,” I lied.

He shook his head at me. “This is why you shouldn’t ask about what comes next and just worry about what’s happening now.”

“Did you say all that to freak me out?”

He rose off me. “Go to sleep, Felicity.”

I was afraid to sleep. What if the nightmares came back? I didn’t want him to see that side of me. I honestly did wonder if I had any good points at all.



1:10 p.m.

“That’s your speech?” I asked, taking a bite of my oatmeal in the middle of his bed.

“What’s wrong with it?”

I shrugged, taking another bite. “You don’t think it’s kind of, I don’t know… uptight? Especially since you’re trying to get people to donate?”

“That’s Ellen’s job as the host. Mine is to represent Darcy Entertainment.”

“It’s your gala,” I muttered, stuffing my mouth.

He rolled his eyes and handed me the papers. “Fine, genius, since you seem to be able to do everything, you rewrite for me.”

“Me?”

“What? It’s easy to criticize, isn’t it?”

My eyes narrowed before putting the bowl down and taking the papers from his hands. He lay back on the bed, resting against the pillows, arms crossed, watching me.

“Make me want to donate to you.” He reached my bowl.

I outstretched my hands and put on the worst British accent I could muster. “Please, sir, can I have some more?”

“Funny.” He smiled, taking a bite.

“Seriously, start off with what the arts mean to you or something. Like ‘Hello, my name is Theodore Darcy’—”

“And although I’m a billionaire, there are kids out there somewhere who are suffering lack of funding to the arts?” He jumped in sarcastically.

“Yeah, but cut out the billionaire part. It makes you sound pretentious.” I reached over to him to take my bowl back.

“You haven’t written my speech yet.”

“Whatever, I was wrong. I have no idea what you should say. Just make it sound real, like you really need to raise money instead of showing of your company’s talent,” I said, taking a seat beside him. Picking up my cell phone, I checked but still didn’t see any text from Cleo. We always tried to settle our fights quickly, or it got out of hand and neither of us would cave in nor speak to each other until Mark finally jumped in.

“What’s wrong?”