SO RIGHT: A Sugar Baby Novella Read online

  SO RIGHT

  A Sugar Baby Novella

  Rebekah Weatherspoon

  A Rebekah Weatherspoon Presents

  Contents

  Also by Rebekah Weatherspoon

  Praise for Rebekah’s Work

  About This Book

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Want More From Rebekah?

  About the Author

  Copyright

  WOCINROMANCE

  Also by Rebekah Weatherspoon

  STAND ALONE TITLES

  The Fling

  At Her Feet

  Treasure

  VAMPIRE SORORITY SISTERS

  Better Off Red

  Blacker Than Blue

  Soul To Keep

  THE FIT TRILOGY

  Fit

  Tamed

  Sated

  SUGAR BABY NOVELLAS

  So Sweet

  Praise for Rebekah’s Work

  SO SWEET

  “Reading this novella made me happy. I'm definitely looking forward to more.” - Lime Cello, Heroes & Heartbreakers

  FIT

  “I felt satisfied by a complete story at the end, and would highly recommend this to anyone looking for a fun, relatable contemporary romance.” - Elisa Verna, Romantic Times Book Reviews (TOP PICK REVIEW)

  SATED

  “…I LOVED IT. The book was respectful of geeks, people with disabilities, people of color, and the BDSM community, and it was informative and entertaining, and it was funny.” - Carrie S, Smart Bitches Trashy Books

  About This Book

  First comes love. Then comes…the most ill timed proposal in history?

  Kayla Davis never dreamt she’d meet sexy, considerate, and seriously sweet Internet billionaire, Michael Bradbury, but ten months after Michael went from Sugar Daddy to for real boyfriend she can’t imagine spending another day without him. Cohabitation is totally working—throw in a puppy or two and Kayla has her happily ever after wrapped up in a perfect little bow.

  Until she finds out Michael might have bigger plans for their future, like marriage, kids, and ownership of a professional sports team. Kayla is more than ready to join Michael on this amazing ride through the next chapter of their lives, but first she needs to catch her breath and see if Michael is ready to be a part of a team and not just the boss.

  This book is absolutely for the readers, especially those of you who embraced Kayla and all her big girl goodness.

  One

  I woke up feeling so good. I stretched, pulling the covers back up to my bare shoulders, basking in the warmth of our sheets. If you asked me a year ago if I was happy, I would have said yes. A year ago, I had a job that took care of all my needs, and a cute apartment. I had a roommate who I thought was a great friend, loving parents and twin siblings who thought I was the coolest big sister in the world. The parents still loved me and my sisters still thought I was pretty neat, but I’d lost my job, and then me and my roommate almost ran out of money and decided that the fine life of sugaring was right for us. It absolutely wasn’t, but then I met him, Michael Bradbury, for real for real Internet billionaire and now everything was different.

  A year ago I didn’t know butt from crap about happiness. Now, I had a job I actually wanted. The roommate who turned out to be less than a friend was out of my life. With a little help from said billionaire I was able to rescue my best friend Daniella from her boring corporate job at Telett Wireless and together we had opened Cards by K&D, a greeting card company for the millennial set. Our first official line, Queer Qards by K&D, was due to launch in a few months at L.A. Pride. I had no idea just how awesome it could be to work for yourself and that made me pretty damn happy. And then there was Michael.

  On the surface, Michael and I made no damn sense. There was the age gap and the bank account gap, and the fact that some dudes don't like girls as thick and juicy as me, and some black girls like me didn't mess with older white guys, but beneath it all we were both just two big nerds who got excited about bad food and things like graphic design and user experience. Before him I had no idea what it felt like to be so in love. I had no idea what it was like to be in a relationship with someone so considerate and so kind. Now when people waxed poetic about soul mates and true partners I knew they weren’t lying because I had found that in Michael. He also asked me to move in with him so now I had an even nicer, cuter place to live.

  I rolled over to the sound of his fingers moving across his keyboard. Didn’t matter if we had a late night or not, didn’t matter that it was Saturday either. For Michael, every morning it was early to rise and right to work. The sun was up and I’m sure birds were chirping somewhere; I just couldn’t hear them through the double paned windows of his Malibu home. Our home. But the smell of breakfast wafting down the hall made the perfect scene complete.

  We had plans for our Saturday morning, adorable couple-y things to do, but it was still too early for Michael to look so good. His long black hair was sporting a few more grays, catching up with his salt and pepper beard and mustache. His thick locks were down, falling around his shoulders, hanging down his back, still all messed up from the great sex we’d had the night before. I knew I was still feeling the effects of our love making turned rowdy fucking. My thighs were a bit sore, and my pussy was still wet. It was a bird chirping kind of day.

  “Good morning,” I said, my voice a little scratchy from sleep. I couldn’t help but smile when he glanced over at me. Those blue eyes.

  “Morning, baby. Are you excited?” His lips tipped up a bit at the corner, his version of a smile. He was always so calm and introspective. Only a few people in his life got to see the real thing. Only I got to see him this naked.

  “Do you want my honest answer?”

  “No. Lie to me. All day long. I hate honesty in a woman.”

  “I know. Liars are where it’s at. Um, yeah. I’m stupid excited.”

  “Well then. I think we should get going.” He leaned over and lightly kissed my cheek before he closed his laptop and slid it down to the foot of our massive bed. I’d just recently started calling it our bed. And our house. I’d been living with Michael in his sprawling modern home in Malibu for almost ten months, but it took me a long time to get over the fact that I wasn’t just a visitor. I lived with my boyfriend and it was totally fine for me to make myself comfortable.

  And I would have been completely comfortable if Michael’s house—our house—wasn’t ninety-seven percent glass. The massive windows that made up most of the exterior walls afforded an amazing view of the ocean and the mountains of Malibu, but at night it also felt like a horrifying glass box that was just begging to be burgled. Michael travelled a lot, leaving me alone with his housekeeper, Holger.

  I loved Holger’s big German ass, but when he was done with his work for the day, his time was his and he spent that time in the pool house. I couldn’t ask him to spend the night up in the main house every night Michael was away. He didn’t get paid to babysit me. We had a big fence and a gate that could only be opened with a seven-digit code, and Holger could probably hear me screaming if an intruder got by all of that, but there was only one thing that would make me feel completely safe, and Michael agreed.

  I reached under the sheets and drew my freshly manicured nails up his toned thigh. “Is Holger still mad?”

  “Do you want to go feel him up like this? Butter him up a little?”

  “I would if I thought it would work.”

  “It’s that serious, huh?”

>   “Yes. Baby. We need a puppy.”

  “You’re right,” he said with a firm nod. He pursed his lips. “We should get some food in that belly and then hit the road.”

  I watched Michael as he climbed out of bed, leaving my hand sad and lonely on the warm spot he left in the sheets. I took every inch of him in. The curtains were drawn, but our bedroom was nicely lit by the morning sun. That body. It was sinful for a man at any age. Perfect ass, stacked and toned. Muscles and tattoos, tanned skin dusted with dark hairs in all the right places. He came around my side of the bed, heavy dick hanging between his legs, probably a little hard from the way I had just been touching his leg. He headed toward the bathroom, and a shower, I guessed, but like he said we still had plenty of time before the shelters opened.

  I reached out and caught his fingertips before he could get away. He stopped walking and looked down at me. “Am I being too demanding if I ask you to come back to bed?”

  “It depends on what you want me to do if I get back in bed.” He moved a little closer and toyed with my fingers.

  “Share your penis with me,” I said with a pout, watching as his eyes narrowed with just the slightest bit of annoyance.

  “Last night, after you came the third time—”

  “The fourth. What? I came like five times really, but like four big ones. But do go on. You were saying,” I said smiling back with my toothiest grin.

  “After you came, I was nowhere near done, but last night when we were coming back from dinner, what did you tell me?”

  “I may have said that I wanted to get up early so we could be the first ones to the shelter.”

  “That’s exactly what you said. You can’t keep toying with my penis like this,” he said, putting his hands on his perfectly sculpted hips. I looked him up and down, starting at those hips and then down lower to the erection that looked like it wanted to come out to play. My eyes wandered up some more to the massive eagle tattoo whose wings covered half his chest and half of his back. And I looked further up, to his perfectly full lips.

  “I’m sorry I’m so mean. Here, let me repay you before we go.” I gave his hand a solid tug and pulled him back under the covers with me. When he was comfortable I did the only sensible thing and climbed on top of him. It took nothing to slide a little lower so my pussy was rubbing along the length of his quickly hardening dick. My eyes closed as his hands traced the length of my spine. I shifted against him some more, growing wetter every second.

  “I’ll stop being a dick,” I said quietly before I leaned down and kissed his perfect lips. There was a faint hint of sweetened coffee on his breath. I didn't give him shit for being up and caffeinated.

  “Good,” he said when I pulled back just enough. “You know I'll give you whatever you want.” I was being a dick still, teasing him, rubbing myself up and down all over him.

  “And I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  “Then stop fucking teasing me.” That was enough to make me come, how he could go from sweet to filthy in no seconds flat.

  “I think I need some assistance.”

  “You always seem to catch me in my most charitable moods. Let me see what I can do for you.”

  His hands moved down to my waist, lifting me just enough so my wet slit opened for him. He was big and thick, but every time my pussy took every inch of him.

  I sat up just enough to place my hard nipples right on his mouth, my breath rushing through my teeth as he teased me with his tongue. I couldn't help but ride him hard, couldn't resist fucking myself fast and rough on his thick length.

  This was what Saturday mornings were for. Caffeinated kisses and perfect sex.

  “Did I mention how excited I am? We’re getting a dog, dude,” I said as the first hints of an orgasm slid over me. Michael’s laughter sputtered around my boob.

  “Kayla. Please. Focus.” His teeth scraped my tender skin and then he bit down. There was no way Holger didn't hear me coming from the kitchen.

  I did want us to be the first people at the West Los Angeles Animal Shelter, but by the time we stopped fucking and by the time I finished repairing the damaged I’d done to my hair by not sleeping in a scarf, I knew we’d probably be the second or third people there. Luckily we’d already picked up a crate and other odds and ends to help our new puppy settle in. Holger was vehemently against bringing animals into the house, but he lost the argument two to one. We were going to get that fucking dog.

  I came out into the kitchen and found Michael and Holger glued to the TV. “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Good morning, sweet heart.” Holger always separated the words. “Here’s your breakfast.” He set a plate with a massive omelet and some fruit at the table setting right next to the remains of Michael’s breakfast.

  Michael glanced away from the TV for a moment, flashing me a warm smile as he held out his hand. I grabbed my plate and came around the other side of his stool so I could stand between his legs while he watched TV. Some player from the Miami Flames was talking about showing up that night for the fans.

  “What’s the haps?” I asked.

  “Steven just texted me and told me to turn it on.”

  When we met, Michael had been in talks to purchase L.A.’s NBA team from its aging owner, but at the last minute the deal fell through when the owner’s son decided he wanted to keep the team in the family. Michael had been disappointed, but he’d shaken it off and moved on to other things, like investing in my business with Daniella. Still, he’d been a lifelong basketball fan, and whenever he was in town we used his courtside season tickets. He always followed the action in the league.

  The program cut back to the woman at the broadcast desk. “That was Ladarian Thomas sharing his thoughts on tonight’s game against Dallas. Again for those just tuning in, this morning it has been confirmed that Miami Flames owner, Jonathan Taylor Wayne, has been arrested in connection with the contract killing of Orlando resident Arnold Foster over alleged gambling debts. We are expecting a statement from the league commissioner shortly.”

  “Holy shit,” I said under my breath.

  “Yeah. That’s pretty serious,” Michael said as he gave me a little affectionate squeeze on my side.

  We continued watching the coverage of the story, as another reporter picked up the report. In addition to being the team’s owner, Jonathan Taylor Wayne, who also owned majority stock in Clast Airlines, had apparently been involved in a small but high-stakes gambling ring. I hadn't heard about Arnold Foster’s murder, probably because it hadn’t made the national news, and after pulling his name up on my phone I found some more details. He’d been shot to death in his car while driving through Orlando three months ago, execution style. Apparently the triggerman had come forward and named the owner of Miami’s team as the one who had hired him. It was some movie of the week type shit. When it got to the point where they were rehashing information we already knew, we finished up breakfast and our coffee.

  “We’ll be back in a couple hours,” Michael told Holger as he slipped on his hoodie. Casually dressed Michael was just as hot as all-business Michael.

  “Wonderful.”

  “Cheer up, man. A dog will bring much needed energy to this place.”

  “I am completely satisfied with the level of energy Kayla has brought to your home.” I tried not to laugh in Holger’s face. Six foot six and nearly as wide, mohawk and all, and there he was huffing and puffing like an exhausted child.

  “Sorry. She wants a dog. She’s getting a dog.”

  Holger glared at me for a moment before a small smile cracked under his handlebar mustache. “Well yes. Resisting the desires of that dimpled face is a fruitless effort.”

  “We can name it after you if you want,” I teased.

  “Absolutely not. Just help me clean up after it. I signed on for one man. Now I have a man, a woman, and a mongrel to look after.”

  “And you are nicely compensated for all of your hard work,” Michael reminded him.

 
“Now is not the time to bring up those types of particulars,” Holger huffed as he moved our breakfast dishes over to the sink.

  Michael rolled his eyes then took my hand. “We’ll be back.”

  There were a few other people when we arrived at the animal shelter, but I think we had first dibs on the dogs. The family in front of us in line had a very hyper kid, around five or six years old, who was over the moon about picking out a new cat. When it was our turn Michael might have ribbed me a little as I tried to play it cool when the woman behind the counter asked how she could help us.

  “Can you show us what you have in a puppy? A large breed perhaps?” Michael said like he was ordering a fine bottle of wine. I rolled my eyes, but laughed with the shelter attendant.

  “We do, actually.” She pointed us toward the sound of dozens of barking dogs and told us to have a look.

  There were so many dogs. I felt terrible, but short of opening our own dog rescue there wasn't much I could do. Michael stopped at the third stall where the cutest grey pit bull puppy was yapping at the fence.

  “Penny. Done. Found my dog,” Michael said.

  “Oh my god, she’s so cute.”

  “She's mine. Keep it moving, sister.”

  “What? She’s great. Let's take her. A pit will murder anything that comes through the door.” This was the dog I needed.

  “You seemed to want something in the way of a small horse. Keep looking.” I looked at him for a second, but he ignored me, squatting down so little Penny could lick his fingers through the fence. “Hey girl,” he cooed sweetly.

  “Oh. My. God. You want your own puppy. I thought you just wanted one.”

  “A man is allowed to change his mind.”