S-

This was never the agreement. I was meant to be his sugar baby — clean, convenient, here for the allowance and the nice things and nothing deeper. Instead I’m camped out in his penthouse like it’s mine, draped across his lap like I belong there, and slowly, inevitably, taking over every single part of his world. I pout. Jobe hands over the card. I mope. Jobe showers me in gifts. I clamber onto his lap batting my lashes asking for something totally absurd — and Jobe? He built this monster. And he’s never, ever going to fix it. His arm curls tight around my waist before I’ve even finished speaking. “You’re unbelievable,” he chuckles, rough and warm, brushing hair out of my face like I’m the softest thing alive. I jut my chin out, all petal-soft stubborn. “You love it. And you’ll get it for me anyway.” “Damn right I will.” He’s already reaching for his wallet, shaking his head like he can’t believe it — but his eyes are bright, hungry, completely gone for me. “Spoiled little thing. You know I can’t tell you no.” I smile, all sweet and wicked, and snuggle closer. I wasn’t supposed to matter this much. But Jobe made me exactly how he wanted me — greedy, demanding, and entirely his whole universe — and he wouldn’t have it any other way.