Sugar Daddies Read Online Free

thought that maybe… sorry, I misunderstood.”
    Rick groaned, loud enough to get our attention. “Drinks, please…” he said. “For fuck’s sake, let’s get a fucking beer. Jesus Christ.”
    He didn’t even wait for affirmation, just took himself through to the kitchen.
    I was pleased to follow him.

    The atmosphere changed in the kitchen. The air felt lighter, and the evening sun lit up the room through the huge townhouse windows. Rick pulled out a beer and offered me one, but Carl was already at the wine rack, pulling out a bottle of red and holding it up for my approval.
    “A good year,” he said, and uncorked. He poured, and I caught a heady whiff of fruit.
    I took my glass and swirled the wine around, took a sniff. “Nice.”
    A thousand pounds richer. I couldn’t quite believe it. Real money. In my account. I smiled, and I meant it, and then I drank down a large enough glug of my wine that Carl smirked at me.
    Rick hitched himself onto the marble counter, tapping his brogues against the cabinet underneath. “We got off to a weird start,” he said. “We’re really not that bad, I promise. We’re pretty laidback.”
    I didn’t quite believe him, but I smiled anyway. “You have a wonderful place.”
    “That’s down to Rick,” Carl said. “He’s the designer.”
    Rick looked out of the window rather than soak up the praise. “You want anything here, just help yourself. Feel at home. We want you to be comfortable here, don’t we, Carl?”
    Carl sighed, eyes heavy as they met mine. “Yes, yes.” He tipped his head towards Rick. “He’s a free spirit, man . Rick is all about ambience, and communication, and…” He reached behind him and jabbed at some weird grill like contraption. “…shrivelled up tofu crackers. He’s quite the hippy.”
    “Dehydrated,” Rick groaned. “They’re dehydrated.”
    “Whereas I’m a little more, direct. I like to be direct .”
    No shit. I knocked back some more wine. “What else do you do? For fun?”
    “Work,” Carl said. “We work a lot. Work hard. Work smart. Other than that we watch movies, hit the occasional club, hit the occasional tennis court, too. We have a gym in the basement, and a sauna and Jacuzzi. It makes working out a little easier. How about you?”
    Wine made me brave enough to show myself. “I ride,” I said. “Horses. Well, one horse. Samson.” I fought back the urge to whip out the gallery app on my phone and bore them with ten thousand pictures. Now really wasn’t the time.
    They both nodded, a look passing between them.
    “Makes sense,” Carl said. “The horsey type, yes. Very good.”
    “You ride?” I asked.
    “Oh yes, we ride.” His eyes prickled me. “Just not horses.” He wouldn’t stop staring, and his gaze was hot. I took a step back, propping myself against the kitchen island. “So, tell me about Katie Serena Smith. Fresh out of university, a business degree under your belt. What next?”
    I shrugged. “I’m planning on bailing out of the conventional. That’s why I’m here.”
    I had both of their attention.
    Rick held his beer up. “Conventional is overrated. We don’t conform much in this household.”
    “What are you bailing out of?” Carl asked.
    I held up my glass. “The boring. The mundane. The status quo. I studied business because I felt I should get a conventional degree. Now I want to live for me.” I took a breath. “I want my own yard. Just a small affair, maybe six horses. That would do nicely.” It felt weird to share my ambitions so quickly, and part of me twitched inside, twitching at the potential disapproval.
    Carl tapped his fingers against his wine glass, weighing me up. “An eventing yard? Dressage, perhaps?”
    I shook my head. “Neither. Just a little riding school. A couple of horses for a couple of kids, it’s been my dream since I was a little girl.”
    He didn’t look impressed, and I didn’t expect him to. Rick was more forthcoming. He smiled and nodded, and