Page 33 of Brat Baby (Sugar Life #1, #3)

Emery

Tickling beneath my eye and over the bridge of my nose gently pulls me back toward the surface, the sensation forming a lazy lap of a triangle, again and again.

A smile tugs at my lips, but I keep my eyes closed.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t awake, princess. I see those lips twitching.” I can hear the smile in Darcy’s voice.

Popping my eyes open and turning my head in the direction of his voice, my gaze finds his dark blue one. The blown-pupil look is gone, and all the stress lines seem to have smoothed out.

Was that due to the orgasm or my being here?

“Hi,” I whisper, the thought of speaking any louder unacceptable. I refuse to do anything to disturb this fragile little bubble I have found myself in with him.

“Hi,” he replies, resting his hand on my shoulder, that twinkle I’m so used to seeing back in his eyes. With his head cupped in his other hand as he stares down at me with a softness I’m not used to seeing, it’s hard not to pinch myself to make sure this is real.

I reach up and touch his jaw, feeling the thicker rasp of his black stubble against my fingertips as I draw a line along his jaw. The sensation shoots a shiver down my spine.

Real. This is definitely real.

A buzzing noise saves me from having to think of something else to say, which is good, because my brain is very, very blank right now. Except for the words “what does this mean?” screaming in neon in my head.

Which I will absolutely not be asking.

I put myself out there; it’s his turn now.

The noise stops, then immediately starts up again. Is that his phone ringing?

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you need to get that?”

Darcy shakes his head, continuing to scratch his fingertips up and down my arm. “No.”

When the stop-start of the buzzing happens again, I laugh. “Are you sure?”

He sighs, scoops me up, then rolls us both so that he is on his back and I’m on top of him, my cheek resting on his shirt-covered chest. “I’m supposed to be at Derek’s place for our weekly game of poker.”

Scooting over a little, I peek over the edge of the couch to find the source of the buzzing. Darcy’s phone stares back at me with Derek’s name displayed on the caller ID. When the call ends and the missed notifications appear on the screen, my mouth drops open.

“Twenty-one times? You’ve ignored him twenty-one times?” There are also a few messages from Hudson, but they are irrelevant in the face of twenty-one missed calls.

Darcy shrugs under me, his shirt protecting me from the bump of his nipple piercing. “To be fair, I did answer the first and second call. When I refused to leave you, Daddy got mad. So, I hung up.”

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

I use his chest to brace my forearms so that I can peer down at him. “You did what now?”

“I told him I was with you and that I wouldn’t be making it to his place tonight.”

And like… I get the words that are coming out of his mouth; they are English and make sense. But my brain is refusing to understand them. It’s like he just said that he is choosing me over Derek, over them.

The mischievous smile on his face morphs into an expression that is a suspicious blend of pity and understanding as he reaches up to tuck some hair away. His fingers graze my temple, then tickle the back of my ear, which sends yet another shiver down my body.

He starts to say something but is cut off by the phone ringing, again.

Darcy groans melodramatically and closes his eyes. “Fuck me, make it stop.”

Grinning at his over-the-topness, I brace my forearm across his chest and reach for his phone, my fingers swishing around until they connect. “Your wish is my command.”

“Princess, what are you—”

Swiping to answer the call, I grin down at Darcy, whose face flashes from shocked to amused. He tucks one arm behind his head, causing his bicep to do that hot-guy bulge thing through his shirt, apparently ready to let me have my fun.

“Hello, you’ve reached Daddy Darcy’s phone, unfortunately he is currently tied up and can’t get to the phone right now, but I can take a message for you if you like?” I grin at Darcy, proud of my little pun.

There is an overly long pause, and I resist the urge to check that the call is still connected, even though my stomach is suddenly in knots of excitement. Or maybe dread? Oh well, too late to turn back now.

“Emery.”

That’s it. My name, in a clipped and monotone voice. My heart sinks into my stomach just from the sound of his voice. Not to mention the unimpressed edge that cuts my name short.

So, I do what any good brat does. I mimic him.

“Derek.”

Darcy’s grin has taken over his face, so I stick my tongue out at him. This only makes him laugh, silently, and I end up being jostled around on his chest. I try to shoot him a “stay still” look, but apparently my powers of telepathy aren’t that great.

When no other words are forthcoming from the phone, I decide to change directions, even though this one sets my nervous system on fire.

“Thank you for the food. On the weekend,” I clarify, in case his dark mood gets in the way of him putting two and two together. “Everything was super yum, except for that green smoothie.”

There is another pause, but then…

“Vegetables keep you healthy.”

I can’t help but grin when I hear his exasperation.

“I eat them in my food. And I promise, when I go to the dining hall, I always grab a piece of fruit for a snack between classes.”

The pause is still there but shorter. Like he knows I have already won this round and is purely playing along to move on to the next one.

“Good. That’s… that’s good.”

“Did you want to talk to Darcy? I saw that you’ve already tried calling him twenty-one times. Was it something important?”

Darcy’s cheeks go red from holding in his laugh. He throws his forearm over his face, and now his laughter is making me slip right off his chest.

“Twenty—No, it’s fine. Just tell him the rest of us are playing, and if he isn’t here before we hit the one-two blinds, then he forfeits his play tonight.”

I raise an eyebrow at Darcy, even though he can’t see me. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah.”

Pushing up to sitting, I straddle him, one leg hanging completely off the side, toes nowhere near the floor. Luckily for Darcy, he managed to get my panties back on me while I was passed out. Otherwise, his shirt would not be faring very well right now. “He’ll be there.”

That makes him drop his arm and shoot me a confused look.

“Fine. Good night, Emery.”

“Good night, Big D.”

The line goes more than silent this time before the call ends.

Which is good, because Darcy can’t seem to hold in his laughter anymore. Full-on belly laughs have me riding him like a wild bronco. “Big D? Damn, that works on so many levels. Why didn’t I think of that?”

My cheeks burn because I have zero idea where that even came from, but since I’m not allowed to call him Daddy right now, that was the first thing that came to mind. Needing a little space, I wiggle around until my foot connects with the floor and then I push off of him.

I turn in a circle, trying to spot if he brought the rest of my stuff into the room and, yep, it’s all on the chair closest to his office door. But before I go to the pile, I want one more glimpse of his drawing of me, but in the light this time.

Gently, I lift the canvas from the easel and bring it into the light.

Even though this is the second time I’m seeing it, my reaction is in no way diminished.

Like someone is slowly undoing the zipper on my chest and exposing my insides to the world, I let every emotion that surges through me flow until I’m drowning in all the sensations.

How is one person so incredibly talented?

I’m so absorbed in seeking out every single detail, I fail to notice when Darcy got up from the couch. His presence behind me as he wraps his arms around my middle jolts me in place.

“You are incredibly easy to draw,” he whispers. “I could spend every day drawing you, and it wouldn’t be enough. If I could cover every single wall in my house with sketches of you, I would. I think you might be my muse.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. His muse? “You can, you know.”

“Can what?”

“Cover your house with drawings of me. I’d love to pose for you.” Please say yes, please say yes.

“Maybe…” Darcy draws out the word, a little V forming between his eyebrows, but then he tenses the slightest amount.

If I wasn’t so intently focused on him, I wouldn’t have noticed it.

“What if it wasn’t for my house? What if it was for an exhibition?”

“I… as in, public? Like, people would see me like this?” I gesture at the canvas, my pulse thundering a mile a minute.

“Not exactly like this. The concept is about being tied up by societal expectations and how that can stop a person from figuring out who their true self is. Not every image would be of pleasure, but yes, some of them would show ecstasy.” He tightens his hold on me before sliding one hand up to cup the underside of my boob.

Heat immediately rushes to my pussy, and I stifle a moan.

“There would also be pain, anger, fear, loss, confusion, joy, sadness, comfort. The full range of the emotion spectrum. I want to capture it all. Every single one of your emotions on my canvas so that I can learn what strings to pull to get you where I need you in my ropes.” He rolls his thumb over my peaked nipple, and I suck in a breath.

Images of being tied up for him, suspended off the ground while he sits there, staring and drawing, flood my mind. At the complete mercy of his ropes and the feelings that surge within me, unable to do anything to save myself except exist through the session.

Fuck.

“Say yes, princess. Let me draw you and put you up for all the world to see.” He whispers those last few words and my eyes slide shut. “Say yes.”

A tiny voice in the back of my head is screaming at me that maybe I should be thinking about this a little more, but I slam the door on it. If this will make my Angel happy, then I’m doing it. “Yes…”

“Yes, what, princess?”

He brushes over my nipple again, with a little more pressure, as his other hand slips down my stomach. Heart thrumming nervously, I try to think through the fog. Does he want me to call him Daddy? Or am I wrong? I don’t think I can handle the rejection again.

But… I’ll never know if I don’t try, right? He wanted to hear it during sex. And saying yes to being in his exhibition means I will get another chunk of time with him. I need to be like I was on the weekend—balls to the wall.

I need my brat courage again. Somehow, not looking directly at him makes this so much easier.

So, I take a deep breath and jump in. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl, princess. Fuck, I can’t wait to have you posed for me, again.” Darcy turns me in his arms, and to see my own happiness shining on his face brings tears to my eyes. “Margot is going to kill me, but I don’t give a shit. She’ll just have to find the right gallery.”

Smiling, because his enthusiasm is catching, I tip my head to the side. “Margot?”

“My agent. She’s always trying to keep me on this side of the common decency line, but not this time. I’m drawing you the way I want you drawn, the way I see it in my head. She’ll have to keep her pearl clutching to herself.” He has a slightly manic look, like when he was drawing.

Laughing, I step out of his arms and head over to my clothes. “Okay, as long as I’m not the one that gets in trouble.”

I start pulling on my pants, just now noticing that my panties are definitely starting to cash in on Darcy’s earlier threat. Good thing the walk back to the dorms is only a few minutes. I had no idea until today how close the art college is to my building.

Once I’m dressed, I turn back to Darcy, who is staring at the couch, eyes unseeing.

“Daddy,” I call out gently, and Darcy’s head snaps up in my direction.

He scans my body and frowns. “You’re dressed.”

Laughing, I reach down and scoop up my backpack. “Well, yeah. You need to go to Derek’s, remember? And I need to go eat and study.”

Darcy seems to snap out of whatever mood he was in, his body giving a slight twitch before he comes over to give me a hug and what is rapidly becoming my favorite thing in the world—a forehead kiss. “Will you be going back to the apartment this weekend?”

I pull back, frowning. “You knew I was there?”

His eyes soften and his lips turn down. “We all knew you were there. The front desk sent us a message.”

I narrow my eyes and stare at him, not sure what I want to do with this information. They all knew I was there, alone, and to be honest, pretty fucking sad at the end, and they still didn’t show up?

“I’m sorry, princess. I know it’s fucked up. You just need to give Derek time.”

“Time for what?” I demand, because I’m so fucking tired of not knowing what the hell is going on.

Darcy shakes his head. “I know you want to know, but as much as I don’t give a shit about losing my job here, he does. Same goes for Hudson. Xavier is… Xavier.” His expression morphs into a cheeky smile. “Do you know that Derek punched Xavier?”

My mouth drops open. “He did not!”

Darcy nods, grin wide. “Yep, right in the jaw.”

“When?”

“Right after we left you in the quad.”

“But why?”

“I can’t tell you that, not without fucking everything up.

That’s what Derek is trying to work out right now.

Just give him time, okay? He’ll come around.

I know he fucking misses you. I’ve never seen him as…

messy as he is right now. If I didn’t know what the plan was, I would have been sitting him down for an uncomfortable conversation about feelings.

” He pretends to shudder, but there is still a smile on his face.

“Up until now, I didn’t even know the man had feelings like the rest of us mere mortals. ”

I stare at him. And then I stare some more. And the whole time, internally, I’m screaming, Are you fucking kidding me?”

But what I hear is that there is a plan. Or something. Something is happening, and I need to give Derek time?

Sure, I can give him time. But I don’t have to make that time easy on him.

Pulling out of Darcy’s arms, I turn so that I’m walking backward toward the door. “To answer your question, yes, I’ll be at the apartment this weekend. I’m going after my last class tomorrow.”

Darcy folds his arms over his chest as I make it to the door. “A package was delivered to the apartment today. You’re welcome to play with it if you like.”

Interest piqued, I grin back at him as I push through the doors. “I might just do that.”