Rookie in Love [SYTYCW 2013]

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Naomi Trulove is a young reporter assigned to write an exposé on the world of sugar babies. But a chance encounter with Hudson Davis, the wealthy businessman and partner to her sugar daddy, leaves Naomi lusting for him instead.

Despite her professional obligations to the sugar daddy, Naomi can't help but be drawn to Hudson's regal good looks and intense desire for her. Hudson wants Naomi for himself, but he knows that if they give in to their feelings, it could cost them everything.

As they embark on a secret affair, Naomi and Hudson find themselves caught up in a whirlwind of passion and desire. But Hudson's past and his connection to her mark threaten to tear them apart. Naomi knows she needs to keep her distance, but the pull of Hudson is too strong to resist.

"Sugar" is a steamy and provocative romance that explores the limits of desire and the risks we take for love. With scorching sex scenes and a rollercoaster of emotions, this novel will leave you breathless and begging for more.

CHAPTER ONE:

NAOMI

How do I get myself into these situations?

The backseat of an Uber in LA is one of the least ideal places to end up and yet here I am. The small clutch in my hand is a lead weight even though it carries only the necessities: an old Victoria's Secret lip gloss, my license, debit card, and phone. How can so many small things be so damn heavy? And while I'm on the subject of size, why does the back of this Uber feel like the inside of an MRI?

I try to take a deep breath to calm my nerves, but the muscles around my rib cage squeeze, making oxygen elusive. I give up the effort and instead reach for my phone to connect to the world outside this terrible idea one last time.

ME: Almost there.

BESTIE: Tracking you. If I don't hear from you in an hour, I'm calling the cops.

ME: That's why you're my #1.

BESTIE: Come over after so I can hear all the tea.

The Uber driver pulls up near the entrance to a posh hotel in Beverly Hills, and right away, my stomach drops. Why did I think he'd take me somewhere other than the front? Somewhere we won't hold up traffic while I try to scurry out in my too-tight dress and ridiculous heels. Damn him and damn me. Damn the shoes, too. I should've practiced wearing them for a few hours after I rushed out to get them last night.

I'm unsteady in my heels. In my Uber dismount and in my career. CLEARLY in my decision making. And for sure in my life...but fuck it, it's too late now.

"Thanks," I tell the driver when I finally manage to get myself out.

I wrinkle my nose at his all-white Tesla as I close the door. I've just spent the last thirty-seven minutes of my life listening to the man ramble on about how he custom ordered the white seats for passengers to be able to identify that he owned the car, and it wasn't part of some fleet deal through the ride-share app. I didn't have the heart to tell him I really didn't care, even if it cost a mint.