Sugar

Part One - Heavy Flirting

Warning: this is a steamy/erotic romance that contains descriptions of sexual activity.

"Hey! Nachos!" Tom called out.

Brittany's heart leapt. If any of her friends caught her talking with Tom, who knows what rumors might be spread about her... as if she needed any more.

"Tom, what are you doing here?" Brit laughed, looking around nervously, "Shit!"

"Woah, now, such language from such a pretty mouth!" Tom teased her.

A big yellow bus with the number "23" in large black numbers rumbled by them.

"Need a ride?" Tom asked.

Something inside her cautioned Brit not to except. However, it wasn't as if her mom was going to give a damn.

The smell of new leather drifted from the open window.

"What the hell," Brit half whispered, nestling into the soft leather seats of the black sports car. She took a deep breath and glanced at Tom.... jeans, white dress shirt, jacket... not the uniform of a businessman, rather, the uniform of a man who owned businessmen. He was old enough to be rugged, but still in shape. Brit snapped away and looked out her window, feeling the heat rise to to her cheeks. Shit, he was probably old enough to be her dad.

"Where to?" Tom asked.

"West Lake," Brit replied.

Brit was used to the second glances people gave her when she gave that address, but for some reason, she felt more self conscience this time as he looked her up and down. Brit shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hand moving across the fabric of her skirt to hide the unraveling hemline.

"So, how's that asshole, Mr. Cock treating you?"

Brit nearly bit her tongue laughing.

"It's Mr. Cox," she turned and was met with a knowing smile, "But, you knew that."

"Yeah, you caught me. It's nice to see you smiling, though!" Tom grinned.

Britt twirled her hair around her finger as she stole sideways glances at the first man to make her laugh in a long time.

"So, what are you doing here anyway?" She asked.

"Oh, talking business, scholarships... boring stuff, really. How about you? Spring Break's coming up, right? Any plans?"

Visions of her low-income apartment, cleaning dishes at Giovanni's, and the stress of a dysfunctional family filled her mind.

Brit sighed, "not so much."

"Giovanni's, then?" Tom asked.

"As many nights as I can get," Brit responded dryly.

Something brushed her leg and Brit sucked in a mouthful of air, turning to meet Tom's gaze.

"Hey, it's just for a little while. A sharp, pretty thing like you will be out of this hell hole in no time," Tom's hand moved back to the blinker and then to the steering wheel. But Brit still felt the lingering warmth of his kind touch on her leg. A simple gesture, a mere pat. She hadn't felt a sincere touch from another person in a long time. And, never from a man. The reality of her situation flooded her senses and broke down barriers she fought to keep up as she faced daily life.

The car swerved to the side of the road and the engine shut off. A pair of sunglasses slid onto the dash.

"Nachos, what's going on?"

"Brit, it's Brit... or Brittany... not Nachos!" Brit shouted at him.

Damn it. Everyone treated her like a kid, but no one in her life gave her a damn thing. One fucking mistake... and it wasn't even her choice. Fate decided her life was a joke, that she was destined to be  the poster child, the bad example. She hadn't wanted it. It had just... happened.

"Brittany... that's a nice name."

"Brit."

"Okay... Brit, then it is!" Tom pulled a pressed, crisp handkerchief from his coat pocket and paused, then gently dabbed at her tears. His fingers brushed her skin gently, the warmth of his hand touching her cheek spread down her neck, threatened to stop her from breathing, then rushed through her depths to join the warmth from his touch on her leg as it winded its way through her core.

The luxurious bucket seat cradled her body comfortably, yet she shifted against it, her skin seeking the soft touch of this man who only knew her in passing, in the pure exchange of two people sharing a moment in time together, a man who knew nothing of her past, her parents, or of her burden.

Brit's eyes flitted along the row of buttons on the front of Tom's shirt, lapped up the sight of his firm jaw line, his masculine cheekbones, and the way his eyes held with intensity whatever they set their gaze upon. Then, without warning, his eyes met hers and she felt as if he was staring into her soul. For a brief moment, she wanted to run and then the moment was gone and she began to feel as if she might explode.

Brit exhaled, not knowing how long she had been holding her breath. Tom's hand was still touching her cheek.

"Tom," Brit whispered. Tom snapped the handkerchief neatly and slipped it back into his pocket. He leaned over, slowly, and Brit felt her body moving towards him of its own will, not wanting to be alone again, not wanting the moment to end. His arm reached over and she shut her eyes, the physical world slipping away.

Rrrrrr mmmm

Brit's eyes flew open as the car lurched forward. Tom had his sunglasses on again, his hands on the wheel, but he wasn't smiling. She was mortified. Did he know... what the hell just happened, exactly?

The rest of the car ride was fairly quiet. The West Lake division was not far from the school.

"Stop here, my parents get upset when I get rides from boys," Brit lied, pointing to a light post between two properties.

"Hey, how old are you, anyway?" Tom asked.

Brit's heart leapt. Why was he asking? She gulped down the stupid grin she felt surfacing.

"How old do you want me to be?" Brit replied with a line she was pretty sure she had seen in a movie or something.

Tom smiled, "Bye, Brit."

"Bye, Tom," Brit waved.

Brit waited until Tom drove away before turning and running between the two houses, through the narrow strip of woods separating the expensive division on the golf course and the low income apartments on the other side.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading "Sugar" by Sally Skye.

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Kisses and Love - Sally Skye ;)