Taming My Sugar Mommy-Chapter 30: First kiss

Isabella took a deep breath before descending the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. Halfway down, she froze, her thoughts returning to her phone still lying on her bed upstairs. Something pulled her back—an insecurity she couldn't quite shake.

Updat𝓮d from frёewebnoѵēl.com.

Back in her bedroom, she found herself opening Google yet again, her cheeks burning as she typed the same mortifying search: "how to please your man." Her eyes skimmed familiar headlines, each one making her feel more foolish than the last.

'This is ridiculous,' she thought, tossing her phone onto the bed. She was Isabella Ashworth—accomplished, confident, desired. She shouldn't need the internet to tell her how to handle this evening. Yet here she was, smoothing down her dress for the hundredth time as she caught her reflection in the mirror.

****

The sight of him stole her breath. Liam stood by the window, his profile carved against the city lights like a modern-day Adonis. His charcoal suit fit him perfectly, though he'd loosened his tie in that carelessly elegant way that made her fingers itch to pull it free completely. The gold watch she'd given him caught the light as he moved, a reminder of shared moments and unspoken possibilities. His broad shoulders, strong against the backdrop of twinkling lights, brought back memories of their dance—how solid and warm he'd felt under her hands.

"The view never gets old," he said without turning, somehow attuned to her presence.

"No," she agreed, her eyes tracing his silhouette. "It doesn't."

In the dining room, soft lighting created an intimate cocoon around them. Their conversation danced between business and pleasure, each word charged with an underlying current of anticipation. She found herself watching his hands as he spoke, remembering their firm gentleness during their dance.

"The Maxwell deal," he said, cutting into his steak with precise movements that drew her attention to his capable fingers. "You handled it beautifully today."

"We handled it," she corrected, taking a deliberate sip of wine. "Though I was..."

"Distracted?" His eyes met hers over his glass, and heat bloomed across her skin.

"Perhaps."

When Liam excused himself midway through dinner, she used the moment to collect herself. Upon his return, he caught her watching him, and his knowing smile made her pulse skip.

"Enjoying the view?" The teasing note in his voice sent warmth coursing through her.

"Perhaps." She lifted her wine glass to hide her smile, the burgundy liquid catching the light like the way his eyes darkened when they lingered on her.

She noticed his slight wince as he reached for his water—a subtle movement she might have missed if she hadn't become so attuned to his every gesture.

"Is everything alright?"

"Slept wrong, I think. Or too many hours at the desk." He rolled his shoulder, the movement drawing attention to the strong line of his neck, the way his shirt stretched across his frame.

"Lucky for you," Isabella said, setting down her glass with deliberate care, "I happen to have some excellent massage oil. Consider it repayment for last time."

His eyebrow lifted, interest kindling in his gaze. "Last time?"

"The Florida event. When I could barely turn my head." She stood, smoothing her dress with trembling hands. "You helped then. Let me return the favor."

He followed her to her bedroom, their footsteps whisper-quiet on the plush carpet. Her sanctuary welcomed them with cream and gold tones, floor-to-ceiling windows transforming the city into their private light show. The king-sized bed, with its perfectly arranged cream duvet against the mahogany headboard, seemed to pulse with possibility.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said, retreating to her walk-in closet. "I'll get everything ready."

She returned with a yoga mat and massage oil, her heart fluttering as she watched him remove his tie, his fingers working his shirt buttons with practiced ease. The soft rustle of fabric filled the room as she laid out the mat near the windows, where city lights provided perfect ambient illumination.

"Shirt off," she instructed, her voice steadier than her racing heart. The quiet clink of his cufflinks on her bedside table sent electricity down her spine. When she turned, the sight nearly undid her.

She'd seen him partially undressed before at company events, but this was different. The warm lighting painted his skin in gold, highlighting the broad planes of his back, the subtle play of muscles as he moved. It was intimate, charged, almost overwhelming.

Her hands trembled slightly as she warmed the oil. "Lie down," she managed, proud of her steady voice despite her thundering pulse.

As he complied, she knelt beside him, gathering her dress carefully.

As her hands worked over his back, she felt the tension slowly melting away beneath her touch. Each knot she discovered yielded to her careful attention, drawing soft sounds of appreciation from him that made her cheeks warm. When she reached his lower back, satisfied that she'd worked out every bit of stiffness she could find, she sat back on her heels.

"All done," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite how the sight of his oil-slicked skin made her pulse race.

Liam turned his head slightly, one eye studying her. "Are you sure?"

"Have I missed somewhere?"

His lips curved into that devastating half-smile. "My chest has been feeling tight too. From all that tension in the boardroom, you understand."

Isabella's breath caught. She should say no. Should make some quip about him being greedy. Instead, she found herself asking, "Would you like me to help with that too?"

At his nod, she waited as he turned over, trying not to stare too obviously at the way the movement made his muscles flex. The new position presented an entirely different challenge. His chest was broad and well-defined, and she found herself suddenly very conscious of where to place her hands.

Carefully, she began working the oil into his shoulders again, then down across his chest. She tried to maintain a professional touch, to avoid certain areas, but it was impossible not to brush against his nipples occasionally. Each time she did, she felt him tense slightly beneath her hands, and her own breath would catch.

Shifting to better reach his sides, she found herself straddling his thighs again. This position was infinitely more intimate now that he was facing up, able to watch her every move with those intense eyes of his.

"You're sweating," he observed, his voice low and intimate. She heard the smile in his tone. "Maybe you should make yourself more comfortable. That dress can't be helping."

Any other time, such boldness would have earned a sharp retort. Instead, she found herself considering it, marveling at how his presence made her usual defenses melt away.

Her oil-slick hands made reaching her zipper impossible. "I might need help with that," she whispered, the words escaping before she could reconsider.

"Allow me," Liam said, sitting up. She remained perfectly still as his fingers found her zipper. The slow descent felt deafening in the quiet room, his knuckles trailing fire down her spine.

When the zipper stopped, she felt his gaze drinking in her lace-covered back. The heat of his stare made her pulse race, though she pretended not to notice—after all, hadn't she chosen this lingerie with exactly this moment in mind?

Resuming her position, her hands faltered as she became acutely aware of their intimate contact. She bit her lip, trying to focus, but the firm pressure against her inner thigh was impossible to ignore.

"Having trouble concentrating?" Liam's voice carried knowing amusement.

She let out a small huff. "It's rather difficult when..." she shifted slightly, blushing. "The bulge under me is quite distracting.

"Oh, that?" His voice deepened. "Just ignore it."

Her breath caught at his casual dismissal. 'Ignore it? Easy for him to say when he wasn't the one trying to focus with that against her. The pure wickedness of his suggestion made her pulse race. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, and worse—he enjoyed watching her struggle. The realization sent a thrill through her that she wasn't quite ready to examine.'

His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The simple touch electrified her skin.

"Isabella," he said softly, her name becoming both question and answer.

She leaned into his touch, her lashes lowering as his thumb ghosted over her cheekbone, lingering at the corner of her lips. When she opened her eyes, his were dark with barely contained desire.

In one fluid motion, he shifted beneath her, sitting up fully while keeping her steady in his lap. The new position brought them face to face, his chest warm against hers through the partially opened dress. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders as she adjusted, highly aware of everywhere they touched.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered, inches from her lips.

Instead, she curled her fingers into his hair and pulled him down. The kiss was everything and nothing like her fantasies. He tasted of wine and possibility, his lips firm but gentle. One hand cupped her face while the other settled at her waist, anchoring her to the moment.

When they parted, both breathing heavily, she found herself looking down into his eyes, her position in his lap giving her a slight height advantage. The reversal pleased her—for once, she was the one looking down at him, watching desire darken his gaze. She saw her own wonder mirrored there, along with something deeper that made her heart race.

"I've wanted to do that," she admitted, her fingers trailing along his jaw, "for a very long time."

"But not here... not like this," she said softly.

"Why? Something wrong?" Liam asked.

She glanced at him, then around them, before meeting his gaze again. "You don't actually expect me to do this... on a mat, do you?" she murmured, almost teasing.

With a small smile, she took his hand. "Bed's this way, mister."