So I called out again.

Still nothing.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I turned the water off and got out of the shower. With a towel around my waist, I walked around the suite three times before I’d convinced myself she actually had left. It made no sense, especially because she left her shoes and panties. Panties I could understand, but leaving shoes behind in early November?

No way.

So she left in a hurry and I have to wonder what caused her to run.

Can’t believe the prospect of a shower with me and breakfast would be scary.

Unless…

Unless she was totally serious about getting close to that Sugar Daddy in Santa Clara. Maybe she really just wanted a one-night stand and had her sights set elsewhere. And not that this guy would be a better catch than me, but considering I told her unequivocally that I didn’t do relationships and not even to bother fantasizing about it, maybe that’s exactly why she jetted out of the hotel without even a goodbye.

Honestly, I thought the Santa Clara Sugar Daddy was a bunch of bullshit she threw at me to cover for the fact she really was sniffing around me for a potential sugarship. But now I’m not so sure.

What complicates things even more is the fact that I gave her the first orgasm she ever had with a man. I can’t even begin to describe what that felt like, knowing that I was responsible for bestowing that on her, and then being completely perplexed how a woman as beautiful as that went so long without finding a real man to pleasure her. Her past experiences must have been horrid, and just thinking that last night sent me into a mindless frenzy to make her come over and over again.

Sela called my name out many times and even cursed me when she said she couldn’t give me one more. I then proved her wrong and accepted two more from her. It was the hottest night of my life, showing that beautiful woman all the joys of some really fantastic fucking. And I stayed purely vanilla with her too, and it makes me hard just thinking about some of the ways I could make her scream.

Fuck.

I have got to stop thinking about her.

It’s over.

Done.

She left.

No way to find her.

Except…that’s not true. I fucking created The Sugar Bowl website. If she’s a Sugar Baby, with a few keystrokes I can access the database and have her house pinpointed in moments.

Drumming my fingers on my desk, I stare at my computer screen and ponder the merits of doing just such a thing. I mean, what would be the purpose? Just to fuck her again?

That actually sounds like a fantastic reason.

Lurching forward in my seat, I grab my keyboard and pull it toward me. I navigate my way into the internal database of Sugar Babies, as of this month totaling over 1.6 million registered from all over the world. That’s nothing compared to the almost five million registered Sugar Daddies who pay a flat thousand dollars to join, autorenewed each year. Do the math…you can figure out what that means. While our money comes from the Daddies, our current marketing efforts are aimed at trying to build up with more Babies. The bigger our pool of Babies, the more Daddies will join.

I type in Sela Halstead, and I’m surprised when actually three women come up by that name. I immediately rule out two of them, as they reside in Texas and Georgia. The third Sela Halstead has an Oakland address, so I choose that profile.

I’m immediately rewarded when a picture of her appears on my screen. Yes, that’s the gorgeous woman I fucked my dick raw with the other night, but the picture doesn’t do her justice.

My eyes scan her personal data, of which we don’t require much.

She’s twenty-six and I don’t find that surprising. Her face is definitely more youthful with the freckles and wide, innocent eyes, but there’s a wisdom there within their depths that tells me she’s got a few more years under her belt than your average Baby. Enrolled at Golden Gate University and rents a small apartment in Oakland. It appears she works part-time at a diner to help fund her tuition. No criminal record. Not even a speeding ticket. She’s the classic Sugar Baby.

I look at the Comm button and consider snooping further. The Comm button will lead me to the encrypted messages that Babies and Daddies use to communicate. I’m not doing anything illegal, as our terms of service include all members’ agreement that we are allowed to monitor activity to ensure no fraudulent or criminal activities are being carried out.

But do I really want to know just how far entrenched into a potential sugarship she’s delved? Or should I just close out the screen and get the fuck back to work?

Images of Sela’s back arched off the bed and the muscles in her pussy clamping down hard on my fingers the first time she came flash through my brain and I click on the button without another moment’s hesitation.

Scanning through the messages, I can see several potential Daddies have reached out to her. She’s responded to a few, but nothing more than a polite decline that she’s not interested. And then I see a long history of exchanges dating almost two weeks back with a man in Santa Clara, California.

Frank Webert.

And fuck…lame-ass name aside, he’s practically a perfect catch for her. He’s on the younger side at age forty-two, reasonably fit and attractive, and made his money in robotics. That means he’s super-fucking filthy rich.

I read the messages and he comes on strong with Sela. While there is no overt solicitation or request for sex, there’s enough innuendo in his messages to her that he expects it. Her responses are flirtatiously vague but promising, and she did agree to meet with him this upcoming weekend.

My bet is that he’ll have an agreement signed with her by Sunday.

I think about how that makes me feel.

I wonder if he can make her come the way I did.

I wonder if she’ll suck his cock like—

Surging up out of my chair, I grab my keys and phone off my desk. I look at her home address one more time and commit it to memory before logging off my computer.

I walk out of my office and tell Linda in passing, “I’m going to be out for the rest of the day. I’ll return calls tomorrow.”

“No problem,” she says with an affectionate smile. “Need me to do anything while you’re gone?”

I stop and look back at her, wondering if I’ve gone temporarily insane. “Yeah…as a matter of fact…print me out a blank sugar agreement.”

Linda blinks at me in surprise, momentarily stunned to inaction. I raise my eyebrows and lift my chin toward the printer that sits on the corner of her desk. She immediately jumps to it, taps her fingers on her keyboard a few times, and then the printer starts spitting out the document.