GAY Sugar Daddy

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31

Why, of all places, does he have to be here? At my home, my safe place?

Three hours ago after we were done with dinner, Cleo already had Mr Montgomery's car waiting for her, while Kimmie hopped in an Uber to go to a bar meeting her date, so I went home for an early night.

Just like any other night, when I'm not fucking anyone, I'd fuck myself by scrolling through the pictures and videos of us in my phone.

As usual, once I'm all messed up by how much I miss us, remembering how fun we used to be, how amazing we were together at any time or place, with the spirit of totally convinced that I want him back in my life, I went to his social media to stalk on him, to feed my curiosity if he already has a new girl -or guy- so I can draft my next plan in case he's still available. Perhaps there's a chance for us, if he hasn't moved on yet.

But of course, there's nothing new there. The last picture in his Instagram is still a snap of his ten pink fingernails with the caption My first 💅🏻

It definitely has a double meaning because that was the first night he had an intimacy with a girl; me. His first blowjob by somebody with a pussy; me.

Normally I'd settle down with a drink and a movie, watch something that will ease me into thinking there's zero possibility for us to be together in the future.

But not tonight.

Not tonight because that motherfucker fucking appears in my life, again.

All these while I've been anxious if I'd meet him somewhere in New York, so when I took that flight I was relieved to know I will no longer be nervous since I'm at my territory now. London is my home, my safe place.

Why, of all places, does he have to be here? At my home, my safe place?

"Elle..?"

I turn around hearing his deep voice, finally questioning my action for taking the bus all the way from my apartment to here, at midnight.

I was too busy thinking about what his answer might be instead of checking the time before I left home; I honestly thought it was only 11. Time sure passed by too quickly when you're so immersed with stalking the man you're still in love with.

Wait. Not in love, just interested. Interested with.

"Why London?" I ask him when he's still walking towards me, "Why do you have to work here? Why London?"

Instead of the all-black chef outfit, he has now changed into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, with a black leather jacket in his left hand. The restaurant is lightly dimmed perhaps just waiting for the remaining staffs to leave since it's almost 1 now.

Yes, I am out of my mind, to travel all the way here just to ask him that one question.

No, there's actually two. But that's the one I wanna know the most, "Why are you in London, Owen?"

"Pete's gonna close the restaurant in five minutes, can we talk somewhere else?" His oceanic eyes shine brightly despite our dimmed surrounding.

Before I can respond to that, some of his colleagues come and say goodbye to him, which I do notice their facial expressions of questioning what the hell am I doing next to this man at this odd hour, in this obviously messy, unattractive appearance. Definitely not a hook-up prospect.

Instead of the elegant, classy Estelle I was four hours ago, I am now in my pyjamas with messy hair bun, wearing my nerdy glasses and bare face. I was so anxious about asking him those questions I couldn't care less about my appearance. All I remembered was to jump into my boots, grab my scarf and coat before running to the bus station. Geesh I actually ran.

It's a good thing that I put my card in the pocket of my coat because I fucking forget to even bring my purse. All I think about was to get here as soon as possible, to catch him before he leaves.

"See ya tomorrow, mate." He places his hand at my back, guiding me to the door. The guy whom he talked to waves at him as we exit the place.

"How did you come here?" He asks once we're both standing outside the restaurant, already removing his hand from me.

"I... took the bus."

"Okay so we can go with my car then." He turns to the right and walks along the street but I can't find the strength to follow him. What if the answer I want to hear doesn't come out of his mouth? What if it's the opposite?

"Elle?" He stops and turns around, finally realising I'm still at the same spot.

"Are you okay?" He asks as he strides back to me, "Are you cold?"

I shake my head but he takes off his jacket anyway, "My car is right over there. It will be too far to turn around to pick you up here so if it's too cold, I can carry you?"

I giggle at his absurd suggestion. He has already put his jacket on me, on top of my already thick winter coat and pink scarf, it's too much if I'm still cold that I can't even walk a few steps ahead.

"I'm fine. Take you jacket, you're only wearing a t-shirt." A thin t-shirt, if I might add.

"It's okay, I've trained in winter since I was eight." He winks playfully as he starts to walk again, but this time I'm walking next to him.

We don't talk anymore until he opens the passenger door of a black SUV parked just a few steps away from the restaurant.

My eyes widen as I look at him in disbelief, "Since when do you drive a big car like this? Where's your fancy-shmancy sports carssss?" I purposely lengthen the ssss implying the variety he has in his garage back in New York.

He chuckles as I get in, "Can't fit all the veggies and seafood in a sports car, Precious."

The butterflies in my tummy flutter hearing the last word. He still remembers me as his Precious.

"Do you have a place in mind?" He asks once he's inside, sitting in the driver seat.

"I don't."

"Your place then?"

"My place?" Is he insinuating there'll be some actions tonight?

"It's late, guess we can talk a bit then you can go straight to bed?"

"Oh." I hope he doesn't notice the disappointment in my voice.

I key in my address in the directory as he drives the car out of the parking spot. We remain in silence until two minutes later when the ride becomes too quiet and awkward so I break the ice, "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough."

"Three months ago?" Right after we separated?

"I came here a week after you left."

That soon? Why did he ask me to stay until the end of my internship, then? If he's gonna leave anyway?

"I planned to open the restaurant-"

"That's YOUR restaurant?" I interrupt before he managed to proceed, "You're not just the chef? That's your restaurant?"

Like seriously, it's situated at the premium part of London. That must have cost a fortune to open a restaurant like that at such prime location.

"Yeah. My sixth restaurant."

"Show off." I roll my eyes which he laughs, making my heart warm with the sound I've missed so much.

I've been watching videos of him laughing almost every day since the past three months. The way he laughs heartily at our lame jokes and banter, always make the heart ache in me subsides.

Right now, I'm smiling in satisfaction for being able to make him laugh again. And somewhat grateful to be here with him. It's like living in the past.

"I've told Ruby anything you order in the future will be on the house, so feel free to come anytime." He says while turning the car to my street.

"Yeah? Do I get to watch you cook too?"

"Like old times?"

"Like old times." Minus the joking, hugging, or fucking.

"Of course, I'll clear a station for you, the one with the best view."

I giggle, "Make sure I get to see everything, not just your ass."

"What, my ass is not sexy anymore?" Oh they still are. That's why my eyes linger when I first saw you in the restaurant hours ago.

"We're here." He announces once he parks the car in front of my apartment building.

"Do you wanna go up?" I ask while adjusting my glasses. Unbuckling the seat belt, I turn my body to him, which he is now already looking at me.

"Think it's late."

He's saying no, is it because he has someone waiting for him at home?

"Why did you come to the restaurant, Elle?" His facial expression along with the tone of his voice show how serious he is.

Here goes nothing, "I was wondering, if you're in London... because of me."

He smiles, easing the nervous feelings that's bubbling in me right now, "I've planned to open a restaurant here since last year, before we met. Originally it should be opened for business next month but my partners convinced me it's better to open as soon as it's ready."

"That's why you're here?" Not because of me?

"Yeah."

Is that also the reason he didn't reach out for me? Because he was busy with the new restaurant? Not because he doesn't want me anymore?

"Do you still have feelings for me?" There, my second question.

The smile disappears but he's still staring at me, "You broke my heart, Elle."

To be fair, I broke my heart too.

But then he forces a weak smile, "Good thing I'm a big boy. I'm okay now, though."

"So you've moved on?"

"I can't be stuck forever, can I?"

"So you've moved on." I whisper to myself while I lower my gaze to his chest, not wanting to look at him in the eye.

He must have heard that when he sighs, "I'm trying to."

I lift my gaze to meet his eyes again, "I miss you Owen."

He doesn't say anything but lifts his hand to touch the left side of my face, moving it gently as if capturing every inch of my feature so he'd remember it, for this could be our last meeting.

My heart ache of the thought this would indeed be our last meeting.

"Do you wanna go up?" Because right now, all I want is to make that sadness go away. Both his and mine.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Let's go," I take the hand that's still on my face and hold onto it, "Let's go up, Owen." So we can fuck and forget all the sadness and heart ache.

But his piercing gaze kills my intention, "I don't want one night, Elle. It's either every night or no night at all. I'm a greedy man."

"Can't we just do it one step at a time?"

"One step at a time? You mean fuck me tonight then be someone else's sugar baby tomorrow?"

That stinks. And my hand flies off right away, along with his. We're not touching each other anymore, and obviously frustrated with what he just said.

"I know you're still in the business. Madam Helen called me about your availability. But I don't want you as my sugar baby. I want you as my girlfriend."

Is this his subtle way of asking me to be his girlfriend? Or he's just venting his frustration with no intention of pursuing me further?

"I think it's late."

He clearly wants to get rid of me so I nod, "Hmm."

"I'm the one who's supposed to be sad, why are you making me feel like I'm the one who made you sad?"

I give out a small laugh hearing him despite a tear escaping the corner of my eyes. He instantly brings his arms around me, hugging me for comfort.

"I'm sorry I said those harsh words. If it's up to me of course I wanna go up and fuck you so bad for breaking my heart like this."

I giggle despite more tears coming out, "You would?"

"You broke my heart it's only fair I break you too. Like your hips or something. Say Kamasutra?"

I hit him playfully on the chest, still giggling. But this time he releases me from the hug and wipes my tears.

Then he opens his door and jogs around the car to open mine.

"Thank you for sending me home." I hug him for what seems to be another goodbye. Perhaps this one would be the real one.

"Come by the restaurant any time, okay?" He says once we distance ourselves.

"Okay." Don't think I'll be able to do that.

I wave lightly at him as I walk to the entrance of my apartment building, while he's still standing next to his black SUV.

If I'm so miserable from the parting, why can't I give him a chance? Give us a chance? Isn't it better to regret doing it rather than not do it at all? What if everything does work out? What if I lose this chance of happiness just because I'm a coward?

"Precious."

"Hmmm?" I turn to him the moment I hear that word.

"Be my girlfriend?"

I sprint to him, wanting to be close to the man as soon as possible for the fact he's already smiling with two arms spreading wide just waiting for me to be in his embrace.

"Doesn’t matter what I am to you, I’m yours, Precious. Yours and only yours. All rights reserved.”
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