Roxanne had one rule: keep the sugar baby gig strictly business. No feelings, no strings, just cash for access. That airtight boundary detonated the second she saw him—her devastatingly handsome sugar daddy—parading his perfect, smiling girlfriend. Something ugly, sharp, and possessive clawed up Roxy's throat. Jealousy? F#ck. That wasn't supposed to be part of the deal.
Her meticulously built compartments didn't just crumble; they fucking imploded, burying her detachment under the rubble. Suddenly, the man whose money she took, whose body she'd learned to please with calculated distance, became an obsession. A fire licking low in her belly, an ache demanding more than just his wallet.
The lines blurred, the rules dissolved into a sticky, complicated mess. This wasn't just about money anymore. It was about claiming something—or someone—she had no right to want. Roxy thought she was immune, playing a game she controlled. Now? She's free-falling into a dangerously hot territory where every touch, every look, promises pleasure and ruin.
