Blurb：
Discover the intense world of age-gap relationships in this gripping sugar momma romance. When a powerful thirty-two-year-old woman encounters Leo, a brooding college student with wounded pride, their lives intertwine in unexpected ways. This isn't your typical romance—it's a raw exploration of power dynamics, desire, and the complexities of transactional relationships.
Enter Eason, the charismatic blond hustler who represents everything Leo isn't—polished, eager, and unapologetically ambitious. As these two contrasting male leads vie for attention, the story delves deep into themes of corruption, authenticity, and the price of ambition.
Perfect for fans of forbidden romance and strong female protagonists, this novel features:
- Intense character dynamics between Leo and Eason
- A sophisticated sugar momma navigating her desires
- Realistic portrayal of college life and financial struggles
- Emotional depth beyond typical romance tropes
Will our heroine choose Leo's untouchable pride or Eason's manufactured perfection? The answer might surprise you in this compelling story of modern relationships.
Content：
I was thirty-two when I picked up my first broke college boy.I was driving past the university when I saw him, Leo, holding a girl in his arms. His eyes were red-rimmed, a portrait of wounded pride. Please, he choked out, don't think I'm dirty...
It was a straightforward arrangement. A business transaction. So why did he make it sound like I was the one corrupting him?
If he felt so dirty, there were plenty of others who wouldn't.
I took a long drag from my cigarette and blew the smoke out the window. My eyes landed on a blond kid swaggering down the sidewalk, decked out in head-to-toe knockoffs. I nodded towards him.
"Ask that one," I told my driver, "if he's interested in a sugar momma."
1
Eason was in my office by the afternoon.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the thirty-second floor, glinting off his Balenciaga t-shirt, his Yohji Yamamoto pants, and his Louis Vuitton sneakers.
Fake.
Fake.
And fake.
But damn, if he didn't have a pretty face.
He was nothing like Leo, who had that cold, clean-cut look, an air of untouchable pride. Eason was more like something manufactured, a walking plastic surgery template. Exquisite, cheap, and with a hustler's glint in his eye.
But I’d had my fill of fine dining. Tonight, I was in the mood for some greasy takeout.
They were both selling themselves, so why bother with the one who acted like he was above it all?
The moment he opened his mouth, I knew I’d made the right choice.
"Heard you were looking to adopt?" He grinned. "Should I call you Mom right now?"
He caught on fast. A little too fast.
But I wasn't into that kind of roleplay. I could already see the entire trajectory of our relationship flashing before my eyes. Today, he’d have me launch his career. Tomorrow, he'd be begging for a leading role. The day after, our arrangement would leak, and he’d be on his knees, pleading for me to bury the scandal.
Perfect. This was exactly what I wanted.
I ignored him, flipping through the file my assistant, Ms. Evans, had prepared.
He was from some forgotten town in the middle of nowhere. Family wasn't poor, certainly better off than Leo's alcoholic father and gambling-addict mother. His grades were average, a far cry from Leo's scholarships.
But he was a good two inches taller than Leo.
I glanced up at him. He beamed at me, a perfect eight-tooth smile. He was handsome, no doubt, but the fawning was a little much.
I pursed my lips, a flicker of distaste crossing my features. "How many? Men or women?"
Eason’s expression didn't change. Not a hint of shame or offense. "Just you, boss!"
Bullshit.
"Ms. Evans will take you to a clinic for a full check-up," I said flatly. "If you're clean, be here in a week."
"You got it, boss."
He practically skipped out of my office. As he turned, I caught a glimpse of his perfectly sculpted ass.
I wondered for a moment if he was wearing pads.
2
A week later, Eason hadn't shown up yet, but Leo did.
He was wearing his usual uniform: a shirt washed to a faded gray, worn-out jeans, and canvas sneakers. Clean-cut and handsome, the very picture of the noble, struggling student.
He’d gotten off the bus. Couldn't even be bothered to splurge on a cab.
It really made me wonder where the thirty thousand dollars I gave him every month went.
Don't get me wrong. He wasn't here to see me. I was usually the one who went to him. He was working his part-time job at the coffee shop on the ground floor of my building.
Download the MotoNovel app, Search 【 239741 】reads the whole book.
The End