Page 38 of The Best Kind of Bad

My eyebrows fly up. “A summertime treat?”

“Yeah. They’re kind of beautiful, if you can get past the whole deadly aspect.”

“That pesky deadly aspect.”

His fingers run up and down my arm. “You have nothing to worry about, though.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I’ll protect you.”

Maybe it was intended as a flip comment, but there’s a conviction to his words that sends a little shiver through me. If only I could lean on him. I need a protector. Lord knows I do. One by one, my people are being peeled away from me, leaving me standing on shaky ground. It gets pretty exhausting going through life on your own.

But this is temporary. Once I sell off this land, there won’t be any reason for Dusty and me to see each other anymore. He lives in Silver Bend, and I live in Lincoln. I need to get back there as soon as possible. Each day my bakery stays out of commission, my odds of rebuilding drift away.

I slip over to his side, wedging myself between the couch and his long body. It’s a wide couch, and surprisingly comfortable, especially snuggled up against a complete fox like Dusty. It’s too bad I can’t shove him into a moving box and drag him back with me.

But as long as we’re out here, forced together, I’m going to enjoy being around him.

Mymom always told me to take each day as it comes.

And that’s what I’m going to do.

He takes a deep breath. My body rises alongside him as his chest expands. And then he releases it, his soft breath feathering my skin. His fingers hook around my side, skimming possessively under my breasts. He cranes his head down, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I snuggle closer, trying to understand why that tender kiss makes my chest ache so badly.

He reaches over, flicking the lantern off.

Thunder rumbles in the distance and the occasional flash of lightning casts the room in pure, white light.

From the safety of Dusty’s arms, I can almost see it. What his mom was saying.

These storms are powerful and destructive. But they’re temporary. Fleeting.

And there’s a beauty in that.

26.

Dusty

I wake up with my forearm firmly lodged between Marnie’s breasts. It’s a truly delightful position to find myself in.

It’s also the only thing keeping Marnie from sliding off the edge of the couch.

The tattoo on my forearm is just visible, making it look like a lone daisy is sprouting from her chest. I don’t know if I’ve ever had very strong opinions about cosmic nudges and all that, but matching tattoos seems like a pretty obvious sign. My chin rests in the crook of her neck and I study our tangled limbs.

Her ass is cradled by my hips and her spine curves along my chest. I nuzzle her hair, breathing in her scent. The morning sun is casting bars of light into the room, lighting up her skin, making it look like her hair is twined with gold.

My morning wood presses up against the back of her soft thighs. She stirs, stretching luxuriously, legs lengthening against mine. “What do we have here?” She murmurs, wiggling her ass against my shaft.

I grip her hips in my hand, arresting her teasing. With a groan, I lean forward, nipping at her ear. “I don’t have any condoms.”

She sighs with frustration. “Just brought the one, huh? Not very ambitious of you.”

“Having serious regrets right now.” My lips travel to her neck, tongue trailing along her soft skin.

She parts her legs, pulling my hard cock between them. “Just fuck my thighs then.”

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