Page 113 of Riding the Sugar High

“Please, yes,” I whimper through the last echoes of my orgasm.

He groans, his cock sliding in and out of me harder and faster, and reaching forward, I pull his visor up. “Barbie,” he whines. “This is my cunt. My—” The most delectable expression falls upon his face as his eyes bore into mine and he pours his moans out.

When his body relaxes, he gently sets my legs down and smooths the hair beside my face, then pulls out. One side of his lips lifts as he removes his helmet. “You should see what a mess I made of you,” he says with a sigh.

“I can feel it.”

He adjusts my panties, then holds his hand forward and pulls me up. His lips meet mine, and it feels like he kisses me for hours, though it’s probably minutes. Like I could continue for days.

“You have a tissue on you?”

I fish into my bag, then take one out, and as he uses it to clean up the bike, I cock a brow. “Really?That’s what needs cleaning up?”

He glances down at the paper, then at me. “Yes.” Then, he presses a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll clean you up. At home.” The next peck lands on my jaw. “I want my backpack to ride home stuffed with my cum.”

“Oh—kay.” Heat rises to my cheeks, and he blows a breath against my neck, then lifts his sleeve to show me the spot where I clawed at him, and the scraping of my nails left a red mark. “Maybe you’re ready for me to break you after all.”

“Oops,” I whisper. I press my lips tight, and with a dark chuckle, he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Primrose...you know why I’d never date you?”

“No,” I say, souring lightly as I prepare for his quip.

But then he looks at me, eyes deeper than a well, the shadow of a smile that’s so tender, it’s nearly too intimate. Slowly shaking his head, he tucks my hair behind my ear and whispers, “Me neither.”

go downtown

Primrose

We step onto the porch,hand in hand. My underwear feels wet and sticky, and though it’s uncomfortable, it’s hot in a way that makes me feel filthy—depraved in the best way.

When my legs twist for the hundredth time, he smirks. “How about we take a shower? Clean you up?”

I picture the harsh bathroom lighting and swallow hard, words like ‘exaggerated curves’ cutting my air supply.

He’ll be grossed out too when he eventually agrees to throw you one.

I shake my head slightly, willing Derek’s words to fade from my memory, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. I figured when we’d have sex, there would be romantic lighting, a soft blanket, lots of eye contact. It worked out even better because I was fully dressed on his bike.

What he’s asking right now is much different.

“Uh-huh, maybe.” I follow him into the house, trying to bury my nerves under a smile, though I’m not sure it’s enough to fool him. “We should probably check on the piglets first. They need to be fed, right?”

“They can wait.” He pulls me to him, his lips tracing down my jaw and neck before closing the door.

God, it feels good. And scary. Terrifying, really.

“Do you want to eat?” I ask as I gently pull back.

We haven’t had dinner tonight, so I don’t think it’s too weird of a question, but Logan clearly disagrees because his lips abandon the spot under my ear, and he leans back. “I do, Barbie.” Gaze lowering to my lips, he whispers, “But my dinner keeps squirming away.”

His dinner?Am Ihis dinner? “Oh.”

“We don’t have to shower together if you don’t want to,” he says, eyes narrowing on my face. “We don’t need to doanythingat all. We can hang out.”

Great. Now he thinks I don’t want to sleep with him, and I’m not about to tell him I’m worried about what he might think of my body. If there’s something thatisn’tsexy, it’s a trash heap of insecurities.

“You should go first.”

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