Page 149 of Riding the Sugar High

Maybe he wants his house back—his privacy.

With a sigh, I grab my phone from the bedside table. The notifications keep rolling in—last time I checked, the recording of our live had twenty million views.

Logan’s bike roars in the distance, and with a squeak, I check the time. Kyle told me I had at least one more hour before Logan would show up—what is he doing here?

I throw one last look in the mirror and dart out of the room. I look like a child wearing her parents’ clothes with his jacket on, but the fact that I’m wearing nothing underneath might help crank up the sexiness.

I hope so, at least, because I know Logan has been somewhat holding off due to my inexperience. I’m dead set on pissing him off and find out just how much.

I pull it over my breasts as I walk to his bedroom, then face the door and cross my legs in front of me. He’s always talking about my thighs, so that’s the first thing I want him to notice. My naked thighs under the black leathery fabric of his jacket.

The engine noise grows louder until it stops, and a few seconds later, I hear his steps on the porch.

He’ll be proud of me—hell, I’m proud of myself. And sure, he used to hate it when I wore his clothes, but things were different back then, and I think knowing what it feels like to squeeze his ass while he fucks my throat gives me a certain kind of right.

The door opens, my heart beating like a drum in my chest. Sweat dampens my back as self-doubt makes me swallow nervously. Neither of us slept last night, so he might be too tired for this.

What if he doesn’t take it as the playful show of disobedience I’m aiming for? What if he just gets mad?

“Hello?” he calls from the entrance.

“H-hey,” I say back.

Come on, Prim. Confidence.What’s done is done, so I might as well own it.

“Where are you?”

Oh my god, I’ll have a heart attack if he doesn’t just come in and see me. “Uh, bedroom!”

He enters the room, hands on his helmet to pull it off his head, then immediately freezes. His gorgeous eyes run over my body through the gap, and shoulders dropping, he lets his arm fall down his sides.

“Hello,” I whisper. I was going forseductive temptress, but it sounds more likeschoolgirl caught in a fib.

“What’s...what’s this?” he breathes out.

“I figured I’d try your jacket before buying my own. You don’t mind, do you?”

Please play along. Please play along.

He says nothing, eyes running up and down my body as if he can’t decide what to look at first.

I twirl around so that he sees the way his jacket stops right beneath my ass. “How do I look?”

His chest heaves as he slowly steps forward, like a hunter trying not to spook his prey. I think he knows I’m provoking him on purpose—that I want him to unleash his true self and show me the extent of what he likes in bed. That I’m dying for him to be rough.

If I’m supposed to leave in two days, then I intend to take full advantage of them.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t wear my clothes.”

“We did,” I confirm, batting my lashes as he stops in front of me.“Should I take it off, cowboy?”

His pupils are blown wide, his unwavering gaze set on me, and the smell of him is making me dizzy. “Run.”

The growing pressure in my stomach has my thighs turning slick, and nearly out of breath, I ask, “Run?”

“Run...fast.” His low, raspy voice shoots to my stomach. “’Cause I’ll catch you, Barbie. And when I do, I’m going to fuck you like I hate you.”

He lets me go, takes a step back, and flips his visor down.