Page 153 of Riding the Sugar High

Her eyes are half-lidded, and she’s taking shuddering breaths. I push back the damp hair by the sides of my face, then, leaning forward, I do the same with hers. “You good?”

She nods, languid eyes looking into mine.

“What hurts?”

She huffs out a weak laugh. “Everything.”

I bet.

I brush some dirt off her cheek, dropping a soft kiss on her lips as I let my hand roam down and push two fingers inside her, rubbing softly.

Her breath catches as her eyes widen, and it’s as if she’s reminded of what I told her before.

When I bring my finger to her lips and tap, her mouth opens, and she closes her eyes. Her tongue swirls around them, licking them clean. I push them down her throat, and she gags, moaning and drooling until I pull them out.

We repeat the cycle a few more times as our bodies cool down, and by the time she’s reasonably clean, I’m hard again.

“Come, let’s go home.”

I slide painfully into my briefs, then button my jeans. With slow, sleepy movements, she also sits up, but when she tries to get on her feet, I scoop her up.

“I can walk,” she says, her head snuggling against the nook of my neck.

“Uh-huh.”

“I can,” she insists, but she wraps her arms around my neck, her face cozily nestled under my chin. “Thank you, Logan.”

“You’re thanking me for sex?”

“No. Yes, also. Mostly for playing along. I was worried you’d get mad because I wore your jacket.”

I didn’t get mad, but I almostwentmad. I missed her so much, and when I entered the bedroom, there she was, naked if not for my riding jacket. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone more in my life.

I walk us toward the house, and by the time I open the front door, she’s almost asleep. I kick the door shut behind us, then walk straight to my room and set her on my bed.

Turning to one side, she smiles up at me with sleepy eyes. “Cuddle?”

“You need to wash up,” I say as I trace the dirt painted on her body with my thumb.

“In a minute,” she insists, but I shake my head. As much as I enjoyed getting her dirty, now I want to clean her up, massage her sore muscles and kiss every bit of skin that stings.

I head for the bathroom, then run the faucets until they’re the right temperature and sprinkle in some bath salts I find lying around. Once the whole room smells like lavender, I return to Primrose’s side, dropping to my haunches to gently shake her awake.

“Where are we going?”

“I prepared the tub for you.”

When I lift her again, she kisses my jaw, skating kisses along my cheek until she presses her lips to mine. Our tongues graze, and the taste of sugar and spring warms up my heart in ways I can’t even process.

If I could keep her in my arms and kiss her like this forever, I probably would.

“Can you stand?” I rasp.

“Yes,” she whispers and resumes suckling on the spot beneath my ear.

I set her down, then pull the jacket off her shoulders. “Get in, the water’s warm.”

“Did you put essential oils in?”