Page 15 of Pure Bred

I press harder. Rub faster. Tell her how sweet her pussy is.

She cries out, her body convulsing as she comes against my hand. I can feel her pulsing, her wetness soaking my fingers. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, ever felt. I kiss her again, swallowing her moans, feeling her body shake with aftershocks.

As she comes down, I slow my touch. I’m still hard as a rock, but this isn’t about me. All I want is to make her feel incredible, to make her come a million times over. Because I’m crazy about this woman.

Always have been, always will be.

6

SIERRA

THREE WEEKS LATER

“Absolutely not.” I give Logan an unamused look as he holds up a bright green, full-body pickle costume. “I’m not dressing up as a giant pickle for Halloween.”

He groans, looking devastated. “Come on. You’d look adorable.”

“Nope. Not happening.”

Logan shakes his head and looks at the racks of costumes around us. We’re the only ones in the costume store—Logan talked the owner into letting us have it to ourselves for an hour after their normal closing time. It was super sweet of him to do that for us, but I also feel guilty that he had to do it in the first place. This would be so much simpler if I didn’t draw attention in public places.

Logan reaches for a goofy banana costume. “How about this one?”

I snatch it from him, laughing. “You’re terrible at this.”

“I’m great at this,” he says with a grin. “You just have no taste.”

I scoff. “Seriously? You’re insulting me now?”

Logan laughs and pulls me into him, his steady embrace making my heart trip. “I apologize. You have perfect taste, Sierra. Kiss and make up?”

I pretend to think about it for a few seconds, then nod. He dips his mouth down to meet mine, his kiss ever so sweet. One kiss from him makes me crave more, but right now isn’t the time or the place.

These past few weeks have been nothing short of incredible. I actually feel like myself again. It’s been so nice to spend time with my family, eat home-cooked meals, slow down and enjoy the simple things…but most of all, it’s been so good to reconnect with Logan. Ever since that day that he brought the picnic over, I’ve known that it was the right decision.

The thought of my return flight to LA lurks at the edges of my mind, but I push it away. I don’t need to think about that now.

Logan disappears down an aisle, then returns triumphantly holding the most hideous costume I’ve ever seen. It’s a lumpy, misshapen blob covered in stringy tentacles and bloodshot eyes.

“This,” he declares, “is perfect.”

I stare at him, slack-jawed. “You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious.” His grin widens. “This is the one for you.”

I narrow my eyes. “Fine. I’ll wear that monstrosity…if you wear whatever I pick out for you.Andif you come over to my parents’ house on Halloween to help hand out candy.”

Logan doesn’t hesitate. “Deal.”

Two nights later, I’m wearing my hideous monster costume and impatiently rapping my knuckles against the door of my parents’ upstairs bathroom. “Logan, come on! The trick-or-treaters are going to start showing up any minute!”

A muffled groan comes from behind the door. “I look ridiculous.”

“That’s the point,” I call back. “Hurry up!”

The door creaks open, and I burst out laughing. Logan is standing before me in a skin-tight, hot pink unitard, complete with a tutu and fairy wings. The only part of his costume that’s missing is a sparkly tiara—which is gripped tensely in his hand.

“I hate you,” he grumbles.

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