Page 108 of Sugar Baby Mine

I step into the space behind her, dipping to her ear. “So, in private, then?”

She snorts, head shaking and her ponytail swishes under my nose. I perch my chin on top of her head and tug on the ends of her hair, the soft white-blonde and black bleeding through my fingers.

“Are you the tickle monster now?”

“If you want me to be.”

I grip her waist, tugging her back to me, my gaze casting out over the line of people around us slowly shuffling. I nudge her forward as we take a step before molding against her back and letting my palm slide down around her hip, hooking my thumb in the absurdly tiny pocket that could barely hold a quarter. She leans back against me, tight shoulders pressing into my chest as we take another step. I watch her eyes focus in on the blooming corpse flower, and she nearly vibrates in my hold.

“And look at that, it’s nearly our turn to get close.”

Emmeline looks up over her shoulder at me, crease back between her brows.

“I don’t know how you do it, but you’re always exactly what I need.” She says it so softly, I lean in to hear her better. My gaze drifts down when she bites her lip, glossy under the press of her teeth.

My stomach flutters, and when she presses her ass back againstmy pelvis, I really wish we were anywhere but here. My dick starts to throb and I grunt with the effort it takes to hold myself back, squeezing her hip and steadying the roll of her body.

“Don’t tempt me, I’ll carry you out of here like the caveman I am.”

“Not before we see what we came here for, you won’t.” She switches up, features hardening into her no-nonsense front as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“I’m noticing that’s not entirely ano…”

“Ben,” she trills, bumping her hips back against mine again and it’s pure torture.

“You know I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

“Like I want you to stop?”

I lean down to her ear again. “Like your greedy little pussy’s wet for my cock, and you can’t stand the fact that you have to wait now.”

“Shut. Up.”

I love it when I’m right, but I love it more when she’s got a fire burning in her blood. Her bite is so fucking beautiful.

We take another few steps forward, and the flower we’ve been waiting in line for twenty minutes to view is finally within reach—well, several feet beyond the railing of the walkway. It’s actually really interesting, once you get past the smell of rotting meat that emanates from it. Much taller than I expected, the silk of the purple petal curling back from the green stalk is nearly the color Emmeline loves so much.

She vibrates under the press of my palms on her shoulders.

“Take your pictures,” I remind her.

“Duh,” Emmeline grumbles, holding out her hand. I dig her phone out from my jeans because hers can’t hold a thing with the way they’re molded to her.

Once she has her phone, she takes a dozen or so photos before asking me to take one of her as well. While I’m not thebest photographer, I snap what are some good shots, though my attention is more focused on the bright smile that stretches across her face than the corpse flower behind her.

“Ohh, it’s perfect—” The words die in her throat, and she nearly drops her phone while I’m passing it over.

I blink.

She blinks.

Someone says, “Excuse us,” from behind us, and I gently nudge Emmeline down the walkway until we’re standing in front of a planter filled with an array of purple, pink, and white flowers that smell much more pleasing.

“Did I—”

“Yes.”

“I don’t—that doesn’t—really—”

---