Page 72 of Sugar Coated Secrets

His face darkens. “I’m not trying to save you... I’m going to do something no one has ever done.”

“And what is that?”

With the pad of his thumb, he pushes my bottom lip down. Our eyes lock. My heartbeat triples in speed. Then his gaze slowly falls to my mouth, like he wants nothing more than to taste me.

“Fight for you,” he says before lowering his head and taking my lips.

My arms wrap around his neck. He grabs my thighs, lifts me, and walks us toward the wall. My back hits it with a small thud.

“Ford,” I whimper when I feel his thick cock between my legs.

“Dulce,” he rasps against my lips, grinding his hips.

I arch my back. He sucks my neck, then nibbles my ear. A thousand needles prickle my skin, causing me to gasp, grinding against him, hating that my jeans are in the way. I’m wet, hot, and want nothing more than to feel his skin on mine.

A knock on the door breaks our spell. My feet hit the ground, and his face is still in the crook of my neck when I see Trent at the doorway.

“Get the fuck out,” Ford says, taking a deep breath like he’s struggling.

Trent walks out without saying a word. A surge of heat flushes my cheeks at being caught.

Ford pulls away slightly and whispers, “Let’s get you home.”

22

DULCE

I’m still in a daze of confused emotions for the rest of the day when Katie and I return to the bakery.

Katie and I are preparing to reopen tomorrow. The kitchen and prep area smell like disinfectant, reminding me of a hospital. I didn’t have time to find a prep table, so I have to use one near the cooling rack by the sink. At least I have the van and don’t have to depend on Katie for a ride.

Katie rinses out the rag in the sink, trying to wipe off the smell. “He said that?”

“Yeah.”

I told her about Ford and what he said in Trent’s office. I’m still confused about how I feel, or should feel, around him.

“He wants you, Dulce. Don’t be surprised to find you’re the reason he came back.”

“I’m not sure about anything anymore. But for now, I think he wants to be conscious of the past.”

She snorts. “There is more he wants to clean, and it’s not that,” she teases.

I prep the counter with everything, placing fresh supplies. “Is that all you think about?”

“What?”

“Sex.”

“No,” she says with a smile. “Well, most of the time.”

My thoughts drift back to Ford, just as they did in high school. I imagine how he kissed and whether he was gentle or rough when he had sex.

I hated that he was with Summer. I hated it even more when I heard he got her pregnant. I'm not sure if the rumors about him cheating on her with Heather were true. But he messed around. A lot. I wasn’t stupid or naive to think he wouldn’t. He was good-looking, and he knew it. His friends encouraged him every time they were in the halls and a girl gave him knowing looks or talk about him. I wasn’t sure who told the lie or the truth, but someone must have known if he was good in bed or how he looked without his clothes on.

“Are you thinking about it?”

One touch from him has muddled my brain for the rest of the day. “Thinking about what?”

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