Bad Boy Blues (St. Mary’s Rebels, #0)

by Saffron A. Kent

My words cut off when he moves away from my lips. A moment later, I feel him on my neck. He’s nosing the line of my throat. I grip his biceps. “A-are you smelling me?” “Yeah,” he groans. I flinch and my neck bends sideways. I’m nothing in the face of his aggression right now. The way he’s sniffing my neck, like he’s snorting a line of cocaine. I’m nothing in the face of that need. Need of a junkie. “Why?” “Because you smell nice. Like sugar.” And sugar is his favorite thing in the world. He’s eating up my scent. God. I arch my back when he gets to the triangle of my throat, and I take a deep sniff of my own. What I smell is exactly what I fell asleep to, in his bed. His blueberry pie and musky scent. “Y-you smell good too,” I blurt out, then clench my eyes shut in embarrassment.