Page 33 of Blood Sugar

Lifting my head, I gave him a wry grin. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m lucky,” he purred, his hands squeezing my ass as the other moved to my hair. His fingers threaded through my short curls, brushing them back and stopping at the nape of my neck. “Come here, baby.”

His kiss was sweet and tender, and my heart rate started to calm. Warmth swirled in my gut, my desire rising as a feeling of safety and belonging filled me.

“I think I owe you a bite. Maybe we could try it while you’re inside of me,” I whispered against his lips.

His abs tensed under me, a low rumble rolling out of him. “You want to?”

“Mmhmmm.”

“I didn’t even get you naked yet,” Rowen said, biting his lip as he toyed with the strap of my dress.

Giggling, I reached for my zipper along my ribs and slid it down. Rowen groaned as the dress loosened and he was able to lift it over my head. Grinning, I tossed the dress aside, letting him drink in the sight of me topless, in just the panties he’d already reached inside of.

“Sadie.” His voice was choked. “I didn’t think I would ever get to have you like this.”

My smile faded, my heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. Reaching up, I brushed his hair back, trailing my fingers over his temple. Slowly, I curled over him, angling my face to kiss him.

Movement caught my eye.

A dark silhouette moved across the starlit window. It was small, too big to be a rat but too small to be a dog, and it moved in quick, jerky movements. I would have thought it was a cat, but it was too hunched and bristly.

“What in the unholy hells is that?” I yelped, grabbing for the duvet to cover myself.

The thing stared at me with luminescent, beady eyes, its entire body going stiff. It rocked on its paws and then fell back, legs straight up in the air.

Laughing, Rowen flopped back onto the mattress. “It’s just Ralph. You scared him, so he’s playing dead.”

“Ralph,” I said, keeping my eyes on it.

Climbing to its feet, the creature waddled forward into the dim light. A long pointy nose wiggled as its whiskers twitched. The fur was gray and spiky, lighter underneath, and four little black paws clawed into the rug as it neared the bed.

“Ralph is an opossum?” I said dumbly, alternating between glaring at Rowen over his lack of concern, and staring down the opossum.

“Yeah, he kinda came with the apartment.”

“Excuse me?”

“He was some great-grandparent’s familiar and they somehow made him immortal. Don’t ask me how. So he comes and goes as he pleases.”

Ralph climbed up the side of the bed, his little claws latching onto the blanket. He came over the edge, and I got a good look at him.

Once you got past the pointy teeth and a face the shape of a cheese wedge, he was kind of cute.

He curled up in the pile of blankets near Rowen’s legs. A rat-like bald tail curled around his small body, and I repressed a shudder.

“He’s harmless,” Rowen said, sitting up so he could scratch along Ralph’s back. The opossum blinked sleepily.

Slowly I reached out and stroked his back. His fur was softer than I expected, reminding me of my family’s shepherd when I was a kid. His ears were thin and soft, like a pig’s, and his nose was pink and round too.

The longer I looked at him, the cuter he became to me, and when he blinked up at me, I decided I liked him now that my initial shock had worn off.

“Aren’t you adorable?” I cooed, petting him again. He let out a purring trill. “So why is his name Ralph? That seems odd.”

“My grandpa said that was his original name, so that’s what I’ve always called him. But my grandma called him Sprinkles.”

“Sprinkles is a much cuter name for a bakery opossum,” I said, using my nails to scritch behind his ears. He rolled over so he could rub his cheek against my arm.