INKA
The shower left us both flushed and temporarily sated, water still dripping from our skin as we got dressed. Inka moved quietly, slipping into a fitted black top and jeans that hugged her in all the right ways. She looked good—too good that I wanted to get her out of those jeans and do what we did in the shower all over again.
I pulled on my cut, checked my piece, and caught her eye in the mirror. “Stick close today,” I told her. “Things will probably get even wilder today.”
She nodded without argument. Good girl.
We headed out on my bike, the Barcelona sun beating down as we joined the massive procession of clubs rolling out for the day’s second main run.
Inka’s arms were tight around my waist, her body pressed to my back. After the shower, she’d been quieter, but I could feel
