Her eyes pop out of her head as she walks between the stacks of cardboard boxes. “Did you recently move?”
My face heats, and I shrug. “Nah. I haven’t bothered to unpack. I’m never home.”
“No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.” Lord have mercy, the woman has no internal filter whatsoever. She blurts whatever is on her mind, consequences be damned. If she wasn’t so darn annoying, I might find her refreshing.
Having not slept for two days any flat surface will do. I drop onto my rug, grab a pillow off the couch, and glance up. “You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
While she showers, I call my boss and update him. As I’m about to pass out, her voice sounds from the other room. “Hey, Wolfman?”
“Yeah?”
“I’d be willing to share. Your king-sized mattress has plenty of room.”
Jesus Lord have mercy.My cock, which had finally stopped throbbing, jumps back to life. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
She chuckles. “It’s not so much fun when I do it, is it?”
Punching my pillow, I turn over and ignore her light-hearted laughter.
Chapter 11
Little girls, this seems to say, Never stop upon your way,
Never trust a stranger-friend; No one knows how it will end.
As you’re pretty so be wise; Wolves may lurk in every guise.
Handsome they may be, and kind, Gay, and charming — nevermind!
Now, as then, ’tis simple truth — Sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth!
Charles Perrault
Gwen
The sandalwood scent of Special Agent Axel Wulf engulfs me. His tongue plunders my mouth, and his index finger caresses my pussy. My clit swells, and unable to reach my high, I add my hand to his. As I blossom and come, I open my eyes only to spy Bear’s wet nose inches from mine. Patting his fluffy head, I shake off the dream’s cobwebs and rise.
Shit. The red digits on the side dresser read 1:00 AM. I slept twelve hours and now, I’m wide awake.
The thought of donning my smelly black dress does not appeal, so I dig through drawers until I find a clean T-shirt. With the hem halfway to my knees, I figure I’m decent enough and pad to the other room.
Sitting at his kitchen table, the shirtless silver Wulf raises his husky blue eyes from the laptop screen. “Can I get you something to eat? I don’t have much but can whip up some eggs.”
My panties damp from my vivid dream, I squirm and shake my head. “How about peanut butter and toast?”
“Yeah, I think I can do those.” The porn star of last night’s fantasies opens the freezer, pulls out a loaf of bread, and drops two frozen slices in the toaster.
When finished, he motions to a cheap drip coffee machine. “High octane or not?”
“Decaf, please.” I glance at the clock and moan. How in the world will I survive the next few hours?
My heart leaps as he shoots me a genuine smile. Until now, I hadn’t realized the rest had been a poor substitution. What has changed? While I analyze my conundrum, he plates my toast, places them on the table, and reaches for a jar in the fridge.
His sweatpants hang low, showing off an arrow of hair pointing straight to hell. I betcha FBI Agent Wulf is breathtaking in bed. Too bad I’ve sworn off men forever.
Hating the silence, I strike up a conversation. “So… Axel. If we’re going to be spending time together, we should get to know each other. I assume you’ve read all my files and have me at a disadvantage. What made you decide to join the FBI?”
He chews thoughtfully, dissecting me with his laser stare. “Ex-Ranger. Skillset matched.”
