Page 32 of Cuffed By the Wolf

Once inside, I flip on the lights. The smell of rich leather wafts up my nostrils.

Big brown leather furniture fills the living room.

“I love your home.”

“Thanks. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Gavin, I’m leaving. I just wanted to get you home safely.”

He chuckles as he removes my purse from my arm and the keys from my hand. He tosses the keys onto the brown credenza near the door and places my purse on the big leather chair.

He’s towering over me now and toys with one of my braids.

“Stay with me tonight,” he says in a sexy, deep voice.

“I’ll get you tucked in. Then I’m leaving.”

“I’m thirsty. What would you like to drink?” He asks.

“I’ll get us drinks,” I say.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” He disappears in the back of the house.

I turn on the light switch, and his custom gourmet kitchen comes into view. I step to the sink built into the brown and white marble countertop.

I didn’t think sheriffs made a lot of money. How can he afford a home like this?

Forget about his custom home.

“Give him the glass of water and be on your way,” I mutter.

“My cock is hard as steel,” he yells out.

Don’t take advantage of this man. I won’t fuck him. No pussy magic. I turn to the counter behind me. There’s four bottles of whiskey, all top shelf. I notice the glass tumblers and shot glasses. I reach for one of the whiskey bottles and pick up a shot glass. I fill the shot glass and toss it back. My eyes squeeze shut like I just sucked down a sour lemon. Whiskey is not my drink of choice. I cap the whiskey bottle and place the empty shot glass in the sink. Taking a deep breath, I pick up the glass of water and stroll to the back of the cabin.

I halt in the hallway as he exits the bathroom. His huge dick stands at attention through his shorts.

“I’m leaving.” The last thing I want to do is leave.

He takes the glass from my grip, reaches for my hand and places my palm under his shirt on his abs.

“Fuck,” I utter.

Gavin gulps down the water while his hungry gaze remains on me. Now holding the glass eye level, he takes my hand, pulling me into his bedroom.

The smell of vanilla hits my nostrils.

“Gavin, sit on the bed so I can take your shoes off,” I order.

He places the half-empty glass on the dresser. Then his big palms grip my face. “You drive me insane.”

I don’t say a word. Just stare up at him.

Gavin’s eyes move over my lips. “Every night, I dream about what you taste like.”

His lips take mine in a hungry, passionate kiss, and his big hands palms my ass.

My hands forget that we’re not taking advantage of this man.