Chapter 17—Wolfe
Wolfe inhaled deeply through his nose, and recognized the flowery scent that was synonymous with Aspen’s skin. He felt himself smile at the thought of her.
He rolled to his side and nearly tumbled to the floor, but luckily caught himself before sliding off the cushions of the couch.
With the quick movement, he instantly recognized the pain in his neck and radiating down his arm was due to the fact he fell asleep on the couch.
Correction: he fell asleep on the couch with BB after the best sex of his life. Even if it was on a living room sofa like some randy teenager scoring with his crush.
Last night was such a different landscape for him.
Wolfe’s very orchestrated hook-ups involved women who knew the score.
Completely. It always involved him visiting their places with little fanfare leading up to instant foreplay and mutual, often multiple, orgasms. He’d then leave the beauty in her bed and head back to his own place where he could find sleep.
What happened with BB last night was as unique as a goalie scoring during five-on-five hockey. He and this sassy girl joked. They had conversation. They fucked.
When he returned from tossing the condom, he found BB sound asleep on the couch. In every other situation, Wolfe would have dressed and returned to his own home, but he didn’t last night.
Instead, for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand, he climbed back onto the couch pulling BB tight against his chest. Crushed together, Wolfe quickly found his own slumber.
What in the hell was wrong with him? Wolfe found himself so far outside of his comfort zone. He didn’t know how to navigate the overwhelming feeling of his need to protect her, to consume her.
His body craved to tell her his deepest secrets, but to what end? Wolfe had no clue, he just knew that he wanted to be near her, be with her.
Only right now Aspen wasn’t pressed against him, nor was she even in the apartment by the sounds of silence that filled the space.
Wolfe moved to a sitting position, stretching his neck to work out the kinks that would dog him all day. Well worth the sacrifice of crimped muscles having spent an incredible night with a woman who had him twisted in knots at the moment.
Now what in the hell was he supposed to do?
“Quit being a pussy, that’s what,” Wolfe said out loud and stood to find the clothes he’d shed during their post Wheel of Fortune shenanigans.
He really was off-kilter when he started thinking in Dante-speak.
Shenanigans. Jesus.
As Wolfe zipped up his jeans, he spotted a note scratched on a neon-colored Post-it.
Stay as long as you’d like. Had to bake before heading to yoga class—Talk soon. Aspen.
Thoughts of that sweet, lithe body getting all twisty in a yoga class offered him a sneak peek at all of the ways he planned to take her.
Although he wasn’t quite sure about anything involving the two of them beyond epic sex, he knew things seemed... different with her, and that scared the ever-loving shit out of him.
Hopefully, he could prevent his head from developing scenes where all of the garbage from his past pushed, prodded and poked until it spoiled the present.
Unfortunately, he somehow knew deep within himself down to the marrow of his bones that BB wouldn’t stop her prying until she learned all that made him tick.
The question was would it all blow up around him or could he abate her intuitiveness and keep her at arm’s distance without baring his pathetic soul to her?
Wolfe folded the navy-blue blanket that covered them after their couch session.
With one last look around her place, he locked the door behind him and headed home.