The Wolf and the Sheep (Wolf 1)

Like the annoying little pest she was, she stayed. With her large eyes, she looked at me as if she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t leave her full lips. With only one strap to her dress, her other shoulder was bare. Just like her face, her shoulder had the most beautiful complexion, skin that looked as soft as a rose petal.

The longer she stayed, the more annoyed I became. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.” I stepped toward her, attempting to intimidate her with my size. I always had to kick women out of my room, but I’d never had to force someone like this. Sometimes I had to be an asshole to get what I wanted, but I never had to be such an asshole.

She stood her ground. “I’m worried about you.”

“Well, don’t be.” I didn’t need this woman to care about me like a real wife. She was just leeching off my protection, using me to keep psychopaths like Kamikaze away. I was tempted to tell her that a monster wanted her to sell pussy for cash, but I wasn’t that much of an asshole.

She looked up at me through those thick eyelashes, her eyes even more alluring with all the dark makeup surrounding them. Her dress wasn’t as revealing as the one she wore last week, but it still hugged her womanly curves in all the right places. With perky tits, a slender waist, and an ass so high, it seemed like she did squats every day, she had the kind of body a man was meant to grab on to.

“You don’t care whether I live or die. So, cut the shit.”

Hostility entered her expression. “That’s not true, and you know it—”

“Last week, you said you didn’t like me.”

“I meant that in a romantic way. I didn’t want to sleep with you because I don’t see you like that—”

“You know I wasn’t looking for romance. I never look for romance. I look for good sex—exclusively.” I stepped closer to her, hoping she would eventually give in and take a step back. But she stood her ground, letting our faces come so close to each other. “You don’t care about me, and that’s okay. Because I don’t care about you.” My eyes shifted back and forth as I looked into hers, seeing the insult slowly enter her gaze then fester. I wanted to hurt this woman so she would leave me alone. It’d been a long day—and I’d smoked and drunk way too much. When I made my point, I turned away.

She grabbed me by the arm, her slender fingers digging into my skin. Her grip was feisty, as if she was prepared to fight me in order to keep my attention. She yanked on my limb and pulled me back to her.

The only reason it worked was because I allowed it to happen. I turned back to her, prepared to yell in her face and strip her down to tears. The past week had been peaceful because she’d removed herself from my existence. But now she was grabbing me, like she somehow owned me.

Before I could say a word, she moved into me and planted her lips on mine, two soft clouds pressing against my scotch-soaked lips. Her fingers gripped me a little tighter once our lips came together, fitting perfectly just like last time.

The fight left my veins, all the insults dropping from my mind. Once I tasted a woman, I abandoned all thoughts of the outside world. All I focused on was the smell of her hair, the softness of her skin. I’d kissed this woman before, and it was just as good as last time—even better because she was the one who’d kissed me.

Was that the reason she’d come here tonight?

When she knew I wouldn’t slip away, her fingers relaxed on my arm and she kept kissing me, her lips more aggressive than last time. She breathed into my mouth as she caressed my bottom lip, her lips wet from the kiss.

I kissed her a little harder, my body finally humming to life when I realized this was real. My hand moved to her neck, and my fingers dug under the fall of her hair. When my arm wrapped around her petite waistline, she moaned into my mouth.

I guided her backward, gently pressing her into the wall next to the door. My mouth took hers harder, and I slipped my tongue into her mouth for the first time. Heat burned in my blood when I felt her small tongue greet mine, just as anxious.

My hand bunched up her dress, making it rise up her thighs until it reached her waist. She didn’t pull away when it got too intimate, not like last time. My fingers kept gripping, pulling it higher up until it gathered around her waist.