Penelope
I can't pinpoint exactly what it is that wakes me up so early.
Maybe it's the soft light of daybreak bleeding through the windows, or the chill lingering in the air. Other potential culprits include the soft snores coming from the sleeping man beside me. Regardless, it can't be much later than six a.m. when I blink out of my sleep and into the cold, white morning.
From the looks of it, the snow has stopped, although by the size of the drifts, I'm guessing it kept up late into the night. The sun is just above the horizon, scattering its rays over the bright white mounds of snow. It's like a painting out there, a serene aftermath to last night's storm.
But it doesn't matter how pretty it is. It's also freaking freezing. As my chill turn to full-on shivers, I cuddle closer to Wolfie in a desperate search for warmth.
He stirs, letting out a grumble as he turns toward me, gathering me up in his arms. "You cold?"
I nod, pulling the scratchy wool blanket up to my chin.
His body heat kept me warm most of the night, but without the fire, the house has gotten truly cold. It probably doesn't help that my clothes are piled in a heap on the floor, and I certainly didn't pack pajamas.
Regrets? I have none.
Wolfie shoves back the blankets and tugs on his boxers before trudging over to rebuild the fire. I watch him closely, admiring the way the morning light coats him in a warm, angelic glow.
Wolfie is no angel. He's made that perfectly clear. But whatever demons from his past turned him into the rough, broken man he is today, he didn't let them stop him last night.
I feel strangely proud. And now, watching the muscles of his back flex and contract as he rebuilds our fire, I'm praying he can keep those demons at bay long enough for him to open up again, or maybe long enough to let me touch him again.
It's a dangerous thought. Especially with how masculine and delicious he looks wearing only boxers, building me a fire just because I said I was cold.
Once the fire is steadily burning, he returns to our nest of blankets, folding me back into his arms, his front to my back. His body is sturdy beneath me, but there's a softness about him that I can't quite describe. This man is full of beautiful contradictions.
"You sleep okay?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin behind my ear.
"Like a baby. What about you?"
He pulls me tighter to him until I can feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating between my shoulder blades. "Better than I have in months. Thanks for that."
"I'm sure the bourbon may have helped too."
A low chuckle vibrates through him. "Nah. I think it was mostly you."
"Whatever you say," I murmur, trying to play it cool. In reality, my chest is swelling with pride. I like knowing that I may have contributed to his anxiety subsiding for the night. Anything I can do to quiet that unease of his.
Shifting in his arms, I turn to meet Wolfie's sleepy gaze, admiring how the firelight dances in his gray eyes. The flames bring out little specks of green that I've never noticed before. I guess there's plenty about Wolfie that I've yet to discover, and I want to know it all. Starting with memorizing the way he kisses.
I close what's left of the distance between us, and he captures my lips with his, our tongues touching in an easy, sleepy rhythm.
I'm relieved to find that what happened between us last night wasn't just a dream. Every touch is curious and each caress is gentle. This man is such a contradiction, my head spins with each new side of him that's revealed. As we kiss, his hand slips from my waist, tracing the curve of my hip with the pads of his fingers until he's gently cupping the warmth between my thighs.
Well, good morning to you too.
I hum my approval, rocking myself desperately against his palm, but he keeps the heel of his hand pressed firm against me, his fingers barely brushing against the tender flesh between my legs. He teases me with soft, lazy strokes, my body tensing and flinching against each one.
Fuck. He's going to take his time with me.
A shudder rolls through me as he drags one finger through my wetness, then begins tracing maddeningly slow circles against my most sensitive spot.
I let out a desperate moan. Going slow with him is one thing, but with me? That's much, much harder. This man is going to test my patience to its limits. My hips twitch beneath his touch, but he keeps his infuriating pace until I can't hold back anymore.
"Wolfie, please." His name pours from my lips on a low, breathy sigh.
I can't take any more of his slow torture. My hips buck, chasing the release I so desperately need. He finally gives in to me, his expert fingers quickening until my wavering breaths shift to quick, urgent gasps.
"God, yes," I cry out on a harsh whisper. "Wolfie, I'm so close."
"Mmm," he hums, nipping gently at my ear. "Come then, sweetheart. Come for me."
No sooner do the words leave his lips than every muscle within me is contracting, pushing me toward a long, drawn-out release that pulses through me in white-hot waves. It goes on and on until I'm dizzy and panting.
Good fucking Lord, that was worth the wait.
"Holy hell." I pant, trying desperately to steady my breath.
He chuckles, sweeping my hair away from my face with the side of his hand. "Not a bad way to wake up," he says with a smirk.
I toss back the blanket, suddenly not feeling so cold anymore, and am met with a gorgeous sight-a stiff erection tenting Wolfie's boxers. Now it's my turn to smile.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I cautiously slip a thumb beneath his elastic waistband, my eyes searching his for approval. "May I?"
He swallows, then nods, letting me help him out of his boxers again. I pick up where I left off last night, right before he stopped me. This time, instead of pulling my hand away, he grunts with pleasure as my hand works up and down his shaft in firm strokes.
A deep sound rumbles in his wide chest. "Fuck. That's good."
After everything he shared with me last night, it feels like such a treat to touch him. A privilege, even. But just as I begin to hit my stride, I'm interrupted again-not by Wolfie, but by a knock at the door.
"Fucking shit." He grunts, fumbling for the blanket and pulling it up and over our nakedness. His eyes widen, blinking with horror at the door. "Who the fuck?"
Frantic, we scramble to get dressed, careful to avoid any sight lines into the living room from outside the window. Wolfie is clothed and on his feet first, snatching up the blankets and pillows from the floor and tossing them into a closet.
When he heads for the door, I'm only a few steps behind him. He tugs it open, and we're greeted with a rush of cold air and a very confused, very bundled-up Connor.
Talk about an unwelcome guest.
"Um, good morning?" My brother's eyebrows furrow beneath his winter hat, his gaze bouncing between Wolfie and me. "Penelope, what are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" I snap, folding my arms over my chest. How ironic, the unexpected visitor gets an unexpected visitor. Except at least when I showed up, I didn't interrupt anyone's sexy time.
"I figured Wolfie was snowed in," he says, lifting the snow shovel in his grip.
Shit. That makes a lot more sense than my reason.
Connor blinks at me expectantly, waiting for my excuse. I fumble over my words, the nervous energy bubbling higher and higher into my throat. What am I supposed to say?
Nothing to worry about here, Connor. I just followed your roommate across state lines for an unexpected evening of oral sex. It's fine, everything's fine!
Before I can say anything I'll absolutely regret, Wolfie intervenes, his voice cool and measured.
"I needed an extra set of hands," he says, one shoulder barely lifting in the slightest shrug. "Made good on the favor she owed me after I went to that work retreat with her."
Relief floods through my system. Thank God Wolfie is a better liar than I am.
Connor nods, seemingly buying into this reasoning. "Cool. Well, unless three's a crowd, I figured I could help out too."
"Thanks. We could use it," Wolfie grunts out. "I'll get my boots."
Panic attack averted, I exhale a shaky breath as Wolfie stalks across the room. Connor says something about locating more snow shovels in the shed and heads back outside.
That was a seriously close call.
I wouldn't have a problem with Connor knowing that I hooked up with Wolfie, but I'm guessing Wolfie might. He's so private, and I'm not sure he wants my brother knowing about this. It could cause a rift in their friendship, and possibly their working relationship. Who knows? It's thin ice, that's for sure. Connor would probably feel blindsided.
While the men head outside to dig our cars out of the winter wonderland, I focus on the most important chore of all-breakfast. I get the coffeepot humming and gurgling, then head for the pantry, where I manage to scrounge up an unopened box of pancake mix. Fortunately, it's the just add water kind. If there were any eggs or milk here, they'd definitely be long expired. By the time the boys return to the house, I've got three short stacks piled up on plates and a full mug of coffee poured for each of us.
"Oh, hey there, Little Suzy Homemaker," my brother teases, kicking off his snowy boots and shrugging out of his coat. "It smells fucking amazing in here."
"I figured you'd both worked up an appetite this morning." I shoot Wolfie a coy grin, hoping he knows I'm referring to the appetite he worked up under the blankets this morning, but he can hardly force a strained half smile before dodging my gaze.
Ohhh-kay then.
Hello, awkward morning after. I was wondering if I'd see you here.
We settle in at the table, the guys on one side and me on the other, and make quick work of our pancakes as we divvy up the rest of the winterizing chores. As much as Connor's arrival was unexpected, many hands do make light work, and he's going to make things go a whole lot faster this morning.
With full bellies and the power of caffeine, we manage to get everything on the checklist taken care of in under two hours. Even Wolfie is impressed, although you wouldn't know it by the permanent frown he's had plastered on his face since my brother walked through the door.
Jeez, this is uncomfortable.
The second Connor showed up, vulnerable Wolfie was long gone, leaving his cold, grumpy self. Great.
With the chores mostly completed and the dishes washed, it's as good a time as any for me to make my way back to the city. Connor powers down the vacuum long enough to give me a hug good-bye and a quick lecture on driving in icy conditions.
"Wolfie's scraping off his car, by the way. If you wanna say good-bye on your way out."
I nod, gulping down the nerves clogging my throat.
There's a lot more than good-bye that I'd like to say to Wolfie, but I'm not about to risk Connor watching us through the window. Especially not with how wooden Wolfie has been acting toward me since his roommate arrived. I don't want to put him in a position that would make him uncomfortable.
Once I'm bundled up, I head out to the driveway, where Wolfie has finished scraping off his own car and has moved on to mine. A grin pulls at the corner of my lips. The man is sour one second, and then he's sweet. So confusing.
"Thanks for that."
He startles a little at the sound of my voice, then glances toward the window for signs of Connor before allowing the slightest smile to spread across his lips. "No problem."
"And thanks for, well, for everything. You know what I mean."
His head dips in a small nod, giving nothing away. Even his eyes have a vacant, detached look. "You too. Drive safe, Penelope."
A long, awkward silence stretches between us, the kind of silence meant to be filled with one of those sweet, easy kisses he treated me to this morning. But I know better than to do anything so risky.
Instead, I give him a two-fingered wave and climb into my car, praying for salted roads and effective four-wheel drive. Because even with my eyes on the road and my grip on the steering wheel, I'm in for a long, distracted trip home, courtesy of the enigma that is Wolfie Cox.