10 PENELOPEIn the past week and a half, I’ve learned a lot about Wolfie Cox.
I’ve learned how steady and comforting his heartbeat feels against my cheek when I’m lying on his chest, and the way it speeds up when my fingers lace with his. I’ve learned how he tastes first thing in the morning, his lips pressing sleepily to mine. I’ve learned what makes him anxious and what turns him on, sparking that dangerous flicker in his stormy eyes. He’s let me see a deeper, softer side of him that very few have seen before. A side that I’m drawn to like a moth to a flame.
But none of this intimate knowledge of him is doing me any good right now. As I stare blankly into my pantry, I’m realizing the downside of skipping straight to the heavy stuff. I haven’t managed to learn a single thing this man lik
