Page 4 of Witchwolf

“Should I call my driver?” I mumbled against his neck.

Dakota’s brow wrinkled. “You have... a driver?”

Laughing, I shrugged. “Parking’s a hassle. Do you want to come home with me?”

The way his cheeks flooded with color was the cutest damn thing I’d ever seen, at odds with the tight clinging of his tank top, the sinful dip of his collar and that little divot between his pectorals that I wanted to kiss.

“Yeah.”

I shot Charles a message and within minutes, I was holding Dakota’s hand so we didn’t lose each other as I dragged him away. It wouldn’t have mattered—the wolves in the club backed off when I moved through the crowd, making way for us to get out, but I liked the feel of his soft hand in mine.

On the sidewalk, Charles was ready to open the car door for us. I let Dakota climb in first, and caught Charles’s smirk from the corner of my eye.

“Home, sir?”

I scowled at him. Charles had been my friend longer than he’d been my driver, despite being older than my father—hell, maybe older than my grandfather. Or his grandfather. It was hard to tell with fae.

He’d simply needed a job, and I needed someone to cart my ass around while I did conference calls in the back seat.

He knew Jillian had sent me out to blow off some steam, but usually, going to Howl meant getting a drink, maybe slipping into one of the back rooms if I was feeling relaxed enough to let someone close.

That wasn’t an option here. I wasn’t parading a well-fucked mage through a club full of wolves when I was done with him. He wouldn’t make it to the door before someone else was pawing at him.

I didn’t bring men home.

Except tonight.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Charles shut the door after me. By the time he got into the front, I’d put up the privacy screen. Us wolves weren’t exactly wilting and demure, but I thought Dakota might appreciate the privacy, given what I wanted from him.

Before the car even rumbled, I slipped my arm behind him and dragged him in. His lips were just as sweet as they’d been in the club, and the way he responded, wiggling closer to me, was just fucking perfect.

Dakota caught his breath, and I pressed my advantage, losing myself in the taste of him.

The denim squeezing his legs was rough, but his leg beneath was firm. I slid my hand up from his knee, inside his thigh, grinning into our kiss when I cupped his groin to find his dick already hard and straining.

“Can’t wait to get you home and taste this,” I said with a squeeze.

Dakota moaned, coming off the seat. I caught him, slid my arm behind his arched back, and pulled him into my lap. As we kissed, he rocked against me, and I wondered if I could strip him bare and get him off before the journey ended.

I didn’t realize we’d arrived home until Charles was opening the car door for us. Cool spring air filled the car, and if it weren’t for the promise of spreading Dakota out over my glorious bed upstairs, I’d have jerked the door shut and filled the back of the car with the scent of his overheated skin.

One brief walk to the door and upstairs was all that remained between me and peeling those skin-tight black jeans from Dakota’s lithe legs. I could hold it together a few more minutes.

And sure, part of me wanted to show off my house to the little mage. We weren’t all beasts who lived in the woods murdering innocent bunnies with a snap of our fangs and swallowing them raw.

I hadn’t always had wealth like this, but now that I did, yes, I wanted to flaunt it to the kind of person who would doubt it most.

When I got out of the car, I held out a hand to help Dakota up. Even as he took it, he was blinking dazedly at my house. “You live here?”

A slow smile spread across my face. “Want to come inside?”

For a second, he caught his lips between his teeth. They disappeared in a thin line, but when I swiped my thumb over the back of his hand, he pulled himself out of it.

“Yeah.”

“Will you need anything else, sir?” Charles asked.

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