Page 64 of Awakening the Sheriff

So I was on my way to his house, sighing with relief when I pulled into his driveway. Tonight, I would be Keaton. Not Dad, not a teacher, not a frustrated ex-husband. Just Keaton. The lover part of me would finally be let out again.

Gosh, I hoped Auden was in the mood.

He opened the door before I’d even reached it, and the way he pulled me inside and claimed my mouth inspired confidence that, yes, sex was going to happen. Auden pushed his tongue into my mouth, and I appreciated bossy, sexy Auden. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to go for it.Sign me up.

I leaned back long enough to take off my glasses and shove them into my pocket, then surrendered to his mouth, his tongue, and his hands, which roamed my body. For someone who was out of practice, as he claimed, his fingers were sure nimble enough to drag my long-sleeve polo over my head. I’d made it easy for him by not wearing one of my usual shirts—way too many buttons. He, however, was wearing a button-down, and I cursed as I worked to get it open.

“Are we going too—”

I simply kissed him again, going by touch on the buttons. When I dragged the shirt down his arms, I stepped back and looked at what I had unpacked. I’d always had a weakness for men in jeans, especially with a naked chest, and Auden was the best example I’d ever seen. His chest was broad, packed with muscles, and covered in gorgeous chest hair. It tapered down to his waist, and what I loved was that he didn’t have a six-pack. No, he had some roundness, some softness that only made him sexier.

And those thighs… The jeans stretched tightly around them. I’d seen tree trunks that were smaller, and I couldn’t wait to feel his legs wrapped around me. We weren’t there yet, but we would be soon if it were up to me.

I ran my hands through the fur on his chest. No man had the right to be this sexy, this perfect. He literally checked all my boxes.

“You’re practically purring.” Auden grinned.

“Mmm, can you blame me? You are onefine-looking man.”

“You make me feel sexy.”

The naked vulnerability in his words stopped me in my tracks. “You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

I took his hand and pressed it against my cock, which was like iron. “That’s just from looking at you, kissing and admiring your body. We’ve barely started yet.”

He growled in the back of his throat, then brought our hands to the hard bulge in his jeans. “You showed me yours.” His voice was hoarse. “This is mine.”

He was as hard as I was, and a rush flew through me. I hadn’t doubted he wanted me, not really, but to see and feel the undeniable evidence was the affirmation I hadn’t known I needed. “What do you want to do? What are you comfortable with?”

“Comfortable?” He let out a low chuckle. “I’m about as uncomfortable as can be, so far out of my comfort zone I wouldn’t even know where to start. I have no clue what I’m doing, so you’ll have to help me here, okay? But I want everything. Anything you’ll give me. As long as we navigate it together.”

This man. How did he always have the right words? How could he be this honest and vulnerable yet so confident and irresistible at the same time? The man was a walking contradiction. “I would love it if you’d be up for fucking me, but we can work our way up there.”

He caressed my cheek. “You prefer bottoming?”

“I do. I’ve topped, but it’s not what I’m in the mood for.”

“I’m not sure I’d enjoy bottoming, but I’m willing to try. Down the line.”

I leaned in for a kiss. “That’s fine, and if you don’t like it or change your mind and don’t wanna try, that’s fine too. It’s not a must for me.”

He nodded. “Can I make one request, though?”

“What is it?”

“Can we move this upstairs?” He gestured at his front door. “That frosted glass doesn’t blur out everything, and I’d hate for someone to come to the door and get an unexpected eyeful.”

I snorted. “No free porn shows, huh?”

“Not part of my job description, I’m afraid.”

“Bedroom it is.”

I followed him up the stairs. His bedroom was small, with a queen bed and matching nightstands against one wall and a five-drawer dresser against the other. He’d painted the wall behind the bed marine blue, the others creamy white, and the combination was masculine, if a tad uninspired. I walked toward the bed and smelled the detergent drifting from the bed linen. “You changed the bed.”

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