And…to something else.
I’m not sure what to do about these…feelings. Right now, though, I don’t honestly care. I kiss her shoulder, then several of those freckles that have somehow knocked me to my knees.
She murmurs happily, like she’s sex drunk, and it’s the best sound ever.
Too bad it comes with a growl.
What the…?
I peer over the side of the bed. One little dog has a very big opinion. Simon’s staring at me from the floor. “Your dog. He’s definitely giving me the side-eye,” I say.
With a soft laugh she says, “Well, that’s because he wants to be on the bed, silly.”
I look down at the crown jewels. “Pretty sure I don’t want him on the bed right now.”
“Like I’ve said before…you’re mean.”
I tie off the condom, grab the fluffy bath towel from the bed, and pad to the bathroom. When I return a minute later, Simon’s resting dog face is even stronger, directed squarely at me. “My god. How do you deal with that?” I ask Skylar, feeling a little admonished by her pet.
With an easy shrug, she says, “I make money off it.”
“Reasonable,” I concede.
She takes her turn in the bathroom, and as I straighten up a little, the Doxie mix stares at me with canine contempt.
I feel…shamed by him. “I didn’t disrespect her,” I say, pleading my case to the dog.
He’s unrelenting though. Just stares harder. It’s weird, since I’m naked. I grab some boxers and stuff my legs into them. There. I feel a little better. Still, I’m compelled to defend myself to the judge and jury of one. “I swear. It was all consensual.”
Skylar cracks up from the doorway. “Are you trying to reason with Simon?”
“Yes!” I say, thrown off by the pup staring at me from the floor. “He’s freaking me out.”
“You have a dog too,” Skylar observes.
“I know, but she doesn’t stare at me like that,” I say, flapping my arm toward Zamboni, who’s curled up peacefully in a fluffy gray dog bed in the corner of the room.
“That’s also why she doesn’t have a line of merch. Simon has a lot of opinions, okay?”
“What is he judging me for? I didn’t defile you,” I say, worked up more than I expected over a dog’s consternation. But then again, I’ve never experienced anything like this before.
“You kind of did, and I liked it,” she says in a sexy purr that nearly makes me forget the dog’s watchful stare.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I did,” I say, then move closer, looping an arm around her naked waist and pulling her close.
She sets a hand on my chest. “But he’s probably critiquing you.”
“For what?”
“Ford, you critiqued him, now he’s critiquing you! Youeven did doggy-style, and you expect him not to have notes?”
That’s it. She can’t go home tonight. I scoop her up, toss her over my shoulder, and carry her back to bed. When I set her down, I brace myself on my palms on either side of her shoulders. “Stay the night.”
“Give me a T-shirt and I will,” she says.
“You drive a hard bargain.” I hustle to the bureau and grab a Sea Dogs T-shirt with my name and number. I toss it to her. With a pleased-as-punch smile, she tugs it on.
It’s my turn to growl. She looks good in my number. She looks good in my gear. A streak of possessiveness I didn’t expect hits me square in the sternum as I return to the bed. I roam my hand down her bare leg. “So, you get off to me while watching videos of who knows what, you mention me on your podcast, you spy on me from your catio...” I blow out a satisfied breath. “Did I get that right?”
