“Get your ass over here right now, you traitor,” I order, pointing at the bed.
Instead of obeying like the good boy he’s been for years, Baby exhales dramatically, lays his head down in the crook of Wyatt’s arm, and lifts his paws to cover his face like he’s hiding. Wyatt throws his head back and laughs—which is totally unfair. The deep, rough sound rolls across my room and through my body, skating against every nerve ending in my body. Heat curls low in my belly. For a second, I forget how to breathe. No other man has ever made my body react with just a laugh. I try to ignore it. I fail miserably.
“Baby, now,” I snap, more flustered than commanding.
Wyatt’s laughter drops into a low rumble. “I want to hear you say those exact same words, just as demanding, when you’re begging me to let you come.”
My mouth falls open. I gasp as heat floods my body—and my panties. I’m so turned on that it’s painful to breathe. “You aretrying to steal my dog,” I accuse. “At this point, I don’t see us ever getting past this date.”
“We can skip the date if you want,” he suggests, amused.
A sharp little sting of disappointment hits my chest. Pain spreads until it feels like a killing blow. I hate that my pain bleeds into my voice. “Fine.”
“Good,” he drawls. “Now strip.”
“What?” Pure panic overtakes me. My whole body locks up. “You can’t be serious.”
“If you don’t want to go out, we won’t,” he says casually. “We’ll just fuck all night.”
My brain gives a dreaded blue-screen. I swear there’s a robotic voice in my head saying,“Danger, the operating system has encountered a critical problem it cannot recover from and must shut down to prevent further damage.”
He can’t say things like that in my bedroom, holding my dog while I’m in a dress that suddenly feels too tight and not nearly enough all at the same time. “You can’t be serious,” I repeat weakly.
“Oh, I am.” His gaze is hot, unyielding. His eyes promising wicked pleasures that I’ve never known—and desperately want to.
“I just want my dog back,” I say, and even I hear the whine in my voice.
“He’ll come to you. Just use his name,” he says.
“Baby is?—”
“I’m your baby,” he cuts in, eyes gleaming, looking perfectly predatory. “The dog’s name is Buddy.” I glare at him, imagining I’m Superman and my gaze turns into red beams of laser-filled heat. Sadly, Wyatt doesn’t disintegrate.
Figures.
“I hate you,” I mutter.
“No, you don’t,” he replies easily.
I grit my teeth. “Buddy, get over here. Now.”
Buddy—traitorous, conniving little fluff ball—immediately jumps down from Wyatt’s arms and trots straight to me like he’s been obedient this whole time. I bend down, scoop him up, and hold him against my chest.
“You’re a bigger asshole than Wyatt is,” I complain.
He yips at me like he agrees and even gives a tiny nod of his head.
I squint at Wyatt. “You did this. You’ve ruined my dog.”
Wyatt’s grin stretches wider as he pushes off the doorframe and crosses the room toward me. My heartbeat kicks up with every step he takes. He stops right in front of me, gently nudging Buddy from between us, and then his hands are at my waist, large and warm, pulling me in.Before I can say a word, Wyatt leans down and kisses me.
The world tilts.
His mouth is hot and firm, taking control like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My hands fly to his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. Wyatt tastes like mint and heat, and something wickedly forbidden. My knees go weak, and I have to lean into him to stay upright.
By the time he pulls back, I’m breathless, lips tingling, brain barely functioning.He stares down at me, eyes dark. “I haven’t stolen your dog,” he says softly. “Buddy just realized things much sooner than you are.”
I lick my lips, still tasting him. “What things?”
