The pit bull sniffed, then pressed forwards, his head butting her palm.She scratched gently, avoiding tender spots.“Good boy.You’re looking so much better.”
Jock watched, his expression soft, as the dogs vied for attention.
Inside, the house smelled like coffee and dog treats.Home.Her suitcase was abandoned in the hall as they settled on the couch, dogs piling on.Silly leaned into Jock, Maynard curling at her feet, Tank’s head on his lap.“This is perfect,” she sighed.
The conversation never flagged, Jock seeming as intent as she was to share each of the missed days between them.But as evening fell, the air shifted, and she shivered.Jock’s hand trailed up her arm, his touch igniting sparks.“Been thinking about you every night,” he murmured, lips brushing her ear.The dogs stirred, but he stood, pulling her up.“Boys, stay.”
They backed towards the bedroom, giggles escaping as Tank tried to follow.Jock closed the door firmly, muffling Maynard’s whine.“They’ll survive,” he said, turning to her with heat in his eyes.
The room was dim, lit by a bedside lamp casting golden shadows.Jock’s hands found her waist, pulling her close, his kiss slow and deep, savoring.Silly melted, her fingers tangling in his hair, bodies pressing.He walked her backward to the bed, then eased her down, his weight a welcome relief.
Clothes were shed with whispers and vows, her shirt slipping off, his tugged over his head.
“You’re beautiful,” she breathed.
His hands explored, unhurried, mapping her curves with reverence.Lips followed, trailing fire down her neck, collarbone, breasts.She arched, gasping, as he lingered, teasing with tongue and teeth.“Jake, please...”
He moved lower, kisses featherlight on her stomach, thighs, until she trembled.His mouth found her center, slow and sensual, drawing out moans that built like a crescendo.She clutched the sheets, lost in sensation, his rhythm patient, devoted.
When she shattered, he rose, shedding the last barriers, entering her with a groan.They moved together, unhurried, bodies syncing in a dance of intimacy.Eye contact held, souls bared, each thrust a whisper of love.“Silly...my Silly...”
Her next climax crested slow, and Jock was right there with her, their waves crashing in unison, leaving them breathless, entwined.He held her after, stroking her hair, the dogs’ distant whines a reminder of life outside.“Welcome home,” he whispered.
She smiled, content.“Best homecoming ever.”
The night deepened, but sleep evaded her at first, thoughts swirling.The show had been a success, providing great exposure, a few new clients, and a thousand ideas ricocheting around inside her head.But being away had clarified what mattered: this man, these dogs, their shared strengths.Maynard’s healing mirrored Jock’s, and hers, their tattoos covering old wounds, love mending the rest.
Morning light filtered in, Jock stirring beside her.The dogs scratched at the door, insistent.She laughed, pulling on a robe.“Duty calls.”
They let the boys in, a tumble of fur and joy.Breakfast was lazy, time ignored as they kissed over mugs of coffee and eggs.After, Silly sketched while Jock played with the dogs.
“We should get Maynard a proper tag for his collar,” she said, watching him romp pain-free.
Jock nodded.“And start training in earnest.I held off doing anything too intensive while he’s been healing.I think he’s ready.”
The day unfolded into boring and gloriously domestic walks, errands, and her showing off the various swag and samples she’d picked up for her tattoo shop crew.
“Oh, I meant to ask you.If I go to the show next year, what do you think about traveling with me?We could drive instead of flying, take the dogs with us?Rent a house instead of doing the hotel thing?”
“Oh, hell yeah.Can I be your assistant?I’d love handing you ink and needles.Does anyone else in the shop go to this one?”
“No, most of them like the Dallas show instead.That’s next month.We’re already scheduling around everyone but me being gone.”Hands still full of samples, she looked up at Jock.“You can be my assistant anytime, big boy.”
As the evening unfolded, they cooked dinner together, laughing at improvised ingredients.As they ate, she kept thinking of even more details to tell Jock about the show, the various tattoo and body artists she’d seen in action.
During a break in the conversation, Jock opened up a little bit.“Calder was a knockback for me.Took me back several steps I didn’t expect.”He was silent for a beat, then added, “Seeing Maynard thrive...It helps my own shit.”
She took his hand.“We’re all healing together.”
As stars emerged, they sat on the porch, dogs at their feet, planning out their futures.Silly held her breath as they touched on everything and nothing as the night wore on.Her introduction to the topic of babies was a sock in the belly, Jock immediately realizing the impact.
“Do you want babies?”His voice was quiet, intense.
“I do.Before I’m too old to enjoy them too.”She blew out a heavy breath, then another.“Don’t know why that’s scary to admit, but it is.”
“Babies?Plural?”Jock smiled at her, stretching out on the couch and bringing her down to lie on top of him.“That’s a lotta things to plan for.We’ll need a list.Hell, maybe several lists.”He kissed her softly, and she stared into his eyes, tearing up when he said, “I want babies too.Plural.”
“Not today, but someday.”She leaned forwards and kissed him soundly.
