He shifts just enough to press more weight onto my thigh. Pure defiance. God, I love him.
Not in the big, dramatic, world-ending way the character in the book keeps moaning about, but in a soft way that makes the world seem less sharp.
Contentment rolls over me, softer than the blanket, sweeter than the tea, settling into all the little cracks I didn’t even know were there.
For the first time in I don’t know how long, everything feels right.
Easy.
Still.
A perfect night.
Jason was gone when I woke up this morning, but he sent me a text apologizing because he had to go to work. Happy sigh! Double happy sigh!
Tonight’s chapter turns into one of the steamy ones, all low moans and breathless confessions, and I didn’t even hear the buildup to it. My thoughts have been straying to my own steamy chapter. I’ve listened to a lot of steamy romance, and not one came even close to my own version. God, the dirty talk. The control—not in the way Meemaw tries to micromanage me these days, but in the “Listen, and I’ll give you pleasure beyond your imagination” kind of way.
The narrator talks about being a “good girl”. Hell, I never understood the appeal of all that until Human-Jason praised me. Now I’d walk over broken glass barefoot to hear him say it again.
Next, the narrator goes on about how he grabs her hand and places it on his hard cock. The narrator moans, and Jason shifts, restless.
Great. Perfect. Totally normal ambiance for a cozy night in with my dog.
Jason’s ears twitch. His tail flicks. His breathing changes—too alert, too aware. And every time the narrator groans or whispers something sinfully suggestive, Jason lets out a tiny sigh.
I pause the story mid-moan.
His head snaps up like I’ve finally regained my senses.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, covering my face. “Are you judging my choice of audiobook right now?”
He answers with a dramatic exhale through his nose.
I push a hand through his fur. “It’s fiction. Adults read romance. Nothing illegal is happening here.”
Another huff.
“You know what? You’re being very judgy for someone who licks his own—okay, stopping there.”
He shifts restlessly, as if he can feel the tension in the room and he strongly disapproves of it.
I roll my eyes, smiling despite myself. “Fine. I’ll skip ahead to a non-steamy chapter. Happy?”
He thumps his tail once. Smugly.
I fast-forward until the narrator’s tone calms down and the scandalous breathing stops echoing through the speakers.
“There,” I sigh, taking another sip of tea. “Wholesome. Innocent. PG-13.”
Jason settles again, chin returning to my thigh like order has been restored.
I stroke his back, feeling warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with tea or blankets or heaters.
“God, I love you,” I murmur.
He huffs, but it’s softer this time, and almost pleased.
Just as the tension finally melts out of the room, he sits up abruptly, whining low and urgently.
