“I have the perfect dog for you. Come with me.”
The worker leads us past dog pens. They have instructions and information pinned to their metal doors. Rosie’s curvy bum wiggles, capturing my stare. It’s full and perfect, like her. I want to grab it. In joggers and a hoodie branded with my surname, it’s like she’s mine. I track her legs as she chats to the shelter employee.
“He sounds good, doesn’t he, Niki?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder at me. I meet her gaze, but it’s too late. She raises her right brow. “Distracted by something, boss?”
I shake my head. My cheeks heat. Old me would have bent her over and fucked her by now, but I can’t look at her bum without becoming shy.
I rush to apologise, but she stops me with a wink and a smile. “Before you meet this dog, you need to close your eyes so he can have your full attention.”
“Rosie,” I warn.
“Trust me. I won’t let you down. Close your eyes.”
I grumble as I follow her demands.
“Is it okay if I take your hand?” she says, standing close.
All I see is black, but I’m hyperaware of the smells around me. Dog food and damp radiate, but I smell Rosie, too. Her scent of soap and honey makes me take a deep breath.
“I’ll take care of you, and you know the safe word,” she whispers close to my ear.
As I hold out my hand, my body trembles. I can do this. I can let Rosie touch me and take this tentative step. Her skin brushes mine, warming me. It sends sparks to my chest. I crave her. I crave this. My pulse rises as she walks me a couple of steps.
Her small, soft hand fits perfectly in mine. I lick my lips, imagining it running through my hair, sliding down my bare chest. My skin tingles.
I don’t want her to let go. It’s like over a year of keeping away from people has been eradicated by this one touch.
I’m not foolish enough to believe that, but then she steps close and whispers in my ear, “You’re doing really well. You’re scared, but you’re incredible.”
The tickle of her breath against my skin sends blood straight down. I will myself not to get hard enough to tent my joggers.
I’ve denied myself, refusing to feel too much because I can’t give her what she deserves. Yet with her soft fingers pulling me forward as she whispers, I’m struggling to consider anything but the memory of her kiss.
“In three seconds, I want you to open your eyes,” she says. Hair brushes my cheek. It must be her ponytail. The scent of honey accompanies it. Something so minor against my skin makes my body ache. Everything comes alive, and I don’t want her to release me. I want more. “Three, two, one.”
She drops my hand, and I blink against the light.
“Meet Graham,” she says, referring to a British bulldog with massive jowls and little brown ears.
I focus on the dog. “Graham?”
“Yes. He’s had a tough life. His first owner died, and then another family rejected him because they said…” Rosie tiptoes to whisper in my ear, and a tickle starts in my heart and moves down. She leans in to tentatively cup my face. She raises her eyebrows, and I nod. I want to tell her she never needs to ask me, because she can touch my body however and whatever way she wants.
“Because?” I rasp.
“Because,” she says breathily, “they said he wasn’t pretty enough.”
“Bastards,” I grunt.
I step closer to the wire door, and Graham’s eyes widen. Iswear he beams. His little nub of a tail tries to wag. “Hello, Graham. Aren’t you beautiful?”
It takes him a while to get off his butt, because some might suggest he’s a bit of a lump, but he does it, and his tail wobbles as he walks to the bars.
Rosie kneels, and I squat beside her. This place is a little dirtier than I’ve allowed myself to be before, but as I get a whiff of Rosie’s soap and meet Graham’s chocolate brown eyes, I cope.
“Do you know why I’m called Niki and Senna’s called Senna?” I whisper to Rosie, too scared to break the magic.
“No,” she whispers.
