Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
One thing that I do notice is that ethics and how you treat your pup plays a big part of it. Yes, there are people who use it to demean and people who want that—which hey, whatever floats your boat—but treating your pup right is important as well as making sure there’s no abuse.
“What do you think?” he asks, his voice hard to understand through the hood.
“Puppies don’t speak.” I cock a brow at him. “It says when you’re in gear or puppy space, you turn that part of yourself off.”
There’s a pause, and I wait, hoping I haven’t misread the situation. I guess we technically aren’t playing right now, but he has the hood on so…
And then slowly, like he’s really unsure about himself, Evan leans forward. He noses my hand with the puppy snout and gives me a soft whimper. A little jolt rips through me, this sort of need to nurture and protect surging to the surface. “That’s a good boy,” I tell him and then scratch his neck. “Are you my good boy?”
He whimpers again. Still giving him attention, I add, “That’s why you always liked me to play with your hair, isn’t it? Pup Evan was always in there, waiting to be set free.”
He shakes his head for a moment, and I can see he’s starting to pull out of it.
“I feel stupid,” he says, sits up, and then tugs the hood off. “I mean, it feels…it feels good, but then my thoughts keep breaking in telling me I’m strange or there’s something wrong with this.”
“It’s going to take time. I’m getting used to it too, but…I think I like it.”
His eyes widen. “You do?”
Evan has always been this strange mix of insecurity and strength. Of curiosity and fear. I know there’s a part of him that thinks I’m only doing this for him, and that he’s the only weird one, but at the same time, I also don’t think he believes anyone would care enough about him to do something just for him either.
His parents really fucked with him, and Peter made it a million times worse.
“Fuck, yes. I get to take care of you, play with you, make you feel good. Come on, you know me well enough to know that hits all my buttons.”
“I don’t know how far I want to take this.”
“We’ll play it by ear. When you need to be a pup, you tell me and if you don’t feel comfortable saying the words or we’re somewhere public, just come up to me and put your head on my shoulder or grab my hand or something and I’ll know.”
“Okay,” he replies.
“We’ll need to get you some more gear too. We don’t have to start out too heavy if you don’t want to, but you’ll at least need some kneepads.” Metropolis has polished cement flooring that would fucking kill him on all fours.
“And a toy…I want a toy.”
Another thrill of excitement shoots through me. Christ, I don’t know what it is about thinking of Evan as a pup—as my pup—that gets me going so much. I can’t help but wonder what else he’ll want. Collar? Leash? A tail? Or will he be more minimalistic with it? I’m good either way. “Okay, we’ll get some toys too. God, you’re so fucking cute.” I ruffle his blond hair.
When I go to pull away, Evan grabs my hand, makes me cup his cheek, and then nuzzles me. He closes his eyes and this sort of blissful expression washes over him that makes me tremble.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Frankie.”
“You’d be fine. All I am is your friend. Nothing hard in that and you’re stronger than you know.” He’s been through a whole hell of a lot, and he always comes back stronger on the other side.
“My best friend,” he replies and then adds, “My handler too.”
“I’m also annoying, a little obnoxious, overly protective, and too talkative, but who’s counting?”
He chuckles and then yawns.
“It’s late. We both work in the morning, so we should get some sleep. We’ll talk more about it later. Think on it, see how you want this to play out. If you just wanna play around at home or if you want to try some kind of class or something? A lot of those sites said it’s about community, so it might…you might like getting to know other pups, yeah? I’m sure Z could help us find someone for you if that’s what you want.”
“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” he replies before he leans forward and kisses my cheek. “Thanks, Frankie. I don’t know about other pups, but I know I couldn’t do this with anyone other than you. Not yet.”
Relief floods through me, heavy and swift. “That’s good because I don’t really want you to.”
I get out of bed, and Evan follows along after me. He sets his puppy hood on the bedside table and then pulls off his shirt. His skin is a pale white, his abs very clearly defined. He’s little, with such a slight bone structure, with toned, firm muscles.