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)
I can’t help but wonder… “What?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Nothing. Just imagining you on all fours, that hood on, and maybe a tail. Something to think about.” I wink, Evan flushes, and then with a smile, I walk out of his room.
Once I’ve showered and cleaned up, I don’t go to sleep. I get into bed with my laptop and continue my search. If I’m doing this with him, I sure as shit want as much knowledge as I can, so I don’t fuck it up. As my eyes scan site after site, article after article, my pulse bangs against my skin, an excited flutter fills my chest, making me realize, I’m happier than I’d expect that we’re doing this, that we’re trying it.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re being awfully quiet,” Jackson asks as we clean the bus at the end of our day.
I haven’t stopped thinking about Evan and puppy play. We ignored the topic this morning, we’ve texted back and forth like normal today, and I’m driving myself crazy, wondering if he changed his mind, if we’re really going through with this, how far we’ll take it and on and on which I have to admit, is a little annoying. I don’t typically obsess about things like this. Not when it has to do with myself. I’m real good at sticking my nose in other people’s business, but I’m usually really fucking easygoing about my own life. As long as I’m a good person, treat people well, have a shit load of fun, a shit load of sex, play my guitar from time to time, and never become anything like my sperm donor, I’m good.
But this…this puppy thing has been playing through my head all goddamned day, and I know it’s not only because I know Evan wants this but because I’m becoming more and more intrigued by it too.
It felt…good, praising him last night. Petting him. Getting rewarded with soft whimpers and growls that, on a strange level, made me feel like I was doing something good, something right.
Something I desire.
“Hello? Are you in there? Is your beanie too tight tonight?” Jackson asks with a grin and I roll my eyes.
“Regular fucking comedian.” Playfully, I push him, but Jackson is a fucking tank and doesn’t budge.
“Seriously, are you okay? I know you had a hard time the other day.”
“Look who suddenly wants to talk. I’ve been trying to get your ass to open up to me for years and suddenly you become Derek’s daddy, and you’re all about feelings and emotions.”
“I sort of want to make a joke about you opening my ass, which is strange for me too.”
We both laugh together. Christ, love does some crazy shit. It’s changed Jackson in so many ways.
“I think you’re the ass-opener and that boy of yours is much more eager to open up for you than I would be. And yeah, I’m okay. It has nothing to do with the woman from the other day.” Evan and Jackson are the only two people who know about my past. About the abuse my mom suffered at the hands of my sperm donor.
“I’m tired as hell, though,” I continue. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Because I was researching puppy play…Evan is going to be my pup…
“As long as you’re sure,” Jackson replies. “I’m here, man. I know I’m not the best at showing it, but I’m here.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” I tease, and he shakes his head with a smile.
For just a moment, I wish I could share the puppy-play thing with him. Jackson would get it. He has no experience, but he’d understand, being Derek’s daddy and all, but I would never betray Evan’s confidence like that.
And, I think there’s a part of me that likes the idea of keeping this as ours too. Of protecting it.
9
Evan
I’m practically skipping behind the counter at the Feisty Fox.
Bradley, who’s working the midshift with me, keeps eyeing me as I fix the drink orders that he takes at the register.
It’s funny how natural working the espresso machine comes to me now, considering when I first started, I thought I’d never get the hang of using the milk frother or figuring out the correct ingredients for the different lattes we have on the menu. But now, it all seems like second nature.
When Bradley and I finally get a break in customers for the afternoon, I slide my phone out of my pocket and peek at messages Frankie sent me—a couple of pictures he found online. The first are a few collars. Under a blue one, the message reads, “I think this one would look hot with your hood.”
Last night, I had such a great time looking through information about puppy play with Frankie.
It made me feel less judged…less weird for being into it.
I don’t know how much he’s really into it, but it meant a lot knowing that he’s willing to be there for me through this.