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)
He reaches for the hood. “Wait,” I tell him before walking back over. “No, no, sit,” I say, and he puts his hands down, getting back into position.
I kneel, grab the sides of his hood, and look at him in the eyes. “Let go, Ev. You gotta shed everything else to do this. Stop thinking…stop worrying…just be a pup. You allow me to worry about everything, okay? There’s no one here except me and you. There’s nothing to worry about. I fucking love doing this with you. You’re not going to do anything wrong. You just gotta…surrender to it. Turn that brain of yours off and let your master take care of everything.”
It’s almost as if I can actually see the tension lift from his muscles, see it pull free and sort of…float away. I let go of him and he drops his head. I wait, count, get scared to fucking death I did or said something wrong and then…then he whimpers again. Pup Runt’s snout noses my hand and the gentle growl he gives me doesn’t sound as much like Evan trying, but more like Pup Runt.
“That’s a good boy. Such a good pup.” I scratch his neck, then bring my hand around and give his belly a quick rub. “Now, stay.” My damn pulse is beating like crazy against my skin when I stand up, walk backward until I’m in the same position, leaning against the couch.
I wait…count…watch. One minute, two minutes. I wonder if the time is killing him as much as it’s killing me. I’m hoping it helps him get into his own head, that he becomes that pup learning how to stay when he wants nothing but his person’s attention.
Patting my leg, I say, “Come’ere. I’m so proud of you. Such a good boy.” I hardly start to kneel before Pup Runt runs over to me, and Christ, I can’t help but imagine him in a jock, a tail tucked firmly between his ass cheeks wagging at me, but I have to admit, his ass looks pretty fine in his Andrew Christians, too.
“Such a good boy. Aww, I’m so damn proud of you.” I rub his sides, give him scritches, genuine happiness radiating off me. He leans in, nuzzling his snout into my neck, against my ear and damned if a laugh doesn’t tumble out of my mouth. There’s something so…fuck, so pure about this moment. All pretenses are dropped. No worry about how we look or what we say or what someone thinks. It’s genuine affection and happiness that I can tell he feels but that I experience too. Since I’m not the pup, I didn’t expect that part of it, but in this moment, it feels like he’s the happiest person in the world just to see me, to get attention from me. Like I’m his fucking air or something and the world revolves around me…well, I guess the way a real pup would do. You’re their world, and right now with Pup Runt feels that way too.
“Someone’s an excited boy. Do you want a treat?” I ask, and Pup Runt just whimpers, pushing his nose into me again, the way he’s supposed to. After pulling out another Reese’s, I put it in his mouth, the whole time telling him how good he is, how proud of him I am, and damned if there isn’t a real burst of pride in my chest. He did good, and I truly am pleased with him.
We practice sit for a little while, and I get him to stay again. This time, while he waits, I go into Evan’s room and grab the rubber bone we got at the leather store.
I swear his damn ears perk up, and he lets out a playful bark. “Does someone want his bone?” I ask. A shock of pleasure shoots through me, and damned if I’m not sort of wishing I could give him my bone to suck and play with.
I toss it and Pup Runt sits there, watching me as though he’s not sure what to do. Cocking my head, I study him trying to figure out if he really did manage to sink that deep into puppy space already or if he’s a little unsure playing fetch for the first time. I honestly can’t tell.
“Go get it,” I tell him. “Go on, go get it.”
Pup Runt takes off, running after it. He leans down, puts it in his mouth and scurries the other way. Laughter jumps out of my throat, genuine pleasure fueling me. “No, silly boy. Bring it here. You gotta bring it to me.”
The pup jumps onto the couch, bone between his teeth. Playfully, I roll my eyes as I walk over. “You’re missing the point of fetch, Pup. You’re supposed to bring it back to me.” I grab it and try to pull it free but he doesn’t let go, shaking his head. “Drop it,” I tell him but he still doesn’t. “Fine. You win this time.” Reaching around, I rub his neck. “You can keep it.”