It makes no damn sense.
Fuck it.
I lean down toward her, ready to claim her lips in the most possessive way, crushing my passion against hers until she has no choice but to shiver under my irrepressible need.
But then the door behind me rattles in the frame, Lucky’s paws making scraping noises as he desperately tries to get out here and see what’s going on.
“Alright, little guy,” I say, leaning away from her, turning and wondering if she knows what was about to happen. “Calm down. We’re coming.”
I move to the door, glancing back at Daniella as Lucky makes more commotion on the other side of the door.
“Stand back,” I tell her firmly, using the same unwavering tone I’d use when giving her direction in the bedroom.
She snaps to follow my command with the same passion and obedience she will when I strip her naked and show her who she belongs to.
She folds her hands in front of her, biting her lip in that tantalizing way again, glancing at the door as nerves shimmer up and down her captivating body.
“Calm, boy,” I say, turning the door handle slowly. “Take it easy.”
I get ready to leap in Lucky’s way if he gets overexcited and charges at Daniella. He’s not an aggressive dog, but his time in the trashcan – and presumably on the streets before that – has made him anxious when he can scent something new and unusual outside his door.
It’s the same way my whole world starts to tip upside down when I scent something new and unusual in my world.
When I can scent my woman.
And the life she’s going to give me.
Fuck.
I need to focus.
Even if it’s damn near impossible with Daniella’s breathing picking up like that, racing like she’s getting ready for all the hungry things I’m going to do to her.
Chapter Four
Daniella
I stare at the broadness of Dom’s back as he grabs the door handle in his massive paw and starts to slowly turn it. Even that small movement causes the muscles in his behemoth’s body to twitch and throb suggestively, making my heart pound up into my throat.
I try to tell myself to focus on the dog on the other side of the door, Lucky, his whines anxious as he claws at the wood. Lucky’s why I’m here, not to ogle Dom and fill my mind with impossible fantasies.
But why was he leaning down so close to me like that, his face almost pressed right up against mine?
For a crazy second – a ridiculous second – I thought he was going to kiss me. He was so close, our noses almost tickling each other, his dark eyes staring into me like I was the answer to a question he never even knew he wanted to ask.
I clench my fists, squeezing hard to push away the crazy flow of my thoughts, focusing on the door instead.
Dom opens it slowly, glancing at me over his shoulder with a pensive expression on his face and his jaw tight. He’s probably thinking about how unfocused I look, standing here biting my lip studying his back when I should be getting ready to greet Lucky.
He sounds like an energetic boy, scraping at the wood, and something shivers in my gut when a thought occurs to me.
Do they lock him in here?
I don’t care how handsome Dom is. If somebody locks a dog in a room all day by themselves, I’ll hate them, simple as that.
Dom opens the door and steps back, leaning down and making doggy-speak noises I never would’ve expected from a man as gruff and tall and powerful-looking as him.
“Who’s a good boy, Lucky?” he says, rubbing the dog behind the ears as he leaps up on his leg and places his forepaws on his hips. “Who’s the best boy in the world? Who’s an adventurous boy, huh?”
I stare at Lucky as my heart floods with light.
He’s got the body of a Border Collie but the spotted hair of a Dalmatian, except his coat, is long, his beard especially giving him an old-man look, even if his movement and his general coloring tell me he’s probably in his late puppy-teens.
Dom kneels, wrapping his arms around Lucky’s body, stroking him softly as Lucky turns to me and tilts his head, deciding whether or not he likes me.
His tail is perky and alert, ready to rise to the challenge, and his face is so adorable I almost turn to a puddle of goo right there.
“Hello, boy,” I say, kneeling slowly. “Who’s a good boy, hmm? Who’s a happy boy?”
Lucky’s tail twitches, softly at first, and then it starts to sway faster as I slowly bring my hand to his body. I softly trail my fingernails up his side, ready to move away if he doesn’t like it, but he twists to sniff my hand and then nuzzles my palm in the cutest possible way, telling me he wants head scratches.