“Hey, mate!” I cry out, grabbing him and bringing him up to my level. He’s wriggling so fast that he’s nearly impossible to grip, like holding onto a wet seal.
I’ve never been away from Lionel this long and some sorry part of me was afraid he wouldn’t remember me when I came back, but at least I know it’s not true. He’s already dropped a gallon of drool on me in terms of licks and kisses.
Kayla clears her throat from beside me and I’m brought back to reality.
“Kayla, this is Lionel,” I tell her, trying to push his face away from mine.
“Yeah, I get that. How about introducing me to the human?” she says smartly.
Right. That.
I give them both a chagrined smile and set Lionel on the floor. He’s about to jump up again when he spots Emily poking her head around the corner and immediately sets out after her.
“Sorry, sorry, my manners,” I say, knowing Amara totally understands. She’s used to it. “Kayla, this is my mate Amara. She works for me at the shelter. I’d be nowhere without her. Amara, this is Kayla. She’s…” And suddenly I draw a blank because I don’t know what she is. We haven’t really discussed anything within the terms of us yet.
“I’m staying with Lachlan,” Kayla finishes smoothly, shaking Amara’s hand. I eye Kayla carefully, wondering if she’s going to give Amara the side-eye. I won’t be surprised, nor will I be all that upset if she has a jealous streak, but even though Amara is striking with her Roman nose, fiery red hair, and freckles, Kayla is nothing but warm and genuine.
“Nice to meet you,” Amara says, looking briefly at me. Her face is composed, but I can stell she’s confused and shocked. I hadn’t exactly mentioned Kayla and in no way told Amara that a girl would be coming back with me. Luckily she takes it all in stride.
“So how was he, any trouble?” I ask, steering the conversation over.
“He really hates the muzzle,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “At least when I put it on him.”
Kayla jumps back a bit, looking around for Lionel who is trotting back and forth across the drawing room, sniffing Emily. “He needs a muzzle?” she asks.
I shake my head, feeling a burst of anger flare up. “No. He doesn’t need one. He’s never bitten anyone, nor would he without a muzzle. But the U.K. sees pit bulls as an inferior breed. A bad one. A banned one. It’s tricky to own one—you have to prove first that yours isn’t dangerous, and even then, they all have to wear a muzzle. Even if they are old and have never hurt a soul. Sometimes I walk Lionel around here without one, but the neighbors know me. In other places though, you can’t be too sure who will see you.”
“That’s fucking stupid,” Kayla says, reaching for the hand that I’ve balled into a fist. She uncurls it and lets her fingers slip inside. My heartbeat slows.
“It is fucking stupid,” Amara says, nodding and angrily shoving a piece of hair behind her ear. “The law was introduced in the seventies when dog fighting was a problem. It needs to be bloody updated, but the government is a bunch of ignorant cunts. We’re working on it though, trying to educate that it’s the people who do that kind of shite that should be banned, not the breed.”
I exhale harshly through my nose. “Let’s not discuss this too much today. I need to stay in good spirits,” I tell them honestly.
Kayla gives my hand a squeeze and nods. She looks to Amara. “What are you doing now? Did you want to go out for a late lunch or dinner with us?”
We hadn’t even discussed a late lunch, so the fact that Kayla is already opening up to Amara and inviting her in warms my heart like a tonic.
“Thanks,” Amara says. “I’m good though. Going to head back to work. Maybe tomorrow, Lachlan. You can bring her by and show her what we do.”
“Aye,” I agree. “Before practice. That would be perfect.”
She waves goodbye and hurries off. I know that she doesn’t have to go back to work until later, so I get the impression that she’s trying to give us some alone time. I guess I am in just a towel.
I peer down at Kayla. “So about that lunch,” I say. “What other plans do you have in store for us?”
She gives me a grin and a saucy tilt to her head. “Not telling,” she says. “I like to keep you on your toes.”
She sashays her way into the drawing room and I watch her go.
Though she’s trying to look seductive, shaking that delectable peach-shaped bottom of hers, it only lasts about two seconds before Lionel comes bounding out of nowhere, jumping up on her legs, and enveloping her in a flurry of kisses.
She yelps, and if she was ever fearful, it’s faded into laughter. Lionel is merciless in his love and need for affection, and Kayla shrieks playfully as he chases her around the room, tongue hanging out if his mouth, wanting nothing from her but attention.
I know how you feel, old friend, I think to myself before following suit and joining the chase.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kayla
I’m dreaming. I’m drowning. Everything is wet.
My face is wet.
Smelly.
Dog breath.
I flinch, fully coming awake just in time to see a long pink tongue slide over my face, leaving a trail of drool behind.
“Oy, Lionel,” Lachlan mumbles, throwing his arm out and pulling the dog away from my face and back in between us. “Have some manners.”
I slowly sit up, running my hand over my cheek and wiping the dog drool off of me. I look down at Lachlan who’s holding Lionel in a hug and grinning sheepishly up at me.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “He likes to wake you up with kisses.”
I raise my brow, totally fucking charmed by the sight of Lachlan and his tattoos and muscles, holding the sweetest, drooling dog against him, nestled in the white sheets. “I’m not complaining, but I would rather you wake me up with kisses instead.”
He grins at me, looking absolutely adorable, a lock of bed-mussed hair flopping over his forehead. “That can be arranged.”
I already arranged it last night. Though somehow I was able to make it through the day and most of the evening, when we turned in at eleven o’clock after taking Emily and Lionel for their last walk around the quaint neighborhood, I was absolutely exhausted. Despite that, I woke up at three a.m., wide-eyed and ready to go. It probably hadn’t been such a good idea to take that nap, but I don’t regret the sex it led to after. And, of course, when it’s the middle of the night and you have a Scottish sex god in bed with you, you wake him up with a blow job.
Thankfully Lionel wasn’t in bed with us at the time. He must have snuck in when we were both sated and passed out.
Emily barks from the other room, and that steals Lionel’s full attention. His ears perk up and his forehead wrinkles in the exact same way that his master’s often does, and he jumps off the bed, burning it into the living room.
“You can never sleep in with dogs,” Lachlan says, his voice still sleepy in that very sexy way of his. “Which was fine until you came into the picture. Now I think lying in bed with you in the mornings is the best part of the day.”
“Can’t argue with that,” I say softly. I take the opportunity to lie back down, pulling the soft covers over me and settling into my favorite spot, the nook between his arm and his side. I place my fingers on his broad chest, trailing them over his tattoos. I feel like I’ll forever be marveling at what a perfect specimen of a man he is. Every second that ticks past, I’m looking at him differently. Deeper. And now that I’m here, with him in his home, I don’t think there’s any hope for me.
Yesterday, when I woke up from my jet-lagged nap and found him crawling on top of me with that look in his eyes that wasn’t just about lust but something more profound, more real, what followed went beyond any fuck I’ve had before. It was raw and I was ravaged. I could feel his urgency with every touch of his hands, feel his heart beating like a wild beast. There was breathtaking honesty in the way he stared at me, as if I were gold dust, precious and able to blow away at a moment’s notice.
We made love. There was no other word for it, and while it used to make me cringe and laugh when other people used that term so casually, so cheesily, I finally got it. I understood it. It was lust and passion and burning desire for each other’s bodies, for the pleasure, but it was also feverish want for the person inside.