More water pours over her, drenching both woman and dog. He yelps, cowers into her further.
"What are you doing?" She tries to protect him with her body. "You’re an insensitive dog parent."
"I’m not a parent, this is not a child, and you…are completely insane."
She peers up at me, from under her spiky eyelashes. Her gaze runs up my thighs, my crotch, getting an eyeful of my rather spectacular appendage—yeah, I’m well hung, deal with it—up my impressive eight pack—it is eight, I know, I’ve seen myself in the mirror—to my mouth. She gulps; her cheeks turn a fiery red. "You… you…" She swallows, "Why are you flashing the little mite?" She props her palm over Max’s eyes. "You could have stunted his growth, with that exhibition," she huffs. "I mean just because you are … Uh, massive... You don’t need to go around shocking little doggies with your penchant for running around naked."
And that’s when something inside of me snaps. My vision tunnels and the blood thunders at my temples—anger…and frustration…and jealousy… Yeah, bloody hell, I am living with rage that she’s giving all of her attention to that…that… Usurper… I am going to teach her a lesson about ignoring me—one she won’t forget in a hurry. I bend over, grab the nape of her neck with my unhurt hand, and haul her up to her feet, with just enough force for her gaze to widen.
"What did you say?’
"Th…that you’re scaring him."
"After that."
"That you’re running around naked."
"Before that."
She blinks rapidly, the dog wriggles in her hold. "M…max," she stutters.
I click my tongue, "Not the word that you are looking for."
"M…massive?" she wheezes.
"You noticed, huh?"
"Kinda….h…hard not to…" she swallows, tips up her chin, "considering…"
"Considering." I drop my head, thrust my face into hers. "Considering?" I lower my voice. "Complete the sentence, Buttercup."
She gulps, "Considering you’ve been waving that in my face since—"
I lower my head, close my mouth over hers.
3
Amelie
Finally, finally, finally he’s kissing me… He’s… Oh! Warmth, heat, the taste of him pours through my veins, fills my senses. Hot, lush, complex and fiery, notes of ginger, cardamom, bitter orange and sumptuous creamy champagne. Oh, my…he tastes like my very personal favorite dessert… If I had to bottle this taste, make it into a dessert, it would be called... Kinky Banana Split? No, Kinky Pavlova, maybe… Kinky Almond and Chocolate cookies with pomegranate seeds and a splash of brandy… Oh, my, my. I’d totally dive into that concoction headfirst; after I’d scooped up the cream from the dark surface, licked it up, and my fingers... Then rub the mixture all over that delicious torso, down to his impressive bon-bons and— Wait, did I just call his balls bon-bons? Does that make his very impressive dick a…rhubarb and chocolate cock pop?
A giggle boils up my throat. Above me, he freezes, leans back until his mouth is poised just above mine. "What’s so funny?" he rasps.
"N…nothing." I’d lick his shaft like a penis cake—I choke.
"Are you laughing at me?"
"N…no," I gasp.
"What are you thinking?" He frowns down at me. An expression of genuine frustration on his face. My stomach flutters. Jesus, if that isn’t the hottest thing I have seen… This alpha male, all flummoxed… Not to mention, still wet and naked, and holding my nape like I am a kitten.
Max whines in my arms. I glance down. "I think he’s cold; I need to get him inside the house."
"He can wait."
"You’d allow a baby to freeze?" I scowl.
"He’s a dog…"
"A pet."
"A mutt."
"A child." I frown.
"Fine."
"Fine what?"
"We’ll take him to the other room, but first, 'fess up."
"What?" I blink rapidly.
"What made you chuckle earlier?"
"Nothing."
"It’s something." He glares at me and a shiver runs down my spine.
"Maybe," I finally say.
"So, you were lying to me?"
"No," I stutter.
"I hate liars."
"Trust me, you don’t want to hear this," I mumble.
"Trust me," he lowers his thick brows, "I do."
"You won’t like it."
"Let me decide that."
Like hell, I will. I snicker to myself. If you think I am going to tell you my X-rated thoughts, you have another think coming.
"Fine," I grumble just as Max whines again, "Can I set him down first?"
He peers into my face, then nods.
"Let go of me," I demand.
"No."
I stare, "You serious?"
"Always."
Tell me about it. This grumpy-pants a-hole needs to be shown how to laugh a little more, in life.
"Fine," I mutter, then bend down. He bends with me, not taking his palm off of the nape of my neck. Don’t look at his crotch, don’t. I stare at his turgid cock that springs from a nest of dark hair as I lower myself, place the puppy on the ground. Max shoots off toward the kitchen.
He hauls me up. "Tell me now," he threatens, his voice hard.
"But… I need to go with him and—"
He glowers at me, and that familiar melting sensation crawls in my gut.
"P…penis-shaped cake," I blurt out.
"What?" His glare intensifies.
"It…it’s a thing…" I assure him. "There’s this town in Portugal where penis-shaped cakes are gifted to women as fertility charms." Not that I need any such help with this man. Just being this close to him is enough for me to get pregnant… Eeeugh! What am I thinking? I pull back, but his large hand on my nape tightens.
"And you know this, how?"
"It...it’s ah, based on research I came across."
"Research, huh?" He bends his knees, so his face is more at eye-level with mine. "Why do I have this sneaking suspicion that is not true?"
"It is…" I lie, casting about in my head for something…anything to tell him. "Uh, I am writing a book."
"A book?"
"A cook…cookbook...for desserts that are aphrodisiacs…"
"And this… Uh, cock cake—" He frowns.
"A chocolate cock pop," I correct him.
"Chocolate cock pop…is an aphrodisiac, hmm?" His lips twitch.
"Don’t mock it till you try it," I mumble.
“Hmm.” He tilts his head, ”You have a point there.” He applies pressure on my neck—not enough to hurt, just sufficient for my knees to tremble.
"Wh…what are you doing?"