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The Pet Stylist and the Playboy Page 11
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“Am I hurting you?” I asked.
“No. Let’s just take a second.”
I lay on top of him, our chests pressed together.
“You feel so fucking good,” I murmured. His body clenched tight and hot around my cock and, coupled with the way our balls were smashed together, my eyes were rolling back in my head with pleasure.
“Yeah. You, too.” I lifted my head and we stared at each other a long moment as our bodies adjusted, Isaac’s hands wandering from my hair over my shoulders and down my back, tracing my spine, and then squeezing my ass before making their way back up again.
“Fuck me hard, Dante.” His breath was hot against my ear, and the next second, he licked the lobe, sending tingles through my body.
I groaned. Oh, yeah. I’d give him the ride of his life.
I kissed him and then began to rock, hips moving faster and faster as waves of delicious pleasure washed over me. Isaac called out my name, fingers digging into my shoulders and then tangling in my hair. I pushed up his legs and fucked him harder, our flesh slapping together, Isaac’s hard cock bobbing between us. Never had I stared someone in the face while I fucked them, male or female. It was intimate as well as jarring.
I pulled out, and Isaac let out a whimper. I was shaking all over with my need to come, but I wanted to see that ass.
“Turn over.”
Isaac scrambled to his belly, ass up in the air, and I couldn’t resist a couple more licks to his pucker, slurping at it lewdly before positioning myself again.
Deep inside Isaac once more, I squeezed his round buns while fucking him, gaze moving up the curve of his back. I clenched my teeth at the sight of the healed scars then bent and pressed kisses to them. Isaac drew in a breath of surprise closely followed by a moan when I hit his prostate. A quiver ran from his legs up his back, jangling his voice as he called out my name.
Not wanting things to end too soon, I slowed the rhythm of my thrusts, driving in deep, pausing, then withdrawing only to go in deep again, savoring every stroke of my cock inside his snug warmth. I trailed my tongue to Isaac’s shoulder, pushing his hair out of the way to press my lips to his soft, sweet-smelling neck.
“God, Dante...I’m gonna come,” he sobbed into the sheets.
My own release coiled in my belly. “Do it, baby,” I whispered in his ear.
He shuddered, and I twisted my hips, changing the angle of my thrusts. He moaned and bucked, forcing me deeper and then jerking as his climax hit him. I fucked him through it, chasing my own.
I both felt and sounded like a fucking animal, growling as I drove into him. Something fell from the nightstand, and distantly, through the buzzing that had taken up in my ears, I heard the dogs barking at the tumult. Isaac’s ass clenched around my hard cock, and I roared, my own release falling on me like a tidal wave. Sobbing sounds escaped my throat as I was sucked into an undertow of pleasure only to be spit out again by a blast of nirvana that left me reeling.
I might have blacked out for a few seconds. I came to myself lying on top of Isaac, breathing into his neck. I didn’t want to withdraw from his body, but it was either that or suffocate him with my weight. With a sigh, I rolled off, and he let out a grunt when my cock left his body.
Isaac turned his head and regarded me where I lay panting on my back. Wisps of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty face. He looked wrecked. “That was good, wasn’t it?” he said after a minute.
I let out a huff. “What, you trying to tell me you don’t know if it was?”
Isaac blushed. “I liked it, but what about you?”
I smiled. He was cute when embarrassed. “That was me shouting your name a few minutes ago.”
Isaac groaned. “Be serious.”
That he was worried touched me. Long accustomed to quick fucks and even quicker goodbyes, I wasn’t used to the concern about my own pleasure. I turned onto my side and ran my fingers along the curve of Isaac’s back, down to the tempting opening between his cheeks. “It was terrific,” I said. “Perfect. I mean it.”
A smile curved Isaac’s lips, and he closed his eyes, sighing into the pillow. I rubbed his back for a while until his breathing evened out and deepened. I wasn’t going to be an ass and leave while he was sleeping—not when I’d made it clear this couldn’t happen again. Isaac meant too much to me for me to do that.
I set my watch alarm and got comfortable, letting myself drift off. We’d have our talk early in the morning before I had to drive all the way back to East Hampton and face what my life had become.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Swish
I jerked out of sleep, positive I’d dreamed all of it: Dante coming over, kissing me, fucking me, cock so thick it had felt like he was splitting me in two; but the even breathing and warm body beside me reassured me that it had all been real.
I rolled over. Dante was only a vague shape in the darkness.
Dante’s in my bed. I still couldn’t believe it. I’d kissed him, touched his perfect body, and he’d touched me. He’d been inside me. God, his mouth had been on me. And he hadn’t run away afterward.
I knew none of it mattered. Dante had made it clear our night together would be a one-time thing, and I had made it clear I was okay with that. I didn’t regret it.
I curled closer to him, seeking his warmth and smell, wanting to impress it on my brain.
“Isaac?” Dante whispered, and a shiver ran through me at hearing my name from his lips again.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
Dante chuckled. His hand found mine in the darkness, and I bit back whatever sound tried to escape my mouth when he threaded our fingers together.
“I’m glad I don’t have to wake you up,” he said. “I set my alarm for five. I have to work today.”
I squeezed his hand. “Okay.”
I don’t know how, but he must have heard something in my voice, because he sighed and said, “I owe you a better explanation than I’ve given you, but it’s a little embarrassing.”
I waited.
“When I went off to college, I promised my parents I’d get my life together by the time I turned thirty. I’d have my fun, but eventually I’d go back and take my place in our family business.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I squeezed his hand again. I felt him shift in the bed, drawing closer to me.
“I came here last night because I needed to see you. Make sure you’re all right and that you didn’t think I don’t care.”
“Of course I’m all right. I told you, don’t worry about me; worry about yourself.”
Although some might call him selfish, I honestly didn’t think Dante ever worried about himself.
“Do you enjoy working for your dad?” I asked.
Dante let go of my hand, and I immediately wanted it back. I wasn’t going to do very well letting him go if I already wanted to cling to him.
“It’s okay. My grandfather started the business, and it’ll be my responsibility to take it over completely when my father’s gone. I’m their only child.”
“So, you’ve known about this for a while.”
“Yeah.”
“How come you didn’t say?”
Dante was quiet a moment. “I don’t know. I feel kind of ashamed, like I’m not being true to myself, you know? But I’ve disappointed my parents from the day I was born. It’s time I stepped up to the plate.”
“No,” I said fervently, because I couldn’t imagine any parent being disappointed in having Dante as a son.
Dante touched my arm. “It’s okay.” He leaned in and kissed me softly.
A peal of ringing bells coming from his phone on the nightstand made me jump and bump my nose painfully against Dante’s forehead. Dante reached for the phone and silenced it.
“Sorry. I’m hard to wake up in the morning,” he said.
“You think you need to tell me that? We shared a room, remember? Only an explosion could get you out of bed.”
Dante’s laugh rang out in th
e darkness, sending a burst of happiness through me. “Remember the time you threw your shoe at me?”
“And you still didn’t wake up enough to get out of bed,” I said through a grin. I rolled and turned on the lamp. Blinking in the sudden brightness, I looked at the expanse of Dante’s bare chest with the sprinkling of light hair that I’d felt against me just hours before.
Dante smiled a little wistfully at me before turning and rummaging around on the floor for his clothes.
I wasn’t going to let this be weird.
“Do you have time for some coffee?” I asked.
Dante looked up, jeans mid-way up his legs and dark blond hair falling into his face. He yanked the jeans the rest of the way up.
“That sounds great, Isaac.” He grinned.
The way he purposely said my name, all throaty and low combined with the accompanying sexy smile, gave me goosebumps. I started to get up, but he held me back, hand on my shoulder.
“There’s something I want you to do for me.”
“Anything,” I said simply.
His eyes softened. “I want you to let me pay for you to go to culinary school.”
I stared. “What?”
“I mean it.”
My mind was having trouble processing. Culinary school? “I...what?”
“You once said you wanted to go, and I want to make it happen. I have all this money, and I want to help you. Let me do this. It would mean a lot to me.”
I frowned. I did remember saying I’d thought about culinary school, but that was ages ago. “Dante, I don’t even know if I want to do that,” I said. “I mean, sure. I thought about it, but now I’m working with animals and really enjoying it.” Not to mention the fact I wasn’t keen on having him, or anyone else, pay my way through school.
“Then let me give you the money for your pet grooming business then.”
“I don’t need it. I’ve started my business.”
“Don’t you need to be trained? Get new equipment?” Dante looked desperate to help me in some way, and I appreciated that. I didn’t know what to say. I really would do anything for Dante, but I wasn’t comfortable taking his money. I was done letting a man pay my way. Besides, Dante had done enough for me.
“I’m sorry, but no. I’m really fine.”
Dante’s face fell. “Why won’t you let me do this for you?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry. Ask me to do anything else, but not that.”
Dante looked as though he wanted to argue, blue eyes troubled and face tense, but he didn’t say anything else.
“Okay.” He stood and picked up his shirt.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked.
“No, of course not. I don’t understand, but I can’t make you take the money.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head.
I edged off the mattress and stood, a little embarrassed at my nudity but not letting that stop me. “You don’t regret this, do you? What we did? Because I don’t.”
Dante stroked the side of my face with the back of his fingers, a gesture so intimate, it made my heart hurt. “No. I don’t regret it.”
I nodded. “Good.”
“I’ll go put on the coffee while you get dressed.” Dante left the room, and I pulled on my clothes. I didn’t know where the red panties I’d worn the night before had landed, so I chose another pair before heading for the bathroom.
When I walked into the kitchen five minutes later, the dogs were gathered around Dante.
“I forgot to crate them last night.” I said, opening the back door and letting Banjo and the others out to go to the bathroom. The backyard wasn’t fenced in, but my house sat far enough away from the road, I didn’t worry about the dogs taking off. I watched as they happily sniffed around and did their business before trotting back inside.
Dante handed me a cup of the freshly-brewed coffee, and we stood out back sipping it while the dogs finished their business.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” I said when we’d gotten them back in the house. I slipped into my shoes, thinking how surreal the situation was. My body was still sore from Dante fucking me, and here I was casually telling him goodbye, maybe for good.
The sky had gone from black to gray, and birds were beginning to twitter above us in the trees as we walked side-by-side in the dew-wet grass.
Remembering Dante’s up-coming birthday, I asked, “Will the guys be having a birthday dinner for you?”
Dante smiled. “And just exactly who’d be cooking it without you there?”
“I could still do it. I want to, as my present to you.”
Dante put his arm around my shoulders. “That’s nice of you. Believe me, if I could do anything for my birthday, it would be that; but, unfortunately, my parents have a party in my honor planned.”
We’d reached Gus’s house. A light shone in the kitchen, meaning Gus was up. A red Maserati was parked to the side of the driveway, and I realized it must be Dante’s. It suddenly hit me how much money he must have. And we’d never seen a sign of it at the clubhouse.
He leaned in and brushed his mouth against mine. Unwilling to leave it at that, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in. A sense of finality hung in the air as our tongues tangled, warm, wet, and tasting of coffee. Dante’s arms tightened around me briefly before letting me go.
Tears pricked my eyes when, mere moments later, I watched his tail lights disappearing around the bend.
“Everything all right, Isaac?”
I hadn’t heard Gus step out onto the porch.
I pressed my fingers to my eyes a moment before putting a smile on my face and turning around.
“Yeah, fine. How are you feeling?”
“Much better.” Gus had been tired the last couple of days, and I’d been up to the main house frequently to check on him.
“Was that Dante in that fancy car?”
I nodded. Gus didn’t press, just offered coffee and pastries.
I followed him inside the house. As I took a seat at the kitchen table, I winced when my ass hit the hard wood of the chair.
“Hurt yourself?” Gus asked, and I blushed.
“Hit my tailbone,” I said. Dante probably had hit it, multiple times.
“Ouch. Bess broke hers giving birth to Jimmy. Said it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.”
Butch and Angel approached me, tails wagging, and I scratched behind their ears while Gus brought a basket of pastries to the table.
“Lady at church made these,” he said.
“Ah, possible girlfriend?” I teased.
Gus chuckled. “Those ladies were on me like bees on molasses before the flowers at Bess’s funeral had shriveled. I made it clear she had been it for me, but all these years later, they haven’t given up. At least I get good food out of their nonsense.”
By this time, I knew Gus had met his wife Bess in high school. They’d been together a long time when she’d died. As I sipped my coffee, I wondered what it would be like to have the kind of love that lasted a lifetime, even after death.
Gus seemed to detect my mood and chatted easily about the animals and a few possible adoptions. By the time the sun had fully risen, I’d consumed two pastries and another cup of coffee. I rose and started cleaning up the dishes. Gus knew enough not to try to stop me.
“I’d better get down to the kennel to walk the dogs,” I said. “I’ll be back to fix lunch. I have a meatloaf recipe I want to try out.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Gus put a hand on my arm as I moved toward the door. “Son, I’m here if you need an ear.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Gus. You’d be the first I’d come to. I’m okay, though.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dante
I don’t know if my father was irritated because I wasn’t interested in Maggie or the other three girls my mother had introduced me to recently, or if it was about something I’d fucked up on the job, but every time he looked at me, he had a scowl on his face. I was suffocating in the stupid Tom Ford suit I had to wear o
n the job, and I wished I could get away.
I wasn’t very good at selling cars. Despite the charm many people credited me with, I just couldn’t bring myself to talk someone into buying a luxury car that cost more than many working people’s yearly pay. The fact that these were wealthy customers who could well afford to spend the money didn’t make a difference. I’d rather see their wealth do some good rather than go to a pricey piece of machinery that mainly served to stroke their egos.
When my father heard me talking to the president of a local bank about an LGBTQ center in Queens that needed funding, he blew his stack—behind closed doors, of course. Appearances were everything to my family. He might want me to know in no uncertain terms that I was there to sell cars and not to push funding for “gay hangouts,” but he certainly didn’t want his customers to overhear it.
Soon after that lecture on business and family loyalty, my father announced he was moving me off the floor. I wasn’t deluded enough to think he’d chuck me out completely—no, dear old dad made me what I was sure was the most overly-paid car biller in history.
The whole thing was embarrassing, but there was nothing I could do about it. My father wasn’t about to pay me a beginning employee’s salary, because he wanted me living as a Durham was expected to. He’d made sure I was looking for a luxury apartment or house by hooking me up with a real estate agent and telling me in no uncertain terms, if I didn’t find an acceptable place to live myself, he’d find one for me.
My mother wasn’t too upset about Maggie or the others because she had an entire list of possible matches for me. I was as good as hog-tied.
As I sat in my leather desk chair making out invoices, my mind drifted to the night I’d spent with Isaac. I’d gone to his house to check on him, but somehow, seeing him standing at the front door, barefoot and rumpled, desire for him had hit me like a semi-truck, sending all reason spiraling into oblivion. Zeke and Morgan hadn’t completely cleared the driveway before I’d had Isaac in my arms.
And the punch that kiss had thrown at me.