My take-no-shit English bulldog walked right up to her as she knelt down on the marble tile in the foyer and gave her cheek a good lick.
As I watched her pet him like they’d known each other a lifetime, all I could think about was her being down on her knees with me sliding my cock between her lips, her innocent green eyes looking up at me.
I watched as she stole glances between the dog and me, wondering how the hell I was going to leave her here and go on my trip.
I wanted to put her in my pocket and carry her with me everywhere. I couldn’t stop staring at her, a study in contradictions. She was wearing these worn cowboy boots with her shorts and pink cupcake earrings.
I thought of all the filthy things I wanted to whisper to her and see her cheeks blush and feel her pussy get wet under my fingers. And at the same time, I wanted to be the shield between her and anything that could cause her harm.
She kissed Buddha on the head, and I nearly came out of my skin, wanting those lips to be on mine. On me. Anywhere. Everywhere.
When she looked back up at me and smiled, the room began to spin, and I had to excuse myself before I took out my cock and marked her with my cum right then and there.
After a quick walk to my office and back, I took a deep breath and came back to see her still down on the floor with the dog who looked at me like he’s won the lottery.
She pursed her lips, grabbed Buddha by the chin, then said quizzically, “I thought the agency said he could be aggressive. That he was a bit of a hard case.”
It seems the only thing that’s going to be hard is me.
It took me almost a year to find Hank, and I’ll have to pay him a nice bonus after this. Because from now on, no way will I ever need anyone else to fill my pet-sitting position.
After I called the agency this morning to tell them Emmy was approved, she ran through the instructions for Buddha with me, not missing a single detail. In the past, Hank came three times a day, spending about an hour and a half with Buddha, and Emmy had the same schedule.
With everything set up, what else could I do? As much as I wanted to stay, there was the meeting with Newral AI to get to. So, I gave her the keys to the house and the security codes, knowing somewhere in my crazed brain I wanted to have her here for more than just the two days I was supposed to be gone.
I wanted her here for good. Forever.
Fuck, I don’t know what’s happening to me.
I didn’t want to leave, but knowing she was going to be in my house brought me some minor sense of relief. From the time I got to the airport and boarded the plane, I’ve been searching for any information I can find about my Emmy Winthrop—because I’m obsessed.
She’s on Facebook but has almost nothing posted except her relationship status, which is single, thank fuck. I’ve not found any public records on her except her address, a farmhouse about fifteen miles outside of town. With some searching, it turns out her parents are deceased. She has no credit history and no other social media profiles. I can’t get much more than that for now, but I will.
As soon as I’m done with this business, I’m coming for her and everything about her.
“Marshall, you need to focus. I’m not kidding.” Connor interrupts my dirty thoughts, and I grit my teeth as I start to go through the details and projections I’ve put together on Newral AI one more time, trying not to think of her in my house, sitting on my couch, kissing my fucking dog…
Three hours later, by some miracle, our meeting is a success. The best deals are the ones where everyone comes out smiling, and this is one of those. Newral are going to get the venture capital they need to build on their already impressive foundation, and my fund is going to share in the glory when they do.
And the profits.
As we all shake hands, Connor turns to me clapping his hands in front of him. “Ready to go celebrate?” He looks at the three tech nerds who just signed a contract that will set them up for a billion-dollar IPO in a few years if things go as we all hope, and they look ready to celebrate all night.
But it’s nearly seven o’clock, and all I can think about is getting home.
“I have to leave,” I bark.
Connor takes me by the elbow stepping away then grips my shoulder facing off with me.