There You Stand (Between Breaths 5)

Unexpectedly he spoke without provocation. “Dogs need to know that you’re the leader of the pack.”

My eyes slid to his and I nodded, waiting for anything more he had to say. “You need to take control. Show him who’s boss.”

The image he’d just conjured made my dick perk up. I’d love for him to show me who’s boss. I bit down a groan and kept my focus on his back.

“Got it,” I said. “I’ve never had any problems with Ace, but this dog . . .”

“Some are just more stubborn than others,” he said, latching his gaze onto mine. “You’ve got to get their attention, show them you mean business. Get in their face and let them know exactly what you want.”

It was like we were talking about two different things right then. I noticed that his breaths were releasing in jagged puffs. Besides the fact that those sentences were like the most he’d ever strung together before, this tension zapping between us that seemed to color our every reaction, became something more altogether.

“And if that doesn’t work?” I murmured, because I was way turned on at this point, even if I was wrong about being on the same page or having similar thoughts. Just hearing him speak in that commanding voice practically had me drooling.

“There’s this trick I could show you sometime,” he said, his eyes moving to my lips and then back up to my eyes. “Where you immediately take ownership.”

My heart in my throat, my voice sounded thick and gravelly. “Sounds good. I’d be up for trying anything.”

He sucked in a sharp, choppy breath. The idea of straddling him, marking him with my teeth, and sinking my cock deep in his ass, forced me to pull my stool back and change course. Holy fuck, I wanted this man. More than I wanted anybody.

“Need a break?” I croaked out, attempting to slow down the rapid pace of my own pulse.

He bit his lip and shook his head.

I turned my attention back to his skin, and got my damn self together. This man was going to be the death of me.

“Can’t believe I inherited Chopper to begin with,” I said, in an attempt to tone down the conversation. Tone it way down. “I had a whole different plan but sometimes things happen not at all like you’d anticipated.”

We fell silent, each lost in our own thoughts, my dick finally settling back to half-mast. I needed to kick the tattoo into third gear and my cock needed to cooperate.

“What was it?” Jude asked, startling me out of my thoughts. Thoughts that included anything other than Jude showing me how to dominate. Fuck, usually I liked to be in charge, but I’d bottom just for him. Where the hell did these thoughts keep coming from? I should just be lucky Jude was talking to me at all.

“What?” I said, swallowing hard.

“Your different plan? What was it?”

I was surprised he was interested. But I wanted him to keep talking so I told him. “I was supposed to adopt a dog from the shelter. Emmy, the redhead who works the front desk? She and I volunteer and there’s this one dog she’s totally hung up on.”

His entire countenance changed as he listened closely.

“Long story short, I was going to adopt Patch. But then Chopper came into my life and two dogs is more than enough with my schedule.”

“And that bloke won’t be returning for his dog?”

“Hell no, he moved to Springfield for a job.” He didn’t say anything so I figured he knew it was a town about two hours away. “He wasn’t very good with responsibility anyway. Have no clue why the hell I was with him to begin with. But sometimes . . . I don’t know. Never mind.”

“How long were you together?”

“Not long. A couple of months,” I said, not wanting to spend any more time talking about that loser asshole. “How about you? You got somebody special?”

And it was like I had broken him out of a trance. Now that the conversation swung back around to him he clammed right up on me. Again.

He shook his head and then turned away.

Fuck.

“Guess that’s that,” I mumbled, frustration setting up camp in my shoulders as they tensed and cramped.

When he didn’t answer, I blurted out, “For the record, I’m trying to develop a friendship with you.”

“Well . . . don’t,” he said to the wall.

“Why not?”

His gaze shifted back toward me and he looked so sad and forlorn right then. “Because I just . . . can’t. It wouldn’t work out in the end, anyway. Never does.”

This time I kept my mouth shut. The rest of the appointment, I attempted to dislodge the tight ball in my chest. Screw this. It was a lost cause.

When we were finished, I kept my head down and began cleaning up my area.

I felt rather than heard him pause at the door. He was waiting for me to look his way and for the life of me I just couldn’t. All of the fight had gone out of me.

Chapter Eleven

My backache wasn’t going away, so I broke down and actually made a doctor’s appointment. It hadn’t bothered me like this in years so I felt bummed that it was acting up now, in the middle of my busy schedule. I wasn’t down for being sick or for anything that kept me from moving for too long, well, except for sleep. Always glorious sleep.

Tonight I sat at the motorcycle bar, nursing my beer, trying to stick to my regular routine but failing miserably. I was losing my stride. Even last night when I had gone up to Zach’s Bar with the gang—our usual Thursday evening hangout, I wasn’t my normal self.