Bad Dog - Too Bad It's Fake
Page 13
“One of them,” I said. “And that’s a good thing. There are few people I trust.”
“Is Prince Charming another?”
“Yeah,” I said, my goofy grin returning in a way I could actually feel it, “I think so.”
“So ye’re planning to see him again?” Sharon asked, posing a question I hadn’t even let myself consider too much, up until this point.
“I sure hope so,” I admitted.
I actually got my wish a few minutes later when, unexpectedly, I got a call from Sam’s number. I was ashamed to admit it, but I had memorized it from the forms he’d filled out at my clinic. But in my defense, it was easy to remember. There were a lot of sevens.
“Hello,” I said, trying to sound way calmer than I felt.
“Hey Ronda, it’s Sam.”
“Oh, hey, Sam,” I said casually, trying to ignore the tightening feeling in my pussy as I recalled all the wonderful things he had done to me.
“I was wondering if you’re free tonight.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I have to work tomorrow,” I hedged, trying not to sound too eager.
“I’ll get you home in plenty of time,” he wheedled, “I promise.”
I forced myself to pause, as if I was mulling it over, prompting him to add, “Scout’s honor.”
Finally, convinced I had let enough time pass so that I didn’t sound desperate, I spoke.
“Okay,” I agreed, every part of me so excited and happy to be seeing him again so soon, even if I hadn’t wanted to admit it out loud.
Chapter Nine
Ronda
Two Weeks Later
“You look really nice,” Sam said, as I stepped out of my house with Warren on a leash beside me.
Truth was, I was a little breathless and trying to hide it. After Sam had called me up spontaneously and asked if I wanted to bring the dogs to the park, I had thrown myself together as well as I could and bolted across the street, asking Sharon to loan me Warren again, and had barely gotten back with him in time. Sharon had gladly obliged, even if she was a bit surprised.
“Thanks,” I said.
The sexual tension between us wasn’t as overpowering as it had been. We still had chemistry to spare, but it wasn’t the same as before. He barely touched me except for holding my hand. I had wondered why at first.
I didn’t think he had lost interest in me, but I was trying to figure out what else it could be.
Then it hit me.
We had slept together, and it had been amazing, but it had also technically been our second date. So now he was trying to get to know me on something other than a purely physical level.
Somehow this made me even more excited. Not only did Sam make me feel amazing, but he wasn’t after only one thing. He actually cared about me.
I suddenly felt really bad that I was lying to him about Warren, if only be omission. Our relationship seemed to be growing and I didn’t want it to be based on a lie, small as it may have been.
I knew I would have to tell him the truth but I didn’t feel right telling him right then and there. Of course, it was always about timing, with me not wanting to ruin things before they really had a chance to start.
We made our way to the dog park, walking Warren and Benny. We had been spending as much time as we could together since that first date, sometimes spending nearly every night together. Somehow, he hadn’t asked where Warren was, but to be fair, my mind wasn’t exactly on dogs, either, when we were at my place…
But despite the heat between us, the cold, dread worm of the lie at the core of our relationship was gnawing at me more than ever. I needed to tell him, but as I turned face him, at the same time facing down my fears, I got a look at his eyes and my courage left me.
I couldn’t bear to disappoint him.
“You okay, babe?” he asked, his brows furrowing in concern.
I tried to shape my expression into something more casual, forcing my lips into a smile.
“I’m good,” I assured him.
He bent down and kissed me, and I pressed my body against his. His hand slipped into the curve of my hip, one of his favorite spots to touch and kiss, and heat flooded through me.
When he pulled back, I peered up at him through my lashes.
“My place?” I whispered, voice trembling.
“Mine,” Sam answered, sending a thrill through me.
Then he added, “I set up a playroom for the dogs, so everything should be okay. I also don’t live too far from here, so it’s no problem to go there.”
I felt a sudden pang of guilt, asking myself when I was ever going to tell him that “my dog” wasn’t really mine. Pushing down the unwelcome feeling, I focused on the good, taking his hand, and we walked to his car, loading the dogs into the back.