“Stop,” he whined, well what was meant to sound like a whine. In his deep voice, it sounded more like a lion roaring.
I couldn’t. I’d tried, and I’d failed!
“We need to stop and get supplies,” I gasped, shoulders still shaking.
I should probably also get Bing some treats and a toy because I was pretty sure he was going to be pissed at me for bringing home another dog, as well as smelling of another one. Maybe he’d forgive me seeing as how I smelled like chicken too? He loved chicken.
With a groan, Madix indicated and took the turning that led to the huge supermarket.
“How are we going to do this?” I asked when we parked up, nodding at the puppies. “It’s not like we can take them in with us.”
Rubbing the back of his neck while he thought about it, he stopped, picked up Baileys and put him in the pocket of his shirt.
“Just put Harambe in the kid's seat in the cart. He’ll be okay.”Twenty minutes later…
And that’s how we ended up being banned from the store for two months. Technically, it was when Harambe decided that he needed a poop and had squatted next to the display with about twenty different types and scents of disinfectant. The store security was totally over reacting when he said that the dog had ‘defecated all over the store’. He’d blatantly kept it to that one spot which was easy to clean up and added his own scent to the ones already available. And we’d paid for the disinfectant we’d used too.
I was looking forward to the apology letter from the bad-tempered old devil when he re-watched the security tapes and saw that a set of twins, who had been screaming the whole time their mother had been shopping and talking on her phone, had been the ones throwing poop at the shelves, not our canine baby. What made it worse was they were throwing each other’s poop, not their own.
Kids were dirty little hamsters!
“At least they let us buy what we needed,” I pointed out as we loaded up the back seat of the truck with the puppy food and assorted crap we’d bought.
Giving me a quick glare, he shut the door and opened mine to let me in. Harambe was quick to jump in after me and settled back on my lap so he could watch out the windows when Madix drove us back to the garage.
“Ah, Jesus Christ. Why? Why?” Madix suddenly groaned, pulling Baileys out of his shirt pocket and holding it open so he could look inside it.
From the outside, I could see a dark patch where he’d peed and couldn’t stop myself smiling at the predicament.
“It’s just pee. It’ll come out when you wash it,” I offered, watching as Baileys circled around Madix’s lap twice before deciding on a spot, curling up and settling down.
“It wasn’t just that. Fuck me, it looks like raisins!” he moaned, and then he did something that would be in my spank bank every night from now on.
He got out of the car, placing the puppy on his chair, unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders even though we were still in the middle of the parking lot. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a group of old women pushing their carts into cars as they stared at what he was doing, but I’d be damned if I gave up the full visual I had at that moment to watch their reactions as the alarms went off and frantic owners came running out of the store.
So much beautiful olive skin, with just the right amount of muscles came into view only a foot away from my face. His arms were veiny, but not that scary type of veiny where you wondered if they’d explode if the person got stressed. He also had something I had never seen in real life, at least not to this extent – he had the special v on his pelvis, like an arrow pointing to his cock. And I couldn’t make out what it was seeing as how my eyes wouldn’t stop darting around trying to cover as much ground on his body as they could, but he had a tattoo that went from his pec to his back.
I suddenly wanted the day to be over and done with so I could go home, get my vibrator and play the image of him topless on repeat in my head. Maybe he’d be the professor, and I’d be the naughty school girl? Maybe he’d be a shifter, and I’d be his mate? Maybe he’d be a highlander, and I’d be his naughty wench? The spank bank world was my oyster.
Then he went and added to it by asking me to help him while he bagged his shirt and gave me a wet wipe to clean his chest for him. He didn’t need to ask me twice. In fact, he shouldn’t even have asked me once. Merely handing me the wipe would have been enough. The feeling of his hard, warm chest under my fingertips without a shirt in the way – but I did curse a wet wipe for the first time in my life – was indescribable.