Page 40 of Game On

He had at least a dozen bags. Big ones. Like the ginormous blue IKEA ones. “How much did you get?”

“Well, I don’t know what she likes,” Dorian said, sounding perfectly reasonable and as though Jamie was asking stupid questions. “Besides, they were having a clearance sale at the store.”

“On all that?”

“Sure.” Dorian set the bags down by the back door. “They needed to get rid of the spring merch to make room for the summer stuff.”

Jamie squinted at him. “That’s not how pet stores work.”

“You don’t know that it doesn’t.”

“I do, as a matter of fact. I’ve frequented many over the years.”

“Well.” Dorian unzipped his coat and flung it over a chair, leaving him in white jeans and a very normal-for-Dorian cream sweater with black polka dots. “You don’t know that it doesn’t at this store.”

Jamie wanted to kiss him. Desperately. Screw all the reasons he shouldn’t, none of which he could remember at this moment. He wanted to drag Dorian closer and suck his face off for hours.

Dorian was a closet softie.

He’d bought Poppy things. Lots of things. Some of it had spilled out of the bags and onto the kitchen floor. Treats, dog food, vitamins, two different dog beds, toys, grooming supplies, a floral bandana and matching hair tie, and...

Were those booties?

They’d landed at Jamie’s feet. He stooped to pick them up and waved them at Dorian.

“What?” Dorian snapped. He snatched them back. “It’s cold out.”

Fighting a grin, Jamie picked up the dog and nuzzled her face. “Don’t tell Dorian I said this,” he whispered to her, “but I think he has a soft spot for cute black doggos.”

Dorian scowled at him. “You don’t know anything. Now move. You’re in front of the glasses and I want some water.”

Jamie rolled his lips inward to hide his smile. Christ, Dorian was cute when he was fighting his feelings. Jamie would rather be nuzzling him instead of the dog.

“Jamie.”

“Hm?”

“You’re in front of the glasses,” Dorian repeated.

“So I am.” A curl of mischief loosened inside Jamie. He set the dog down. “What will you give me to move?”

Dorian’s expression changed, and if Jamie had to put a name to it, he’d call it challenge accepted.

Jamie gulped. He had a feeling he was going to regret this.

Lips quirking at the corners, Dorian stepped forward.

Right into Jamie’s space.

Jamie sucked in a breath.

Dorian’s chest slid gently against his. One of his legs went between Jamie’s, nestling their pelvises together. Then he leaned his weight against Jamie and reached over him and into the cabinet behind him.

Jesus, he smelled good. Like fresh air. Felt good too, all lanky and sturdy against Jamie, sending his head spinning out into the stratosphere.

Was it suddenly hot in here? His skin flushed to the point of pain and he gripped the edge of the counter so tightly that his fingertips went numb.

His gaze landed on Dorian’s lips, only a few inches away. They were red and thin, and his evening scruff would surely feel sinful as fuck against Jamie’s skin.

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