Page 61 of The Story of Danny Rose

All mine.

Out in the backyard, the dogs were waking up. Zeb was always the first one to bark, setting off Leia and Taft. The youngest pups weren’t as loud, nor was old Rocky.

They’d settle down after we’d taken them on their morning walk.

“You’re almost there, baby boy.” I ground my cock deeper, watching the pain and pleasure flit across his face, and that did it.

He choked on a moan and went rigid, eyes screwed shut, and he started coming.

It was the sexiest fucking sight. Burst after burst splattered across his abs, setting me off too.

The orgasm washed over me, each wave intensified by my boy clenching and unclenching around my cock. His breathless pleas echoed in my mind, and I soaked up the attention when he clung to me.

Goddamn.

Perfect start to our day.

I shuddered violently as the last of my release filled his ass, and he pulled me down on him and locked his arms around my neck.

“What a mess you made, love.” I kissed his neck.

He hummed and shivered. “You like it when I make a big mess, Daddy.”

I sure fucking did.

I planted an openmouthed kiss along his neck before I nuzzled our noses together. “Quick shower?”

He nodded and nipped at my jaw.

It actually needed to be a quick shower, because we had a meeting with TJ and Terrance at ten, and we couldn’t just stroll a few blocks to get into the office anymore. It was a half-hour commute—ifwe avoided rush hour. Sometimes we got off right when everyone else did, and then we’d be stuck in traffic for an hour or more.

After getting ready for the day, we headed downstairs. Danny took the dogs out for a walk and some mental stimulation, and I packed our bags and prepared breakfast. We had a sparring session and target practice today, and I’d brought our workout clothes home for laundry.

One of my favorite features about the house was that the kitchen faced the backyard, which we’d poured an entire summer into turning into a great spot for the rescues. The shed was there for the colder months, but most dogs slept outside in the summer. Right now, we didn’t have any dogs that needed to be kept separated either, so that made everything easier. They had a big yard where they could roam free, shade when they wanted, plenty of sun too, toys, a pond to play in—except for Zeb; he hated the water—and a small agility course where Danny trained them.

It might not be the most beautiful place with a six-foot wooden fence closing us in, but it allowed us to be gone for awhole day without locking them up. We had a dog sitter who stopped by to check in on them, energize them a bit, and make sure everything was okay, and that was all. We’d really managed to combine Danny’s dream with our jobs.

And I could admit I loved sitting on the porch with a dog or two at my feet. I also always had a companion when I went out for a run.

The front yard was the human space, though we only spent time there when we had someone over for a barbecue. We preferred the porch in the back.

I grinned to myself as I watched Danny through the window. He was on a mission to provide more structure for our latest, Taft. A rowdy Rottweiler mix who’d been abandoned because his previous owners thought you could tire a dog out with a leisurely stroll in the park. But Danny knew better. He was all in. His passion for animals shone through every moment he spent out there. It was the one reason wesometimesgot to work a bit late.

He might be my sweet brat with a subby streak, but he was the dogs’ pack leader.

I grabbed two apples and sliced them up, then added them to the oatmeal with cinnamon, some honey, and a handful of walnuts.

My breakfast still hadn’t earned the stamp of approval from the twins, but Danny liked it, and that was all that mattered. As long as I didn’t serve plain oatmeal. That was the rule. My boy had given me a stern talkin’-to last year. The plain oatmeal had to go.

I was fine with that.

Danny made a final round to throw out liver snaps, and then he came back inside with a smile on his face.

“You’re making progress with him,” I said.

“Yeah. He just needs his brain activated. People seem to forget dogs have those.”

I chuckled and brought our bowls over to the bar, where we always ate breakfast before work. We couldn’t do it on the porch, because then we’d definitely be late.

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