Page 46 of Training His Pet

Erika sank onto the bed. “It’s complicated.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” She looked up at Dax’s expression, saw the tic in his jaw. She was safe, but she wasn’t sure she’d be all that fine by the time he was finished with her.

“I want you to call me every day, Erika. I’m serious. This isn’t like you. I’m worried.”

“Thanks, Christy. But don’t. I could not be more safe. I promise. I’ll explain everything when I get home.” Erika didn’t like worrying Christy. She hated the idea that she could be in jeopardy of having to deal with any fallout from the whole situation at all.

Like Dax, she wanted to protect her friend.

“Okay. Tomorrow. Or I swear I’m going to send out a search party.” She would, too. Erika wouldn’t underestimate Christy’s protective nature.

“I will. Tomorrow. I promise.”

Erika ended the call and cradled the phone in her hands, looking down at it. Dax had been trying to protect Addison from being found out. Whatever her reason for keeping her location a secret from all of Chicago society, it was hers to keep.

“I wasn’t fishing for a story with Addison,” Erika said and slowly raised her gaze to meet Dax’s. “It’s a good story—juicy, yes, but I don’t want it.”

“Your questions didn’t seem that way,” he pointed out.

“I know. I can’t help it; I just start asking and then I just keep going. But I swear, I wasn’t even thinking of exposing her. I don’t know why she’s really here, what happened, but I’m sure telling everyone in Chicago where she is won’t help.”

He narrowed his gaze on her, like he was deciding if he could believe her or not. She hadn’t lied to him, hadn’t given him any reason to doubt her—but there it was in his eyes. Doubt.

“Okay.” He gave a curt nod. Either he’d decided to believe her, or he’d decided it wasn’t worth arguing over, she couldn’t tell. She couldn’t read him well enough yet. That guard he kept up blocked her.

“I’m tired. I think I’m just going to get some sleep.” She dropped her phone on the nightstand and stood up to close the door, but he didn’t move.

“What was it you called me before you stomped off?” His voice dropped, signaling they weren’t done talking.

“You made me angry, Dax,” she said as way of explanation.

“I wasn’t thrilled with you either, but I don’t remember calling you a name. And I sure as hell didn’t stomp off like a child mid tantrum,” he pointed out, still unmoving.

Obviously, he wanted to address this. Well, fine. She could apologize for being mouthy.

“I’m sorry, Dax. I shouldn’t have called you an unreasonable ass.” She put a hand on the door and started to close it, stopping only when it hit his booted foot.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He pushed the door against the wall. “But you did.”

She took a step back, noticing the tension in his shoulders. He wasn’t going to back down.

“It was just a word, Dax. A name.” She tried to explain, to get him to see reason. “It’s not like I hit you.” She put more space between them. “I didn’t disobey you!” she said with fisted hands at her sides.

“Did I really need to tell you disrespect was against the rules?” he asked, not moving toward her. He didn’t need to. The room felt crowded enough just with his presence.

“You didn’t give me rules. You just said not to disobey, and I didn’t!” She pointed a finger at him. How quickly she’d become the hunted. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really.

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “You’re right. I didn’t list out your rules for you.” He took a step inside the room. “Rule one. You don’t ever speak disrespectfully to me. Rule two. You don’t disobey a command. Rule three. You never put yourself in harm’s way or do anything unsafe.” With each rule he took a step toward her, and she retreated. By the fourth rule, she was backed against the wall with a fire burning in her core.

“Rule four.” He stepped up to her, pressing his body against hers and pinned her to the wall. “You don’t sleep in this bed or any bed until I’ve given permission.” He ran the back of his hand along her cheek. “Pets don’t get to sleep on the furniture until they’ve been a good pet.”

Her jaw slacked. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re sleeping in your crate tonight.” He dropped his hand from her cheek and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “Come,” he said, and tugged her into motion. She stumbled at first but caught herself.

He led her from the bedroom to his room, right next door. When she stepped inside, she yanked back on his hand.

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