Page 46 of It's Mother-Pucking Christmas!

“I like carrying you,” I said, setting her down only when we were at my car and I could kiss her easily, though Dasher used it as an opportunity to lick her face and beg for more sandwich.

“Only if you don’t howl in the car,” Dakota told him. He hung over the back seat, panting on my neck.

“Stay,” I told the dog.

He lay down in the back seat.

“Good boy!” Dakota fed him more of the sandwich.

The dog started to get antsy again when I parked in the shelter parking lot.

“Oh, he doesn’t want to go,” Dakota cried as I opened her door then opened Dasher’s, grabbing him before he could run for freedom.

“Buck up, buddy.” I soothed the shaking dog as I carried him inside the shelter. “I told you, you can’t be showing upat a new home and ruining Christmas. You need to be a good houseguest.”

The husky whined.

“Oh my god.” Dakota was teary eyed. “He’s so sad.”

“He’s doing it for attention, aren’t you, boy?” I playfully grabbed the husky’s big head.

Dakota tearfully fed him the rest of his roast beef sandwich.

“You need to chew that,” she said, her voice catching as he gulped it down.

“I’ll come by next week,” I promised the dog. “And take you for a walk, okay?”

Dasher barked, noisy in the empty shelter. All the other animals were out at the Christmas market, hoping to be adopted.

“Poor Dasher.” Dakota gripped my arm as we headed out of the squat shelter building. “How are you not distraught about leaving him there?”

“Oh.” I laughed. “I’ll see him on Monday. I come by a few times a week and play with the dogs for a few hours—walk them, run them through some basic commands. When Dasher’s in doing time, I take him out on a very long run with me. Get my cardio in and help him burn some energy.”

She looked up at me, eyes shining. “You do?”

“Yeah, I like to come walk the dogs. They need the exercise and the socialization,” I said as we headed back to my car. “The shelter is underfunded and always understaffed. They barely have enough time to manage the cleaning let alone trying to socialize all the dogs. But to have the best chance at a forever family, the dogs need to be family ready.”

“Okay, that makes me feel better.” Dakota exhaled, the grip on my arm relaxing.

I pressed my lips to her hair, decorated with snowflakes, cool against my cheek.

“I guess I’ll take you back to your car,” I said, cranking the engine, Christmas carols filtering softly around us.

I leaned over to kiss her again, her mouth lovely and familiar.

She grabbed the collar of my jacket, putting me off-balance so I was almost on top of her. The noises she made, the way she strained up against me—I should have pulled back, reminded her that this wasn’t a third date, but her skin was soft and warm under the sweater.

“Don’t you dare stop,” Dakota warned when I leaned back. Her eyes locked on mine, she pulled off her sweater. Her bra was red and lacy, with little white snowflakes.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore how tight my zipper was. Her breasts were amazing. I wanted my hands, my mouth, my face all over them. “We didn’t have the third date yet.”

Her legs parted.

I was boiling hot. I shrugged off my jacket as Dakota inched up her skirt.

“You know my cousin?” she purred, “Well, she likes to knit, and she made these tights for me.”

The skirt inched higher.

---