Page 29 of Baby Duke

A booming bark rattles my eardrums, but I could not bring myself to care.

An hour and a half later, because drying Captain Floof took a long freaking time, even with the hairdryer I had found, I am showered myself, with warm pajamas and slippers on, a hot meal is heating up (having already dug out and heated some kind of beef and vegetable stew for Captain Floof) and we are ready to settle in for a movie night.

We snuggle up on the couch, Captain Floof resting his giant face in my lap. I scroll through Netflix with one hand, the other shoveling spaghetti bog down my throat. Every now and then, a chunk of beef or string of pasta drops and lands on Captain Floof's nose, and I lose it as his long tongue smacks every inch of his snoutbesidewhere the food sits. I take pity on him in the end and give him a hand.

I choose some zombie movie with Brad Pitt and settle in to watch, absently petting and scratching the dog's soft fur.And by God, does his fur look and feel fantastic! The bath, blow-dry, and brush down did absolute wonders to the brute. I had left his collar aside for now, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that Captain Floof, who could highly likely actually be Chaos, had a home to go back to. A family, perhaps. But for tonight, he was mine, and I was his. I would call the number tomorrow morning before school. If the owner couldn't pick him up, I'd ask Trent to make a pit stop; sure he would go along with it.

When the movie ends, and my stomach is sickeningly full from the chocolate mousse that inevitably followed the spaghetti, we head to bed, Captain Floof huffing in contentment after he had circled the same spot on the end of my bed five times and collapsed in a heap.

"Goodnight, Captain," I said, reaching for my bedside lamp.

As the light died out and I settled in under the blankets, the distraction of puppy dog cuddles and zombie gore was no longer enough to keep my thoughts at bay.

Western Mazzuchelli. Fuck. I squeeze my legs together as the telltale throb of arousal heats my core. He knew what he was doing. With his fingers. With his words. He was an expert at how to make a woman feel pleasure. And Ihatedit. Ihatedhow my body responded to him. Hell, my bodyhas had a mind of its own since the first time I saw him, balls deep down somebody else's throat. He is an entitled prick who thinks the world revolves around his every whim. He thinks a woman's place is behind him. Or on her knees. Or spreadeagled beneath him… fuck. I roll over in agitation as my traitorous body burns with need.

Captain Floof, seemingly noticing my change in mood, moves until he is beside me. I spoon him, sighing as I breathe in the light cedarwood aroma of the bath oils in his fur. He is like a giant stress ball and it isn't long before I am drifting off to sleep.

"Yes?" a masculine and vaguely familiar voice says through the phone. It's morning, and I've got an hour before school, but I'm ready to go. I wanted to make sure there was time to get Captain Floof home before I had to leave for the day. I don't think Mrs. Deeptol wanted anything to do with dog sitting if her expression this morning was anything to go by.

"Um, yes- Hi," I stammer. No greeting or anything. Strait to business. Must be a Duke associate or something. "Uh, my name is Roe. I have your dog, Cap- I mean, Chaos."

Captain's owner is silent for a long while. It is excruciating, and I am ready to hang up the damn phone and keep the freaking dog. But then he breaks the silence.

"I'll be there in five."

And he hangs up.

Mother fucking asshole!

I spit and seethe for a moment, ignoring Captain Floof's curious expression as I stomp past him on my way to the front door.

It's not until I've buzzed through the car at the gate that I realize I never gave the guy an address. When the car rounds the bend and a lead weight drops in my stomach, I understand why.

I raise my chin high, arms crossed across my chest as the midnight blue Mustang pulls to a stop.

The window slides down.

"Roe," he says.

"West."

Chapter Thirteen

Roe

Captain Floof's entire demeanor changes the instant he hears Wests' voice. Gone is the giant cuddly bear I had spent the night with. In his place is a playful puppy, great booming barks echoing from his chest as he bounds this way and that, always heading towards the car but not in a direct line. His tail is whipping like a helicopter, and his fur is bouncing with his playful lunges.

West opens his door and crouches down for Captain Floof to barge into him. I am frozen, mouth agape, as I witness something I never thought I would. West issmiling. Not the wicked side smirk he often seems to have reserved for me, but an actual, wide, eye-crinkling, face-changing smile. I am in awe at the change such a simple facial expression can have. A small dimple has appeared on his cheek and his teeth are white and straight.

If I thought his cold and calculated look was hot, thenthis… I had no words to describe how utterly and impossibly gorgeous this young man was.

Scratching Captain's ears, West glances up at me. Instantly he is scowling, eyebrows puckered near the bridge of his nose.

"What?" he demands.

I give myself a mental shake and force myself to appear casual and not at all shaken by his sudden change in character, not to mention my body's unforgivable reaction to it.

"You had a bit of something on your face," I say. "I think it was a smile?" I add sweetly, letting myself grin in what I hope is mocking, though it feels gentler.

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