Page 96 of I'm Not Your Pet

He inhaled sharply.

His gaze burned hot with desire as it trailed over my body.

I didn’t even have the energy to be self-conscious.

How could I be?When Roark was standing in front of me, all nine feet of delicious, squishy pink stuffed into an honest-to-godtuxedo.

It clung to his muscles, highlighting how broad he was all over, making him somehow look both bigger and stronger than he did when he was shirtless. The sweet little bowtie at his thick throat was slightly loose, like he’d been tugging at it, but instead of detracting from his look, the messiness only seemed to add to his overall debonair appearance.

He looks so sexy.

“Roark,” I croaked the same time Roark groaned like he’d been shot.

“Huu-goh,” Roark’s voice was throaty, and full of emotion as he slid down to his knees in front of me, unable to hold himself up. Even kneeling, he was massive, his large body towering over my own as he clenched his hands into tighter fists—the bag he was holding in one of them crinkling.

My heart raced as he leaned forward, our foreheads brushing together. Just that little contact was enough to have electricity zinging through my body. I whined and Roark responded witha soothing rumble that had me settling. His breath was minty sweet as it mingled with my own, making it obvious he’d just brushed his teeth.

Was he as nervous as I’d been for this?

It certainly seemed so. It was hard to imagine Roark nervous, he was so put together all the time. That little bit of vulnerability only made my silly crush on him grow. Crush was probably a bad word to describe my feelings for the big beast, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to call them love just yet.

At least…until he said it first.

I wasn’t sure my heart could take the rejection.

With a gentility a creature as large as he was should never have possessed, Roark reached into the gift bag he was carrying and pulled out a translator just my size. It was almost a carbon copy of the one I’d been able to use sparingly on the pleasure planet. GPS locked, the devices were useful on location only—to stop thieves from selling them on the black market. Realistically, I’d known we’d have them tonight, but that didn’t make me any less excited.

My breath hitched, happiness buzzing beneath my skin as Roark delicately tucked it over my ear, his blue eyes warm with affection. He was deliberate with his movements as he turned the tiny device on, waiting for the machine to boot up. I waited anxiously to hear him for the first time since the night he’d called me pretty and decided to take me home.

I don’t know why he’d done what he’d done—why he’d looked at a broken man and seen something worth saving, but I was grateful.

“Huu-goh.” Roark sounded winded.

“I—”

“I don’t have…” He shook his head, overcome with emotion. “I don’t have the words.” His tone was reverent as one large claw caught the strap that had slipped down my shoulder andtenderly slid it back into place. “You make my knees weak.” The translator on his head blinked, signalling it was on. “You always have.”

He was so awkwardly earnest that I had to believe him.

Roark’s voice was familiar, though odd. I’d gotten so used to his garbled English and the rough grunts and growls of his native language that listening to him through the translator felt off. It was too put-together, and far too easy.It’s only for one night,I reminded myself.Enjoy it.

You make my knees weak.

I’d never made anyone’sanythingweak before. I hadn’t known I could.

The low rumble of Roark’s voice echoed around inside my head as I stared at him. Stared at the tuxedo he had stretched across his massive supple pecs. Stared at the way it hugged his body in all the right places, the black fabric highlighting the striking vivid pink of his skin. Stared at this beautiful, wonderful, monster of a man—floored by his sweetness.

I’d never seen Roark wear anything but his pants and that fancy sash he’d sported when he’d first bought me. Seeing him in a tuxedo was making my heart—and my dick—perform acrobatics.

“T-Thank you,” I managed, staring at him with new eyes as excitement buzzed under my skin. “You look—you look so—” I floundered. I wanted to get this right. Ineededto. “You look sohandsome!” I blurted, cheeks tingling bright red. It wasn’t a sentence I’d ever uttered before, and it was hard to get out, though honest.

Roark made a happy grunt-y little noise, ducking his head, his spots turning fuchsia with embarrassment. “Thank you.”

“No, really!” I waved my hands, clutching at his wrist as I tried to gather my wits about me. “You look…I mean.Wow. Helloooo, Shark Daddy. Seriously. Like. You should be on amagazine or something—or in movies—Hollywood has nothing on you.” None of that had been very coherent. “I never—” I blinked, tried to speak again—and failed. “I’ve never flirted before—sorry if this is…you know, as painful for you as it is for me.”

“I am not in pain,” Roark reassured, voice soft. He looked as nervous as I felt. “Well, maybe a bit.”

“Yeah?” I chuckled.

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