Page 16 of There Is Also a Dog
Merry Christmas to me, and to me, a good night.
CHAPTERFOUR
mitchell
I thoughtit was cute that she wanted to head straight to the bedroom and shut the door so my dog wouldn’t have to watch us fool around.
I nearly said yes when she asked if she could have my dog while she was in the middle of fellating me.
When I was about to pull her top off, and she stopped me to ask if she could give Agnes some of her leftover chicken, I just about dropped to one knee and begged her to marry me. Actually, that’s not accurate—I was frustrated because I wanted to continue pulling her top off. Right now, I want to see her naked even more than I want her to love my dog. However, while I’ve been waiting for her to return, it’s occurred to me that it was sweet of her to care about Agnes and that it’s one of the qualities I’d certainly look for in a future second wife. I don’t know if she was feeling nervous and shy all of a sudden and needs my reassurance that she is hot and lovable, or if she’s totally nuts and genuinely obsessed with another human’s dog—but I have a feeling I’d enjoy spending the rest of my life finding out. Even if this is just me wanting to fill an emotional void on Christmas Eve, I know I will at the very least enjoy spending the rest of tonight trying to figure it out.
While simultaneously enjoying her naked body.
I’m sitting here at the edge of the bed, still hard and aching to keep going, but she’s been gone for longer than it would take to serve a few shreds of cold chicken to an animal. Now I’m a little concerned she might be crazy enough to drive off with my dog. It was a great blow job, but I’m still not willing to part with Agnes.
Just as I’m getting up to check on them, the bedroom door opens and Jillian walks in—all barefoot and sexy with her tousled dark hair, crop top, and a pair of thong panties that are about to get destroyed by a lascivious pediatric ophthalmologist.
Yeah. I mean horny.
Her eyes drop to the obscene bulge in my boxer briefs. I stand where I am to let her get a good look at what’s coming for her. I’ve already been in her mouth, so she knows what to expect, but when she takes in a deep, jagged breath, then parts those swollen lips and licks them, I can’t wait any longer. Two strides and I have her in my arms, my very stiff appendage pressed up against her. I can smell the lavender-scented soap I keep in the kitchen. She washed her hands before returning to me, and I like that. She’s naughtyandnice.
“No more interruptions,” I growl as I tear my lips from hers.
“’Kay,” she whispers.
In case she is self-conscious, I turn her around, back to me—not rough, but purposeful.
The eyes may be the windows to the soul, but it’s a lot easier to talk dirty when you aren’t looking directly into them.
Especially when said woman just might be better at dirty-talking than you are.
But Doctor Conrad is about to get really good at it.
I’m not wearing the special holiday boxer briefs I had bought for myself—well, for my ex-wife—a few years ago. The ones that have a graphic of a gift box printed over the pouch. But I am one hundred percent ready to deliver the words that are printed on those boxer briefs to Jillian Perry right now, with absolutely no irony: “Santa’s got a package for you.” I can’t tell if she’s smiling or suppressing a laugh since I can’t see her face, but I press that package up against her backside and ask, “You want it?”
“Yeah. I want it.”
“Good. Because you’re gonna get it.”
“Good. Give it to me.”
“Lift your arms up for me.”
She lifts her arms for me like a good girl as I pull her top off over her head.
“You call this fully dressed?”
“Well, not anymore.”
Letting that tiny little top drop to the floor, I take hold of her soft breasts, one in each hand, caressing them, squeezing them. She arches her back, pressing her tits into my hands, and rubs her ass against my erection. I let out a groan. “You want to tell me why you said you were wearing boy shorts earlier and now you’re wearing a thong?”
She tilts her head to one side and pulls her hair over one shoulder so I can kiss her neck. I could devour this woman like a butterscotch pudding parfait, and she seems to want me to.
“Oh, I didn’t think you’d noticed,” she says, feigning innocence as she wiggles and clenches around my hard length.
I suck in a breath and tweak her nipples.Take that, little angel.
She draws in a sharp breath.
