Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Lucian: I knew you were a dog thief, I just didn’t know you’d betrayed me this way.
Olivia: What nonsense are you talking about?
Lucian: While I was working out, you took Sarah away.
Olivia: I did not do such thing.
Lucian: The tracker and my cameras don’t lie, Olivia.
Olivia: Your cameras don’t have the full story.
Are you aware Sarah was unattended when she left your house?
I should take over Sarah’s responsibilities.
You’re not a fit dog parent.
Lucian: I’m a great parent.
Olivia: Did you know she was outside unattended?
Lucian: She was in the backyard while I was in the work-out room.
You took advantage of my poor girl and took her away.
Olivia: She snuck up behind me and I couldn’t not bring her.
She even had her leash with her.
I do want to know how that happened.
Lucian: Her leash is in a box on the porch, along with a few balls.
But just because she’s innocently offering you her leash, that doesn’t mean you have free rein to take her wherever you want.
That’s called dognapping.
Olivia: It wasn’t dognapping.
It was a rescue mission.
Lucian: A rescue from what exactly?
Her lavish life of belly rubs and premium dog food?
Olivia: From potential abandonment, obviously.
You were too busy flexing in your home gym to notice she needed company.
Lucian: I wasn’t flexing.
I was lifting.
Olivia: Same difference.
Lucian: Not even close.
Olivia: Either way, Sarah clearly felt neglected.
She saw an opportunity for a better life and took it.
Lucian: You are not a better life, Olivia.
Olivia: Sarah seems to disagree.
I already promised her a juicy bone after I come back from work—unless I decide to take her with me to work.
Lucian: Sarah doesn’t have all the facts.
And you can’t take her to work.
Is it bring-Sarah-to-work day?
I don’t think so.
Olivia: It is when you own the practice.
And I’m sure you don’t know all the facts.
I’m a lot more qualified to take care of her than you are.
Lucian: Here are the facts.
Fact one: She’s my dog.
Fact two: You stole her.
Fact three: You can’t be trusted.
Olivia: Fact four: You left your door open, and your dog decided to visit the neighbor who actually loves her.
Lucian: That is slander.
Olivia: That is the truth.
Lucian: She wouldn’t betray me like this.
We have a bond.
Olivia: Your “bond” didn’t stop her from trotting happily alongside me with zero hesitation.
Lucian: She probably thought you were leading her to me.
Olivia: You keep telling yourself that, champ.
Lucian: Don’t patronize me.
Olivia: Would never dream of it.
Lucian: Where are you now?
Olivia: Wouldn’t you like to know?
Lucian: Olivia.
Olivia: Lucian.
Lucian: Are you holding my dog hostage again?
Olivia: Define “hostage.”
Lucian: Possession of something that isn’t legally yours.
Olivia: That’s an interesting definition.
Lucian: Olivia.
Olivia: Fine.
We’re at the coffee shop.
I’m getting her a doggie cookie.
Lucian: What coffee shop?
Olivia: Oh, look at the time.
Gotta go.
Lucian: You better not be feeding her whipped cream.
Olivia: She deserves treats.
Cookie and puppy-latte it is.
Lucian: You do realize I’m coming to get her, right?
Olivia: Would you dare to come and get her?
Lucian: . . .
Lucian: Are you flirting with me, Doc?
Olivia: In your dreams, Crawford.
Lucian: In my dreams we do a lot more than flirting.
You want to know what we do in my dreams?
Olivia: Not particularly.
Lucian: That’s a shame.
Because in my dreams, you’re a lot less stubborn.
Olivia: And here I thought you liked me just the way I am.
Lucian: Oh, I do. I like you exactly like this—flustered, defensive, pretending you don’t hang onto my every word.
Olivia: You’re delusional, and let’s be honest, you don’t know me at all.
Lucian: And you’re avoiding my question.
Want to know what we do in my dreams?
Olivia: This feels like a trap.
Lucian: It is. But you’re already inside, so might as well play along.
Olivia: Fine. Entertain me, Crawford.
Lucian: Oh, sweetheart.
I’d rather do a lot more than entertain you.
Olivia: I immediately regret this.
Lucian: Too late. Now you have to live with the knowledge that in my dreams, you’re mine.
Olivia: Yours?
Lucian: Completely.
Lucian: You think you’re so in control, but when I have you pinned beneath me, your breath coming fast, your body arching into mine, you don’t fight it.
Lucian: You beg.
Olivia: I do not beg.
Lucian: Not yet. But in my dreams?
You do. With my mouth between your thighs, my fingers inside you, stretching you open, you don’t just beg—you whimper, you gasp, you say my name like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
Olivia: You have a vivid imagination.
Lucian: Oh, sweetheart.
This isn’t imagination.
You and I . . . we’re inevitable.
Olivia: Big words for a man currently texting me alone in his house with nothing but his hand for company.
Lucian: You think I’m jerking off to this?
Olivia: I think you probably can’t help yourself.
Lucian: Maybe. Or maybe I’m saving it for when you’re here when I can press you against my front door and make you feel exactly how hard you get me just by running your mouth.
Lucian: Maybe I want your hands on me instead.
Maybe I want to see what that smart mouth of yours can do besides drive me wild.
Olivia: You assume a lot.
Lucian: I assume correctly.
Lucian: Tell me, Doc.
Are you flushed right now?
Olivia: No.
Lucian: Liar.
Olivia: You’re impossible.
Lucian: You protest a lot, but you keep texting me back.
Why is that?
Olivia: Morbid curiosity.
Lucian: Curiosity about what?
How long I can keep you on edge?
How many ways I can make you come undone?
Lucian: Or are you wondering when I’ll be letting you have my cock after you show me that you’re a good girl.
Olivia: Are you always this arrogant?
Lucian: Only when I’m right.
Lucian: And I am right, aren’t I?
You’re thinking about it now.
My hands on you. My mouth on you.
My voice in your ear telling you exactly what I want to do to you.
Olivia: I think you need to take a cold shower.
Lucian: And I think you need to admit that if I were there right now, you would be begging me.
Lucian: You’d let me back you up against the counter, tilt your head back, let me slide my hands under that cute little shirt you’re probably wearing.
Olivia: You’re wrong.
Lucian: And yet, you’re still playing along.
Wonder why that is?
Olivia: I’m trying to figure out if you’re certifiable and if I should have you committed, or just delusional.
Lucian: Nah, you love this.
You love how I make you feel.
Lucian: I bet you’re pressing your thighs together right now, aren’t you?
Trying to ignore how hot this is making you.
Olivia: I’m deleting this conversation.
Lucian: No, you’re not.
You’ll read it again.
Maybe later, in bed, when you think I won’t know.
Lucian: You’ll think about what it would feel like if I were there, whispering these words against your skin, my fingers tracing down, lower, lower?—
Olivia: We’re heading back home.
I’ll drop Sarah at home before I head to work.
And make sure you keep a closer eye on her.
Lucian: You’re no fun, Doc.
Olivia: Oh, I can be fun, just not with anyone.